#me sees a sro

[whereisthedamndaddymanual]

Me watching evil dead 2

Ash: (dubbed) Work shed

[genderkoolaid]

On April 27, 2023, an armed security guard shot and killed a Black trans man named Banko Brown outside of a San Francisco Walgreens. Brown’s killing sparked outrage. But San Francisco District Attorney Brooke Jenkins decided not to charge the security guard who shot him, saying that he acted in self-defense. And just last Friday, Attorney General Rob Bonta’s office announced that it supported that decision.  This announcement has crushed Banko Brown’s loved ones, including those who say that his killing was an example of the conditions that unhoused transgender people face in San Francisco. KQED reporter Joe Fitzgerald Rodriguez sits down with Brown’s chosen family, to discuss life as a homeless queer person in San Francisco, and Banko’s life before his death. [...]

Kazani Kalani Finao: [...] We just had amazing, great conversations. Just always sparring with each other, bouncing back with, like, fun ideas. He uses a bright, outgoing apartment. Conversation was always immaculate, always amazing. Of he was a visionary. The struggle not only brought us together, but like I was able to, like, really build a relation with him based on, like, his gifts. He was very creative, his swag, his drip, like he was a trendsetter to me. He’s definitely inspirational to me to like, you know, him, me younger to me, like I always share with him. Like, bro, you give me so much confidence, you give me so much courage for me to be me. He didn’t even know it. But again, he was just natural at that. Whatever I remember of him is his drips, sauce, smile, hugs, goofiness. [...]

Xavier Davenport: Banko never had a space of his own. Banko had been in and out of shelter, in and out of people’s homes, sometimes even some people’s own [SROs]. So let’s really break down what that really looks like when you are living in a one room space with another individual. You do not have privacy. Nine times out of ten, being a transmasculine identif[ied] person, especially being black, you have to render some type of services to stay there, whether it be sexual, whether it be drugs. So when we talk about black men and being fetishized, Banko dealt with a lot of that. And so those people would be the people to take him in. [...]

Joe Fitzgerald Rodriguez: And can we talk a little bit about Banko in terms of the safety? You know, obviously Banko went through the least safe thing you could imagine with the most terrible outcome you can imagine. What was Banko experiencing in terms of safety during this whole process? Xavier Davenport: Banko was actually experiencing a lot of issues with violence happening in some of the places that he was trying to stay at. Nobody’s perfect, you know, especially when we’re talking about community, right? People have all kinds of issues and trauma that they are that they’re trying to live through as well. I definitely know that there were a few times where, you know, he was upset from violent experiences that had taken place. And what we all do, right, we get upset, we want to do something about it. So, you know, really trying to calm him down to, like, see a different side of it, for him to just move through the trauma that he was experiencing. Joe Fitzgerald Rodriguez: Yeah. And I don’t know how much you all followed kind of the public discussion of what happened to Banko afterwards. A lot of what I heard was a kind of a questioning of like, what did [Banko]’s trans identity or black trans identity have to do with the shooting, especially when the security guard themselves was was black. I wonder if you could talk a bit about for people who don’t understand what does [Banko]’s black trans identity have to do with what brought him there that day and what happened? [...] Xavier Davenport: [...] What what that all has to do with is when you are a young, black, transmasculine identified person, people see that he walks in, he’s dark skinned, he has a hat on a t shirt, he has a little bit of a, like a goatee or, you know, something growing in. And as another black man or being another man, there is a fight for power for who is the man. [F]or Banko, you know, the thought process is, you look like a little boy or you’re trying to pretend to be a little boy. Because let’s be clear, Banko had not had, you know, top surgery. He had not been going through that part of of medical transitioning. So you have a masculine person with visible breast coming at you. You are going to now struggle for your manhood. I’m going to show you who’s boss is something that for people that are even lesbians who are more masculine looking, [t]here is a struggle between men and any form of masculinity that they can see to them isn’t necessarily real. Joe Fitzgerald Rodriguez: So it’s a it’s like a challenge. Xavier Davenport: It is a challenge. It very much is a challenge. I know this first experience. I have dealt with this my entire life. JuJu Pikes-Prince: And if I can just highlight that it’s true. And these are cases that’s not getting covered [...] of Black Trans Men getting killed. [...]

Xavier Davenport: [...] I would say what needs to change is the systems in how they construct homelessness. There needs to be shelters specific for transmasculine folks. There needs to be shelters for trans people, period. But trans men need their own space. There needs to be more black, trans masculine leaders. There’s nobody else that can speak about black transness except for black trans people. Joe Fitzgerald Rodriguez: And how about the joy? What is your joy look like right now? Xavier Davenport: My joy looks like, you know, the rest of the work that I do. The Bay Area Transmasculine calendar is doing a second premiere of a calendar that we started last year with a group of Transmasculine folks to continue to ensure that Transmasculine folks are seen and can receive joy in seeing and having representation of themselves in all bodies, in all forms of trans masculine bodies, and in all forms of trans masculine and different cultures and ethnicities. Joe Fitzgerald Rodriguez: That’s beautiful. JuJu Pikes-Prince: [F]iguring out the funding, figuring out where money can go to. I definitely believe that there should be more programs for black trans men, even from our community. My [femme queens, my dolls]. We need to serve our [kings], our [trans kings.] [Sorry], I’m getting emotional. And it’s because I’m thinking about the joy part. [L]iving and finding purpose. Picking up someone else’s purpose when they couldn’t find their purpose. And knowing that I’m here and I can also at least set some type of story for someone [...] and hopefully help another next person, next generation to continue to do this advocacy work.

