I was under the weather when I woke up yesterday; I hand’t been able to hold down any food or water the night before.  As a result of the gastric bypass I had two decades ago, plus subsequent surgeries since, I occasionally can develop these issues if a small piece of food gets trapped in

Yesterday could have been a monumental disaster for me and my silent pleas for normalcy.  My precious quaran-tine Barbara Ferrer had set it as a drop-dead date for reinstituting mandatory indoor masking, which based upon the way she now chooses to appear on zoom calls/press conferences she now seems to be a paid spokesperson for. 

All damn weekend, the news networks and my numerous digital news feeds have been pinging like a freshly shot bullet with the updates on President Biden’s bout with COVID-19.  The press conferences, the barrage of woke reporters questioning whether he should have been masked when he was last out in public, meticulously scrutizining the CDC

Oh, my darling quaran-tine Barbara Ferrer.  You sure picked the wrong day to have yet another press conference drumrolling what YOU now see is the inevitable return to indoor mask mandates in Los Angeles County, which you currently serve as an overpaid, underqualfiied regurgitator of goosed-up statistics relating to percentages of new reported cases of

Two men very close to me died on this day.  I’ve written a lot about my dad, who finally let go in 2014 nearly a month after he spoke his last words on Earth.  I still feel his loss daily, especially when the Dodgers are winning (sure enough, they’ve won seven in a row this

I’ve been in a more than somber and dour mood of late, what with all of the strife and tragedy of recent days.  Not today.  Today we’re celebrating the birthday of my other niece.  The one with the fur. Stella Allen is eight today, which depending upon which body type you believe she has translates to between

I sometimes look with deep envy at so many of my peers and relatives who are celebrating decades of wedded bliss with partners who have chosen to share ach others’ life journies and DNA with to create a true sense of family, community and support.  Through my daily ritual of social media hope, and given

An interesting commentary on MediaPost yesterday caught my eye, regarding the precarious state of senior spending power.  To be sure, it’s a worthwhile read.  It reinforces some realities about the evolving state of what and how seniors (those over 65) are coping with the economic pressuees of recent inflation trends and its impact on their

I don’t have children, and at this point in life I highly doubt I ever will.  I’m not exactly in the most stable stage of my life, and selfishly I had always hoped that if I had a had a child I would hope to live long enough to see them grow up, prosper and

Let’s get one thing established:  I’m not gay.  In fact, I was raised at a time and in a culture that ridiculed and demonized it.  The only other kid in my neighborhood who required a poiice escort to keep bullies away from him was a shy, quiet waif of a boy who was open about his sexuality