Arnold Zwicky's Blog

A busy two days, with an avalanche of fresh things to post about, but all of it overshadowed by the hot news that I have found a place to live in. For complex reasons, it’s not technically an assisted living facility, but an independent living facility (think: retirement community); and for even more complex reasons, it’s a 2-bedroom (and 2-bath) unit for the same price as a 1-bedroom (so that fitting the crucial books I need into the place is now trivially easy, and I can also swing the finances, which would have been daunting). And it’s in a neighborhood just south of Stanford (and the Palo Alto Medical Foundation, where all my doctors are), one I’m familiar with. Gigantic piles of financial and business transactions for my daughter Elizabeth to negotiate now. But I’m all a-quiver.

As with the alf in San Carlos I was looking at before, no other resident is carrying on a professional life (while I have a full-time occupation as a writer and researcher), and no other resident is openly gay.

On the latter, I have a lifetime of living in otherwise comfortable situations where I’m the only one, so I know I can manage it. The residents in this place are mostly retired professionals of various sorts and shouldn’t be problematic.

But in case any of my same-sex-inclined readers are considering retiring to a place in this area: write me for information about The Avant (on El Camino Way, zipcode 94306). Then, the fantasy:

just walk in, sing You can get anything you want, at Alice’s restaurant … And walk out.‎

You know, if one person, just one person does it they may think he’s really sick, and they won’t take him. And if two people, two people do it — in harmony — they may think they’re both faggots and they won’t take either of ’em. And three people do it — three, can you imagine? — three people walking in, singing a bar of Alice’s Restaurant and walking out? — they may think it’s an organization. And can you — can you imagine fifty people a day — I said fifty people a day! — walkin’ in, singin’ a bar of Alice’s Restaurant and walking out. And friends, they may think it’s a movement! And that’s what it is …

(A very long time ago, Jacques and I ended a day of unbroken pleasure together in D.C. by happening to catch Arlo Guthrie perform at GWU, so we finished that magic day just indescribably happy, having gotten everything we wanted at Alice’s Restaurant.)

This entry was posted on June 12, 2026 at 5:49 pm and is filed under Gender and sexuality, My life. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.