[beardedmrbean]

When former Maplewood High School teacher Mark Hayes walked into work one December morning in 2021, the last thing the 24-year Metro Nashville Public Schools veteran expected was to be assaulted by one of his students.

But that’s what happened in the hallway after class when an 18-year-old student shoved him hard, knocking him down onto the concrete floor.

“I didn’t see it coming, so I didn’t even brace for it or anything. It knocked me off my feet on my back on the floor in the hallway on the concrete,” Hayes told The Tennessean in an interview. "In 24 years I never had an incident close to resembling this."

Hayes notified school administrators, and filed assault charges against the student with the school’s SRO the day of the incident. The student was later found guilty in court.

But at the time, after a three-day suspension – which involved only one missed day from his classroom due to class scheduling – school administrators expected Hayes to return to the same classroom and continue teaching the student who assaulted him – while his criminal charges remained pending until the following June.

Hayes said the lack of consequences for the student, and lack of support from school and district leadership eventually drove him to resign.

"I just cleaned out my desk, my filing cabinet, my room, packed it up, and left. That was my last day at school — 24 years in the same building," Hayes said. "It was either do what I did and walk away or continue to teach a person that assaulted me and be face-to-face with them when there was pending legal action."

"If the same thing happened to me not in a school, but out in public, ... the judge would have some form of a restraining order against that person, at least until it was adjudicated," he said. "In my situation, I felt like why should that be any different because you're inside a school building?"

A growing problem

Hayes is not the only teacher in Middle Tennessee that has faced violence from students in the workplace. Last year, Antioch High School teacher Caleb Bates was pepper sprayed by a student after asking the student to put away their phone, WSMV first reported. Bates now teaches in a different Tennessee county. Former Wilson County teacher Lauren Gray resigned last year during a school board meeting, citing unruly student behavior – and lack of support from administrators.

“We’ve had students cause thousands of dollars in damage, steal and damage teachers' property, sexually harass teachers, threaten teachers and their fellow students in the form of a hit list,” Gray said last June.

Multiple teachers reached by The Tennessean declined to discuss their experiences with student assaults on the record out of fear of retaliation from MNPS leadership.

MNPS' disciplinary policy requires an up to five-day suspension for middle and high school students for offenses like assault, fighting, and racial, religious and sexual harassment, with expulsion as a measure of last resort. In parallel with state law, the district's zero-tolerance policy only requires a one-year suspension for aggravated assault ― when a student uses a deadly weapon.

"There was no accountability in the school system whatever," Hayes said. "My career was turned upside down because of the way this happened."

MNPS spokesperson Sean Braisted told The Tennessean in an email that the district has invested in social-emotional learning supports "to help students experiencing emotional dysregulation," and has added "restorative practices assistants" at the middle and high school level.

"Each situation involving a disciplinary referral must be reviewed and investigated by school administrators to determine the appropriate course of action as outlined in the disciplinary policies of the district, with due process being applied to disciplinary investigations and consequences," Braisted told The Tennessean. "We encourage any staff member who feels a situation was not addressed appropriately within the code of conduct guidelines by school administrators to reach out to their school’s Executive Director (Principal supervisor) for further review."

According to data from the Tennessee Department of Education, there were 1,918 assaults of teachers and staff reported by schools across Tennessee during the 2022-23 school year ― the highest number in the last five years and up nearly 700 from the 2021-22 school year.

At MNPS, there were 325 incidents of assault on a teacher or staff member across the district during the 2023-24 school year, according to Braisted, including 11 incidents at Hillsboro High School and 15 at Antioch High School. The majority of the incidents occurred in elementary schools.

There were fewer than 10 incidents of aggravated assault of a teacher, school staff, or SRO at MNPS schools during the 2023-24 school year, according to Braisted, including incidents at Cane Ridge High School, East Nashville High School and Glencliff High School.

MNPS declined to release incident reports documenting assaults on teachers requested by The Tennessean in a public records request, citing federal student privacy laws.

While recent conversations about school safety has largely focused on external threats, violence against teachers from within school buildings has become a nationwide trend.

A recent survey by the American Psychological Association found that about 56% of teacher respondents had experienced some form of physical violence from a student, like being bitten, scratched, or hit, or having an object like a pencil or scissors used as a weapon toward them at work. The study found increased instances of physical violence by students against teachers since the end of coronavirus pandemic restrictions.

