Robert StGenis Voice empowered

The weekend after Tony had left our place he sent me a text message saying he needed to come by in the next "day or two" to pick up some "important document" he needed for something. I wasn't really sure what he did or did not have at our place. I know that he had very limited possessions in general. He seems to have had things stolen constantly, and people whom he stays with ultimately lock him out and keep his property. I have read and heard of many stories of problems with theft for those on the streets. While I could see some 'one' being vindictive enough to hold or discard his property I can't imagine why people would want his things. Canned tuna? Ragged jeans and tee shirts? Is there some gratification in throwing away another's belongings that I don't appreciate? He was at the library in Downtown Los Angeles (DTLA) and he would only have access to the internet until 1 pm. He would then have "spotty" access and let me know ...

He was soundly asleep on our couch. My husband, Mac, initially had all the lights possible off, but I eventually had to cook. We live in a loft. There isn't much segmenting. My cooking made noises and smells certainly. Mac and I ultimately had a rather intense, not argumentative, but important to us both, conversation while I finished cooking. Mac showered shortly after and went out to meet some friends. Mac closed the door slowly, creating noise still the same. Our one cat, Garnet, who has taken a liking to Tony since his arrival, jumped on and off him at least a half dozen times while he slept ever so desperately. He didn't awaken from the sofa for some 14 hours. I only met Tony at a club a couple Saturdays ago because we honestly had chatted on an online site and both were in Hollywood at the same time so I told him to come by. It is one of these sites I seem to spend a deal of time on, accomplishing nothing, but do entertain myself perusing when I am sick of looking at I...

In the beginning of 2019, we had a series of "blackface" incidents that came under the spotlight in the United States. One recent, but the other two, of US politicians no less, are history coming to surface. Most bothersome to me, though, was that these were people of my generation. Governor Ralph Northam increased the insult with fumbling through his apology, initially saying the photo does not represent who he is now. That, along with a track record he can point to, one might take as genuine. A day later, he denied the initial photo but said he wore blackface as a part of a costume as Michael Jackson and was about to demonstrate his moon-walking skills before his wife stopped him, suggesting it was inappropriate. Some defenders suggested that it was the sentiment of the time. It was the 1980s. That is my time as well. That is the time of Michael Jackson and the Cosby Show (we will just focus on all the positives of the show). I grew up watching The Jeffersons, Good Times, a...

Just over a week ago, on September 9, my therapist and I were talking about this blog and about memories. I alluded that many memories came into play during the Kavanaugh hearings during the summer of 2018. As I discuss in my earlier blog,  AIDS 1-Being a Junior , many of my premature "coming out" adventures occurred in Rehoboth Beach, Delaware where Christine Blasey Ford visits her family at their vacation home each year. Ford specifically said she was in a  Walgreens parking lot in Rehoboth discussing potentially testifying at one point and I have a visual in my head of that store and its location from many years ago, albeit I could be wrong, it's not a "hot spot" I just feel like I am certain I have been there. Rehoboth Beach, DE Boardwalk Kavanaugh also vacationed in Delaware and Ocean City, MD.  He was accused of misconduct in Ocean City, MD during Beach Week but it was never investigated, and brought to surface later by attorney Michael Avenatti. ...

Jana was our next door neighbor. She was one of no less than 3 children and I want to say the youngest of them in her home. Their family had worked their way up to our neighborhood. We were always pleasant, genuinely neighborly, helping one another out when needed with rides to pick up a car at the shop, lending items, etc., but did not have much in common. The previous owner Mom was a friend of my Mother's and I remember she had a cool Mercury Cougar. They spent time together. I think my Mom and Mrs."B" might have been on the same bowling team, but that was about as coincidental as their living next door. Mrs. "B" wore polyester (weren't they called "double knit"?) pantsuits from JCPenny. My Mother had never been to one. My Mother shopped at Saks Fifth Avenue and Bonwit Teller at the Somerset Mall.  I doubt she knew either store or where the mall was located. Mrs. "B" didn't care either; just as my Mother could have cared less about ...

I have always been convinced that the first 4 years of my life being on Lake Shore Drive in Chicago in a high-rise made me a birthright urbanite. My brother, 4 years younger, began life in a suburban home we moved to in Michigan, then on to another home in New Jersey, and has a disdain for cities. I live in Downtown Los Angeles, this ever-growing epicenter of roughly 2 square miles that was left as wasteland up to about 20 years ago. We are pioneers, arriving from the Westside about 12 years ago. I visit NYC, certainly Manhattan, more than my brother, who is 60 miles away in NJ, opposed to my being transcontinental.  The only times I hear of him in the city is for a Yankees game on a rare occasion and maybe a couple times for medical procedures. 3550 N. Lake Shore Drive #602, Chicago, Ill My first home My brother and I have little in common, but one thing has always been the enjoyment (I stop short of "profound love" as that goes to far stronger aficionados) of mus...

We moved to New Jersey for the beginning of my junior year of high school. I was transitioning from Cranbook , a private school with a exquisite 600 acre campus designed by  Eliel Saarinen that is largely the birthplace of mid-century modernism among other things, to Morristown High School , a large public high school with 3 mish-mosh institutional buildings put together. Morristown had a very diverse student body, as opposed to Cranbrook where at the time diversity was like a few spare sprinkles on a white frosted cupcake. There were no bells at Cranbrook. Now, I had buzzers, guards, and an Attendance Czar who sent computer generated letters to your parents about your "illegal absence" if you missed a class. We had cubby holes at Cranbrook (which really needed to be changed as I had things stolen from me) but now I had a locker with random locker inspections, sometimes with the Morristown PD. ESL was something I had never heard of before, and teen pregnancy was something ...