Local voices chime in on a variety of topics.
Killer Heels exhibitions, Moulin Rouge shows, and now, come Friday night, a couple really fantastic national performers named Will Porter and Carmen Nickerson will take to the stage of the 185 seat music hall inside the museum.
I believe that our world will be that much greater when we are allowed to act how we authentically feel, based on our decisions about what is right for us in our current context. Conversations about the decoupling of sex and gender, and of gender and sexual orientation, are a big part of how we can move closer to that better world.
Whenever I put any substance into my body, it was always simply a Keith Escape Vehicle (KEV). Because I am who I am (and that’s all who I am), I can turn a lot of different things into KEVs – spending, sex, travel, work. For today, for this minute at least, I’m trying to relax into being Keith instead of grabbing the keys and jumping into a KEV.
I don’t relate this to embarrass Larissa or anyone else who’s struggling to find a way to struggle to quit drinking. I danced that same dance for years, making a decision to quit drinking and believing that decision was the same as accomplishing the goal.
While we are all working on our individual tax returns, there are some important developments brewing on the taxation front with respect to public utilities. They all come down to this ineluctable reality: Utilities don’t pay taxes, ratepayers do.
When I was growing up, after my father lost his job, our family entered a world of poverty. Behind closed doors, hushed conversations about “how we’re going to pay the bills,” and “what are we going to do about the car?” and “did you hear that Ed’s getting evicted?” happened frequently. My brother and I would be sitting on the couch, where I pretended to watch cartoons, but instead strained my ears to try to know what was going to happen to us.
When I got the thumbs-up to launch this column, my heart nearly exploded from my chest. There was no question as to which movie would be the first I would review, the movie that rightfully began my love affair with classic film, ‘Singin’ in the Rain.’
One thing is becoming clearer, though: Recovery is possible, to a person and for any community, if we commit to the track we’re on.
Knowing I’m going to anger three-quarters of the Dylan fans who read this, these songs make up the heart of the canon. They are the 12 Greatest Bob Dylan songs, properly sequenced for an album, a list for which I will brook no argument.
This was the tragedy, the kind of horror that usually leads to interviews with mothers and sisters of the victims, candlelit vigils and hand-wringing exclamations. Like a well-choreographed kabuki performance, the victims are remembered as saints, the families are cherished for the stiff upper lips and the incident slowly moves into the past like a sailboat disappearing into the fog.