“We're in an occupation where every day is different," Hayes said. "When things happen, you have to be supported. That is, that is the number one deal. There has to be support.”

New state law requires 1-year suspension

This year, Gov. Bill Lee signed a new law requiring a one-year suspension for students who assault teachers at school. Students can still take classes online or in an alternative learning environment, but they will not be allowed to return to school property for classes, extracurricular activities, sports events, or graduation.

The bill was sponsored by Rep. Kevin Raper, R-Cleveland, and Sen. Dawn White, R-Murfreesboro, who are both former teachers.

“I have heard stories for many, many years about employees of school systems being assaulted, especially teachers and administrators,” Raper told The Tennessean in an interview. “And because of that, they are not wanting to return to school. They're scared. They're intimidated. They fear for their life and their family's lives.”

Under the new law, which took effect last month, each school district and charter school is required to advise the employee of their rights as a result of the assault, and requires a one-year suspension for the student. Exceptions are included for special education students, and further exceptions to the suspension requirement may be made by the director of schools. Braisted said while the law allows superintendents to modify the expulsion requirement on a case-by-case basis, there would not be a blanket policy to prevent a one-year suspension at MNPS.

“As a former teacher, I know the challenges our educators face and the increasing rate of classroom violence against teachers is very concerning," White told The Tennessean.

The new law follows a measure passed last year which requires school districts to pay teachers their full salary and benefits if they are absent from work due to a personal injury caused by an assault at work.

“We have a teacher shortage,” Raper said. “And we are losing a number of these teachers because they just said 'I'm not going back to this situation, and I'll go work somewhere else.'”

[vexic929]

Blue Streak

Chapter 3

Warnings: electrocution

Chapter 1: link

Chapter 2: link

14 years later

Malcolm wheeled into Jitters, giving the kid who held the door open for him a 'thank you' and a friendly smile, even as she raced off a bit too early to meet her parents and the door slammed into one of his back wheels. Malcolm grimaced but continued on his way, waving to Iris as he caught her eye from behind the counter. Iris wiped her hands on her apron before half-jogging over with the coffee carafe and a mug, pouring him a cup as he opened his bag and pulled his laptop out.

"Okay, what's up, Mal?" Iris demanded, setting the carafe down and surveying him critically.

Malcolm poured creamer into his coffee, giving her a quizzical look as he stirred and sipped it. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Iris started, sitting across from him the moment her coworker signaled it was okay for her to take a short break. "Barr said you're not coming with us to the accelerator thingy tonight. What gives? You were so excited about it!"

Malcolm took another slow sip before sighing and leaning back in his chair. "It's nothing-"

"Mal." Iris interrupted, giving him a warning look.

"Look, I just...it's going to be a big crowd, if it's SRO we'll end up in the back so I won't even be able to see anything, and they'll probably want to check my wheelchair over for bombs or something. I'm just going to slow you and Barry down and as much as I'd love to see the particle accelerator launch and Dr. Wells in person it's not worth the hassle. I can watch it on TV and deal with none of that so it's fine." He insisted, avoiding her gaze.

Iris reached over to grasp his forearm gently, squeezing it. "Come on, you and Barry have been talking my ear off for weeks about it, you don't really want to miss it, do you?"

"It's fine." He repeated, forcing a smile as he met her eyes again. "Really, I'm sure there will be...other scientific advancements that alter the way we think about the universe as we know it. I can miss this one."

Iris shook her head, pursing her lips. "Malcolm Allen, don't you dare give up on something you've been looking forward to just because of a few possible roadblocks. You deserve to be there just as much as anyone else, now what's really going on with you?"

Malcolm's forced smile faltered and he looked away again, tracing the handle of his coffee cup with his fingertips. "...You should probably get back to work-"

Iris leaned forward, her voice gentle but firm. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's bothering you. I know you too well to believe that it's just about the crowd or security checks."

Malcolm sighed, his shoulders sagging. He knew he couldn't keep his feelings from Iris, even though he often tried. She had a way of seeing through his defenses, of understanding him like no one else could.

"It's just...I'm tired, Iris," he admitted softly, finally meeting her gaze again. "Everywhere I go, it's like people see the wheelchair before they see me. And even when they do see me, they treat me like I'm a child or made of glass or just an inconvenience or something. It's exhausting. I went on that date with Eric last night and he babied me all fucking night - ordered for me, spoke over me, even pushed my damn chair without asking. Then I had an interview this morning and they took one look at the chair and told me I wasn't a good fit. Didn't matter that they loved my résumé or that I ticked every box they asked for and then some. I don't know what the hell else I'm supposed to do, I bend over backwards and it's still not enough."

Iris listened quietly, her expression filled with sympathy as Malcolm poured out his frustrations. When he finished, she reached across the table again and took his hand, squeezing it tightly.

"I'm sorry, Mal. You're so much more than your wheelchair and I wish people could see that," she said softly, offering him a small smile.

Malcolm smiled back. "Thanks."

