Archive for the ‘Events and occasions’ Category

RESIST

July 7, 2025

The message from my fellow QUESTer — another Queer University Employee At Stanford — Ryan Tamares, on a postcard mailed to me on 6/19, in the middle of Pride Month:

Happy Pride !
Pride always ! !
— RESIST —

The holiday moment has passed, but now we’re in a world where we have to actively resist, on a daily basis, against the brownshirts and blackshirts serving our overlords. And join with the drag queens and thrown-away club kids who, in one of our foundation tales, fought back against the cops who came to ruin their lives, and ours.

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The city treasurer

June 29, 2025

One little note from today’s San Francisco Pride Parade, where all manner of things passed by, including a great many politicians — most of them just showing their support for some slice of their voting public, though (since this is San Francisco and the occasion is one of queer celebration) some of them will be actual LGBT+-folk.

Which brings me to the long-time city treasurer of San Francisco, José Cisneros. Now, the city treasurer serves as the city’s banker and chief investment officer, and manages all tax and revenue collection for San Francisco. It’s hard to imagine a less frivolous, more earnest or more weightily responsible position. But, since this is San Francisco, it should elicit no surprise that the city treasurer is not only Latino (as you will gather from his name; but then the senior senator from California, Alex Padilla, is Latino) but also gay.

But he holds a weightily responsible, banker’s position. And has the requisite education and business background to qualify for it. And, in fact he absolutely looks the part of the city treasurer of a major US city; he could have been supplied from central casting:


His official portrait, which cries out: rock-solid dependable, and approachable too; of course we will trust him to handle our civic monies

This pleases me. We are everywhere, in all walks of life, presenting ourselves in any number of ways. And actively working for the good of the community, as JC does.

My days of marching in pride parades are long past; now I watch them on tv. But it’s definitely a day for standing up and standing out, so I wore my black GAY AS FUCK tank top. Happy Pride.

 

Work

June 29, 2025

6/29, penultimate June, and 🏳️‍🌈 🏳️‍⚧️ the day of the 2025 San Francisco Pride Parade (the 55th, theme: Queer Joy is Resistance), which I’ll be watching in another window while I’m working on posting, with breaks to assemble more of the thousands of objects I need to dispose of to move to assisted living months down the line; endless puzzlements, some of which I’ll soon be posting about. A move that serves as segue to the topic of work, thanks to this 6/26 note on Facebook from Heidi Harley, with my response:

— HH: the move will be a relief and potentially a joy, depending on the other residents and the nature of the place …

— AZ > HH: I’m actually doing just fine at home, with all sorts of workarounds, plus a helper / caregiver a couple times a week. But everyone’s worried about what will happen if I need intensive medical care. I’m determined to continue my writing, which I view as a profession and a calling (as you know).

An additional note: writing is real work — takes intense concentration, long stretches of rewriting and editing to make it better, and so on — but like many kinds of real work, it can be deeply satisfying, a source of genuine pleasure.

And from that I’m taken to the Reading (PA) Eagle newspaper (afternoon and Sunday), where I started my first real job (initially as a copyboy), beginning in June 1958, when I was 17; I was soon shifted to the editorial staff as a floater (I’ll explain), and worked full-time for three summers (and part-time during university breaks) while I went to Princeton. It was a dream job, combining experience with all kinds of writing; learning to work on one thing after another, all relentlessly on deadline; working with a huge cast of characters, of many different natures; and gaining detailed knowledge of the way the world works — gritty stuff, scary stuff, fascinating stuff, and uplifting stuff, all gemischt.

Some recollections of my Eagle days will then lead to Studs Terkel (who died in 2008) and to Calvin Trillin (who’s still alive, at age 89).

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A rose for Sharon

June 21, 2025

An occasional poem (in free verse) for my friend Sharon on her recent birthday, wrapped up in the calendar, the female body, and plants and their sexual symbolisms, with photos. The poem first, then remarks on its form, then a bit of background information.

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Saturday, Sunday, and Monday

June 15, 2025

Three days heavy in events and occasions, including my beginning to work through the amazing pile of stuff I’ve accumulated here in Palo Alto, which has to be whittled down to what I can fit into my apartment in an assisted living facility; that’s a long way away, but the task is daunting and will take months (as it did when I moved out of the house in Columbus), and you will be hearing every so often about my puzzlements.

But now Saturday (yesterday), Sunday (today), and Monday (tomorrow). Pride Month continues throughout and that’s a Big Thing in my world. It’s been a long, hard ride, and now we’re facing another round of backlash and reversals, so this is a time for conspicuously joining together, all of us — and, at the same time, being as fabulous as we can.

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Today’s catch-22

June 3, 2025

Getting prescriptions (re)filled through CVS Caremark turns out to be a constant unpleasant adventure. My password keeps needing to be changed, for no reason I can see, and what happens when I get to the “manage your prescriptions” page is always something different from all previous log-ins. Sometimes I can find no way to get the list of my (alas, very many) prescriptions, or get the list from two years ago, or some list that probably belongs to someone else, so I just abandon the task and try again the next day.  Twice I’ve been told that that resource is not available.