"Are you sure you don't wanna come tonight?" Iris asked and Malcolm sighed, sipping his coffee slowly.

"I'll think about it." He relented and Iris gave his hand one last squeeze before standing to go back to work.

He did think about it, he insisted defensively to both Barry and Iris as they left to go to the launch, and he certainly wasn't regretting not going, he'd insist to himself later as he watched the live news coverage while he tinkered in the back shed Joe and Barry had helped him set up as a workshop. He'd sat fairly enraptured all through Dr. Wells' speech nearly an hour ago much as he assumed Barry had done actually in the presence of the man. He wouldn't be jealous, he'd chosen not to go. He hoped Barry had enjoyed it, was still enjoying milling around S.T.A.R. Labs' lobby. Maybe he and Iris had found a quiet corner of the lab where he could explain what she needed to know for her article. Maybe he'd worked up the courage to finally tell her how he felt. He'd have to ask him later.

Malcolm sighed and shifted in his chair, reaching for the soldering iron to work on the circuit board. At the same time, the tiny, shitty, black-and-white TV set he'd been watching the coverage on shorted out. Malcolm groaned in frustration and slid the circuit board aside to instead grab the television and open it up. Maybe, if he was quick, he could fix it before the live coverage ended and still watch the tail end of it.

Several things happened suddenly in rapid succession. Lightning cracked just outside the shed, the power surged, and Malcolm felt a jolt course through him from the soldering iron and broken TV both, causing his muscles to contract painfully as he was thrown back, his chair tipping and causing him to hit the wooden floor hard. Despite the grounding, the electricity still seemed to dance through his veins, a searing agony that threatened to consume him whole before he lost consciousness altogether.

"Mal? Power's out, thought you could use some light-"

Joe's voice cut off, the flashlight he was holding clattering to the ground as he raced forward, fumbling for his cell phone and feeling for a pulse, ignoring the brief shock that hit his fingertips. Nothing. Oh god. He dialed 911 and set the phone down beside him, beginning chest compressions. He rattled off his address as clearly as he could when the operator picked up, voice shaking.

"This is Detective Joe West, I need an ambulance now. My son's been electrocuted."

[seriouslycromulent]

My rewatch of The John Larroquette Show (so far)

In my effort to keep my Larroquette obsession thriving, I've recently started a rewatch of The John Larroquette Show. Like Night Court (which I rewatched in 2022), I remember watching this show when it originally aired.

But unlike Night Court, my memory of most of the episodes is a bit fuzzy. I remember the main characters and their personalities just fine, but not so much what happens in terms of the storyline.

Regardless, I'm enjoying the rewatch, and I'm pleasantly surprised by how much the show holds up over time, how evergreen the topics are, and how strong the jokes are. Seriously. They are constantly telling jokes that I swear are as old as vaudeville, but they kill in terms of laughs from the audience and from me as well.

Example: In s2e8 "The Book of Rachel," Mayim Bialik guest stars as a young hippie-ish woman named Rachel who shows up in hopes of finding out if John Hemingway (JL's character) is her real dad. She's narrowed down the search to 3 men who knew her mom, who was living wild and free back in the '70s, around that time.

When John asks how her mother's doing, Rachel says, "She's doing pretty good. She's been clean for about 5 years now." John, a recovering alcoholic who's been sober for 1 year, says, "That's great! So no more drugs and booze, huh?" And Rachel says, "Oh no, there's still plenty of drugs and booze. She's just been bathing regularly for 5 years."

I'm not telling it very well in writing, but I swear to you, that joke is funny as hell, and Mayim and JL's delivery is perfection. Plus, it got a huge laugh from the audience, which speaks to its timeless nature.

Anyway, I just wanted to share a thought or two on the show so far. (I'm on episode 12 of Season 2, just in case anyone wants to know the context.)

Here are some random thoughts I've had so far:

Like Night Court, the show does a solid job of mixing comedy and drama. The first season is a bit more drama heavy because they dealt more with the recovery storyline, but I think it still worked and the whole concept is still pretty daring (i.e., revolving around the unglamorous lives of people who work in and around a bus station at night) even compared to today's sitcoms, which still tend to play it safe.

JL's hair in the first season is absurdly long. Or at least it gets to be absurdly long about halfway through the season. And it's not a good look. Not because he looks bad with long hair, but because it looks like it takes a lot of upkeep. And a man who is working 3rd shift at a bus station and lives in a halfway house/SRO building doesn't seem like he'd have a strict hair care regimen to make it appear perfectly tamed at all time. Seriously, at one point I had to ask out loud, "I wonder if they curl the ends with a curling iron or do they use rollers?"

This may be the first TV show I ever saw Chi McBride in. Despite seeing him on plenty of TV shows and films over the years, I never knew he had such a lovely singing voice. I'm glad they gave him a chance to share his singing talent. His version of "Danny Boy" in season 1 was very good.

The 2 corrupt police officers who blatantly flaunt their bias and awfulness are both funny and a great commentary on what was happening in America at the time (i.e., the Rodney King police beating, and the aftermath of the verdict was still very fresh in everyone's minds then). Sadly, it is an evergreen topic for the U.S., but I think it says a lot about the writers for TJLS that they attacked the subject so openly and didn't shy away of being critical of police or lampooning them. I don't think a modern American sitcom would approach the subject so brazenly and unapologetically today. JL has said in a number of interviews that the show was kind of ahead of its time. And I'm inclined to agree with him, at least in some areas.

It's so cool going back to watch old TV shows and catching actors who have now become bigger names in the business. I just watched an episode with Jane Lynch working as a mental health care professional. Of course, this was way before she found success on Glee and The 40-Year-Old Virgin.

Does JL manage to work in a reference to Samuel Beckett into everything he works on starting with this series? It's starting to function as his own career Easter egg at this point. I'm not complaining. Just wondering.

I know Don Reo created the show, but I suspect JL had a small amount of his life's adventures and details shape the John Hemingway character (like the Beckett references, his running commentary on anything that happened in the 1960s, his openness about being friends with anyone from any background, etc.). But the only way to truly know this is for JL to 1) tell us in Q&As or interviews, or 2) write an autobiography already, dammit!

In s2e1 "Changes," JL sits down in a chair by swinging his leg over the back of it, and I immediately thought of the Riker Maneuver. I know JL did it before Jonathan Frakes on TNG, but it will always be the Riker Maneuver to me.

Another way the show was ahead of its time was in its portrayal of sex workers and trans people. Most of the time, it's played for comedy on the show (I mean, it is a sitcom after all), but there's a very real attempt to share stories of Carly, Teddi and Pat that are humanizing. Teddi and Pat are trans sex workers, but they are accepted by most (not the male cop) and aren't just the butt of jokes. They even get included in simple things like group poker games and asked to watch the lunch counter when Dexter runs off to do something or other. That might seem like not a big deal, but at that time (the mid-90s), most inclusion of hookers and trans folks on TV usually involved heavy drama like trying to save them from their lives or begrudgingly acknowledging that they were a part of society with disdain and ridicule. And the overall acceptance of Carly as a friend and possible love interest without trying to save her or judge her was also a bit ahead of its time. And when there were moments of judgment, they were faced head on and challenged.

[chicago-pd-is-weird]

Oneshot - Hank Voight and The Crackhead Detective

Just a little oneshot based on what I think Hank’s retirement would generally be like! This comes from the co-written story called Hank Voight and The Crackhead Detective. It’s pinned in my profile right now!

“It’s a good gig, Hank,” Kate said as she sat at the table. It had been several years since she first met the Sergeant. “And it’s at the kids’ school. You’d see the three of them every day, along with all the other kids of Chicago. I know you love to help troubled youth here. This is a great opportunity to show them what a real policeman is. Not the crap they see on the news.” She sipped her hot cocoa as Hank finally settled across from her with coffee.

“I don’t know. I’d rather stay here and take the scumbags off the street.”

“Yeah, but they’re forcing you into retirement. You can’t hit the field like you used to. It’s either retirement or a place in the Ivory Tower until you die. Look, Adam is more than capable of taking over the unit, and I know you don’t want to be on a desk job. This is how you can still be out there and making a difference.”

Hank avoided her gaze, staring at the steam coming from his mug. He didn’t say anything for a while, contemplating the idea. Kate had been talking about this to him for months, weaseling the idea into his head every time they saw one another, which was quite often seeing as Hank was practically a grandfather to her kids. He let out a long sigh, then finally met her eyes. He felt he didn’t have much of a choice, seeing as they really were making him retire from Intelligence. He nodded. “Alright, set it up.”

—

Three months later…

—

Kate smiled as she walked on Adam’s arm into the school, looking around at the colorful displays and billboards the students had made. “You think Lillia will remember that one line?”

“If not, we can shout it from the audience,” Adam replied with a small laugh. “I think I have her entire song memorized myself at this point.”

“Aww, do you sing it to your unit at work?”

“I’ll admit, I’ve been caught singing a few times before I’ve had my coffee.”

Kate laughed and moved into the auditorium with Adam, taking a seat in the front row, instinctively closer to the doors. Despite being off-duty, the two were still police, and were ready to jump into action should something happen.

Just as they got settled, someone walked up to them, a familiar voice hitting their ears. “Well, if it isn’t the Ruzeks.”

Kate and Adam both looked up, Kate smiling and standing to greet him. “Sergeant Voight, to what do we owe the pleasure?” She hugged him gently, looking him over. He was dressed in his white shirt and tie. He wore his name tag on his chest and displayed the stripes on his sleeve proudly.

As she hugged him, he smiled widely and kissed her temple. “Just here doing my job.”

Adam was next, shaking Hank’s hand but going in for a hug afterwards. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so happy, Boss.” Adam still called Hank “Boss” despite the two of them being the same rank. In his mind, Voight would always be his superior.

Hank didn’t seem to mind. “I owe it to Kate. She pulled a lot of strings to get me here.”