Today my problem was a prescription for prednisone 5 mg tablets, which I put in weeks ago, got a message saying it had been processed, and then no news whatsoever. So, after elaborately proving who I was and then changing my password, I found the “track your orders” resource (sometimes it just vanishes and I’m shit out of luck, but it was there today. And told me that instead of being mailed to me (as I had instructed), the rx was sent to my local CVS, held for two weeks without being picked up, and returned to the warehouse. All without any notification to me.

Oh, you say, that should be no problem, just put in a new order. The “submit an order” option was in fact available. Joy.

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Adventures in AZ-land

June 2, 2025

That’s the land of maze and Shiraz and similar AZ things, those whose names have the letter-sequence AZ in them; Aslan is something entirely different (see below). I was taken to AZ-land yesterday on Facebook by Aric Olnes (who is, among other things, a floral artist), in one of a series of alphabetic flower photos from Casa Thomas / Olnes in Pioneer (Amador County) CA — where Aric and his husband Mike Thomas live these days — which come with lengthy alliterative captions, in this case for the letter A:


(#1) The photo, of a Pioneer Azalea; the caption:

Astonishingly attractive Azaleas arrest acrimonious assumptions ascending aloft angelic amiability

(Look, Aric wasn’t aiming for elegance or poetic facility, just alliteration playfully carried to ridiculous lengths; otherwise, all it has to do is make some sense)

And my response, also on Facebook, taking things in a direction Aric probably didn’t anticipate:

— azaleas are from AZ-land, like azure, azimuths, and azithromycin, in a region that embraces Azerbaijan, the Azores, and Azusa [but not Anaheim or Cucamonga] — and is next to the Plaza Hotel, the Amazon River, and Jason Mraz‘s recording studio (among many many other things)

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Withering, take 2

June 1, 2025

🐇 🐇 🐇 rabbit rabbit rabbit — the trois lapins inaugurating the month of June, and in the northern temperate zone, devastating young gardens; meanwhile, summer rushes in, as chronicled in a modest way in my posting yesterday, “Withering away, or not” (the cymbidium orchids are rapidly withering away, with only 5 flower stalks still standing at the end of yesterday’s garden work; in contrast, I was thriving)

This morning’s update (I was up at 3:40 and labored steadily on house and garden from 4 to 9, when I started work on this posting): only 2 flower stalks remain (the withered flowers and the long thick stalks have been cut into compostable bits); while I continue to thrive, despite seasonal allergies (one more day of stunningly good morning vitals — blood pressure and pulse rate). Meanwhile, in a kind of compensatory bloom, the big-leaved hydrangea (Hydrangea macrophylla) has three flower heads opening up into bright pinkish-red panicles, the tallest (and reddest) on a stem that now looms over 4 ft from the ground (since the plant’s in a big pot, that flower-ball is now right at my eye level).

And then I got the sweetest compliment from Robert Coren this morning, in a comment on yesterday’s posting that took off from the verb wither in the posting. To which I had a complex response.

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Withering away, or not

May 31, 2025

🐅 🐅 🐅  three tigers for ultimate May, and locally (here in the middle of the San Francisco peninsula) the tigers are blazingly summer-hot — in the 80s F yesterday, which made tending to my garden even in the early morning a challenge; the blooms of my cymbidium orchids (which thrive in our cool rainy winters) are withering away faster than flies dropping in a mist of Raid

Two flower stalks went down yesterday morning, and by 2 pm two more needed removal (although mad dogs and Californians will go out in the midday sun, this exotic Swiss transport from the green farmlands of Pennsylvania Dutch country will not), a task that awaits me as soon as the sun comes up — it’s only 4:30 am as I write this — by which time more will probably have succumbed, and they might all have gone down by the time the rabbits of June appear tomorrow. That would not be unusual. The plants will use the summer sun (and my daily waterings) to fortify their root systems, develop new pseudobulbs, and (eventually) send up fresh shoots as the rainy season begins, in December.

Meanwhile, the grasses and other plants on the hillsides will wither from lack of rain. The hillsides will turn golden brown for the hot dry summer, only to revive in fresh bright green when the rains come again; the world is renewed in green for Christmas and New Year’s Day, a transformation that never fails to delight me.

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The last days of spring

May 13, 2025

Locally, the signs that spring is coming to an end here in Palo Alto CA accumulate around this time; I suggest that Fred Astaire’s (1899) birthday, on 5/10, would be an appropriate occasion for looking forward to the arrival of summer. The plants in my immediate environment have sent the signals:

— the magenta Pelargonium peltatum (“ivy-leaved geranium”) plants by the entrance to my condo are suddenly covered with blossoms

— the cat’s-claw creeper vine / cat’s claw trumpet vine, Dolichandra unguis-cati, on the arbor over the entryway went from a few bright yellow flowers to a solid bank of yellow overnight (which will drop to the ground in a few days, to be replaced, eventually, by long seedpods)

— the calla lilies on the street, a few doors north of me, have finished blooming and are now dying back, to go into dormancy until next spring

— on my patio, the last cymbidium orchids are still blooming, for maybe a few more weeks, when their blossoms, too, will drop off in the summer heat and the plants will go into dormancy

— and also out there in the container garden, the first big-leaved hydrangea (Hydrangea macrophylla) flower cluster is about to open into bright pink, in two or three days (that cluster, on a great big plant in a great big pot, now stands at my eye level)

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