Kate waved her hand dismissively. “Oh stop it, Hank. They needed a new SRO. I just highly recommended you to anyone who would listen. Same way I convinced you to take the job.”

“By talking about it at every opportunity?”

Kate laughed and nodded, sitting back down in her seat with Adam as Hank settled beside them. “Has it been alright?”

“It’s been… really great. Better than I thought it would be.” Hank smiled over at her. “You know me really well. I didn’t think I’d like it half as much as I do now.”

“Hank, I make a living out of reading people.” Kate smiled. “I clocked you the first week I was with you.”

“Except you thought you’d make him take furlough halfway through the week,” Adam chimed in.

Kate scoffed. “To be fair, I had no idea everyone in the Intelligence Unit was a misfit and an outlier. I mean, come on. Everyone I’d treated similarly had taken furlough. I think the record was two and a half days.”

“I shattered that,” Hank said with a smile. Despite the torture he’d endured after first meeting Kate, he’d come to love her that first week, though admittedly, not until the last day. He knew she was a person underneath her quirky exterior the morning of the fifth day, which made him warm up to her quickly after that.

“Exactly. There was you, and then everyone in your unit at the time. I mean, everyone laughed at some point, I think with the exception of Al, who was really tense, but after I brought him bananas and oranges, he opened up to me. Antonio invited me to his boxing gym after that. Jay and Kevin invited me out to Molly’s with Kim. And then Adam fell in love with me, for goodness sake.” She shrugged and smiled. “You just had a whole bunch of misfits that I happened to fit in with.”

Hank smiled. “I guess that’s just who I am - I’ve taken in strays since I was on the beat.” He shrugged a little as he stood. “Look, I’m gonna take another lap or two around to make sure everything’s alright, but save this seat for me when the show starts?”

Kate nodded. “Consider it done.”

Hank leaned down to kiss her head again, then shook Adam’s hand before leaving the auditorium. He roamed the hallways, watching the people as they filed in. He made his way out to the back of the auditorium, where the kids were lined up in the hallways, chatting as they got ready for the concert. First, Hank caught sight of Lillia, who walked over and hugged him. “Hi Grandpa Hank!”

“Hey Lillia,” he said softly, embracing her before pulling away to look down at her, hands on her shoulders. “Are you ready?”

“I… I’m trying to make sure I remember it,” she said, shifting her weight. “It’s hard.”

“You’ve got this, alright? Your mom is saving me a seat in the front row.”

“You’re gonna listen to me sing?” She smiled up at him.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Get back to your spot, okay?” He patted her back softly as she returned back to her spot. Hank walked further down the hallway, greeting a lot of the kids he knew, though he was seeking out one person in particular. He stopped to talk to Carter and Damien, who each hugged him and told him they’d be singing a duet. Again, Hank told them he’d be in the front row, beside their parents. He continued on, still seeking out one person. When he didn’t find him, he walked back through the hallway again. The kids started to file backstage in order as the show began.

Hank sighed, slowly moving through the halls as his mind raced with thoughts. He stopped at a corner just in time to see the kid he was looking for running up. “Hey, uh, Sergeant Voight, am I too late?”

Hank smiled down at him, putting a hand on his back. “Come on, everyone’s lined up backstage.”

“Are you sure I should do this? I don’t think-“

“Of course I’m sure, Camden,” he replied before letting him finish. “I’ve heard you sing. Look, I’ll be in the front row. Just find me, and sing to me. Nobody else matters.”

Camden sighed and stopped, turning to face him. “I don’t think I can do this…”

“Of course you can,” Hank replied, putting firm hands on his shoulders. “I’ll be watching, alright? I know you can do this. Just find me. Front row. To your left.”

Camden looked over Hank’s face for a moment, then slowly nodded. Hank smiled and adjusted Camden’s tie before pointing down the hallway. He turned and ran down it without another word to get his spot in line.

Hank smiled, then walked back through and into the auditorium just as the announcements were over. He sat down beside Kate again, watching the performances one by one.

.

When Camden took the stage, everything was quiet. He swallowed hard, looking like a deer in the headlights. His hands were by his side, gripping his pants tightly. At first, nothing happened as he looked over the crowd. The piano player took a long time to shuffle through the music before finding his piece.

Kate looked up at him, leaning over to Adam. “Poor thing looks more nervous than Lillia did.” She held his hand, using her other hand to rub his arm. Adam only hummed in response.

The piano music started, Camden looking out over the crowd. He seemed overwhelmed by the lights and the dozens of people in the audience. They could see his heart beating out of his chest, and he couldn’t hear anything but the thumping inside his own head.

When Camden missed his cue, it took him a moment to realize it before frowning as the piano stopped. The piano player looked to him. Camden cleared his throat and looked down, then back up.

Hank got up, standing and walking up to the stage, standing below it. “Hey, hey Camden,” he said softly. Camden’s eyes met Hanks as his face was illuminated. “Hey, don’t look at them. Look at me. It’s just me. Sing to me, okay? I’m right here, front row.”

Camden swallowed hard again, then nodded. Hank nodded to the piano player who started playing again. Hank slowly walked backward and took his seat in the front row, ignoring the knowing look from Kate and Adam. His eyes were locked with Camden’s as he began singing on cue.

Everyone in the audience was surprised by the melodious voice that came from the young man on stage. Even Kate and Adam were taken aback, seemingly entranced with everyone else in the audience as Camden sang “Africa” by Toto. When the chorus swelled, Camden closed his eyes and sang with deep passion and energy. Hank’s face split into a wide smile.

When the performance was over, Hank stood and clapped loudly, Kate and Adam following. Everyone else in the audience stood and clapped, cheering for the young man on stage. Hank cheered the loudest from the front row. Camden smiled widely, motioning Hank up on stage. Hank waved his hand dismissively, but Kate and Adam urged him to go. Hank reluctantly moved up the steps and into the stage, walking over and putting a hand on Camden’s shoulder as he smiled. “I told you you could do it.”

Camden smiled and hugged Hank. “Not without you.” Hank chuckled, but Camden grabbed the microphone. “Sergeant Voight believed in me. I think we’re all really thankful he decided to come to our school and be our SRO. Me, most of all. He believes in all of us.”

Hank walked with Camden backstage as the audience continued to applaud. When they were out in the hallways behind the auditorium, Camden hugged him again. “I meant it.”

“I know, kid. I know.” He smiled and hugged the boy tightly. “Now, you need to keep singing, alright? Sign up for chorus on Monday.”

“Yes sir,” Camden said, nodding and then taking his place backstage once more until the show was over.

Hank went back to the auditorium to take his seat beside Kate as the last few performances went. Then, everyone went out and bowed before the show was over. Hank stuck around with Kate and Adam as they greeted Lillia, Carter, and Damien. Camden came over to hang around them, and Hank introduced Camden to Kate’s children.

.

When they finally left, Hank watched everyone file out, doing one more round to ensure everything was good before the administrators locked up for the night. Camden sat outside on the steps as Hank walked out. He frowned. “Hey, nobody come to get you?”

“Ma prolly forgot about me again,” he said with a shrug. “She’ll remember eventually.”

Hank sighed. “You’re not going to sit out here in the cold?”

Camden shrugged. “Don’t really have a choice. It’s safer here than walking ten blocks home in the dark anyways.”

Hank shook his head. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride home.”

“Nah you don’t have to-“

“It’s on my way. Come on.” Hank urged the boy, who barely had a coat, to go with him as he walked down the steps. Camden followed him and got into the passenger seat of his SUV. Hank turned on the heat, allowing Camden to soak it up as he drove him home, not in any particular hurry to return the boy to his drugged-up mother.

.

When they arrived at Camden’s house, Hank looked to him. He put his hands on his shoulders. “Hey, look at me.” Camden met his eyes. “You’re better than your mom and dad. You’re better than drugs and jail and gangs and guns. You can have a better life. Don’t let them pull you into it. I’ve seen what happens to kids who let themselves get pulled in. Don’t let them, alright?”

Camden nodded slowly, letting out a small breath. “What if they make me?”

“Then- here.” He rustled around in his center console for a moment before pulling out a card. “Then you come talk to me, or you call the number on that card.”

Camden took the card. “Ruzek?”

“He’s my very good friend. You met him earlier. He’s a cop too, and if you can’t wait to see me, you call him, alright? You won’t be in any trouble if you call. We’ll protect you.”

Camden nodded slowly, taking the card and putting it in his pocket. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

That’s when Camden’s mother, in her nightgown, stepped out onto the porch. She waved at Hank in the car, urging Camden to come in. Camden reluctantly got out, saying bye to Hank and walking inside the house with his mother.

Hank sighed, waiting for a moment before slowly pulling out of the driveway. He’d seen that movie before, and hoped this time would turn out even better than Erin did.

[oldguardleatherdog]

For Father's Day:

"The One Decent Thing I Ever Did"

This is a monograph from 2015, previously posted here some time ago, a tale of my maternal grandmother, a below-zero winter night, the New York City subway West Side express during post-9/11, that mentions my father only in passing... and it's about my father.

THE ONE DECENT THING I EVER DID.

I.

A long time ago, during a time of struggle, I did one decent thing:

I'd just gotten on the subway in Midtown Manhattan on a brutal winter night, the No. 2 uptown express, when a couple with a small child boarded the car I was riding.

They were having a very loud conversation with their child (about four years old, I think) who was crying or somehow behaving in a way that was "bad". The mother took the belt from her jeans and raised her arm to strike her child with it.

Don’t ask me why I did this, but I rose from my seat, grabbed the mother’s arm mid-swing, and said, “As long as I am on this train, you will not hit that child with that belt.” She and the child’s father were stunned into silence for a moment as I made my way back to my seat.

Immediately after I sat down, the mother and father began leveling all kinds of vitriol my way, calling me every name in the book, including all the variations of “faggot” in use at the time. I just sat there, smiled wide, laughed loud, and shined ‘em on:

“You can call me ‘faggot.’ You can call me anything you like. Because every minute you focus on me, you are not beating that child with that belt.”

The crowded train car fell silent.

II.

Yuletide, 1982. I was in the service in Germany and took leave to see my grandmother in Florida. My grandfather had passed away the previous March, and something told me to seize the chance to see Grandma while she was still with us. I was only 20, born late in life to my parents, and never got to know my grandparents in the way my older brothers did.

We were in my Grandma's airy, air-conditioned Fort Lauderdale kitchen having coffee one morning when the rest of the family had gone out for breakfast. “Would you like a little pick-me-up in your cup, dear?” I laughed. “No thanks, Gramma, it's a little early for me.” The joys of Florida.

I'd had a rough upbringing by any measure - my father was first-gen shanty Irish born in the early 1920's with a mean spirit and a violent edge, mother not Irish but still violent - but at age 20 I hadn't yet realized just how rough it had been.

“You know,” I said to Grandma, “Harold and Evelyn did the best they could. I mean, I turned out all right, right?”

Grandma leaned back in her chair, took a nice drag off one of her unfiltered Camels, and said in her declarative New England way the words that always meant Listen up, you're about to hear gospel truth:

“Well, I'll tell ya, Joe.” I was all ears.

She took another hit off of her cigarette. “I held my tongue. More than once, I held my tongue.

“But one day, your mother and father were in the front yard with your grandfather and me, and I walked up to your father and said, “Harold, I just want to tell you something. It takes a real man to beat a child with a belt.”

...Wow.

I only wish she hadn’t held her tongue!

I sipped my coffee, looked for palmetto bugs on the lanai. “Grandma,” I said, “I'm all right.”

She looked away, and I saw the colors of the rainbow in the prism of her pendant.

III.

What was I doing on the 2 train heading uptown in the bitter blistering freezing cold New York winter?

Heading “home” – that is, to one of the many rundown firetrap SRO hotels paid by the City of New York to house homeless people with HIV. The City's AIDS regulations set the policy: if you showed up at the HIV center at 30th and 8th before 7 PM on a given day, New York City was obliged to find you housing for the same night and for the next 30 days in a row at the very least.

Strange - in those days, New York would house you but not feed you, and San Francisco would feed you but not house you. Come to think of it, that's the way it is these days.

My dank, filthy, crawling with roaches and vermin crack-house "shelter" was way uptown, near 96th and Broadway. (I had always dreamed about making it to Broadway, ha ha.)

96th Street and Broadway stop was next. The train car was still silent as the parents sat sullenly and the child - Jesus, he can't be older than 3 or 4 years old, I thought - was staring at me, no expression on his little face, but eyes wide as saucers.

The train screeched to a stop. I got up and headed to the door, passing the couple with the small child and the loose belt. They were silent and did not regard me as I passed; the child, I think, might have glanced at me, but I’m not sure. I knew that after I got off the train, or after they got off the train, that poor kid was probably going to get beaten. Severely.

Out the door and onto the bone-chilling platform at 96th Street. A young woman who had witnessed the mother wield that belt came up to me and said, “I’m so glad you did that, I wanted to say something, but I was too…” Her voice trailed off as the pained look on her face finished her thought.

“I understand,” I said to her as our eyes met in that New York way of speaking the unspeakable, then made my way up the stairs into the below-zero winter breezes of the Upper West Side of Manhattan.

What the hell, I thought as I made my way out of the station, I had nothing to lose. Those were dark times, desperate days. I'm no angel. But just once, on that long-ago Number 2 train, I was granted the grace to do one decent thing.

Animal J. Smith San Francisco, California July 22, 2015 and June 18, 2023 v2.0

My maternal grandparents, Ed and Ethel (Schirmer) Olson, Fort Lauderdale, Florida, c. 1980

[peachesofteal]

HDRHAIRYIWEVIE HYPERVENTILATING??? DYING??? CHOKING ON MY WATERMELON

standby i actually am choking in watermelon

BUT WHEN THEY FET BACK???? WHEN T EHY HET BACK AND DARKING IS SRO ROUND AND FULL OF BABY???? NO SHIT WAIT SHE WOULDNT LET THSM SEE HER

LH MY GOD MRIWVPSGR

ThH THE SHOPINF CART!!? SHOPPING ASK??? THEY SEE BABY AT GROCERY ATORE??? THAT HAPOENED IM NOR DELUSIONAL???

Can I just say, I appreciate this outpouring of enthusiasm and emotion coming from you. Made me cackle. 🩵

The grocery store ask is for the baby trap though! But we could will do something similar for this.

[just-a-queer-fanboy]

LMAOOO I SENT MY ABUSER A VID ON CONSENT AND SHE WENT CRYING TO HER MOM

Her mom texted mine saying she "reached her breaking point" last night this is the funniest fucking thing I've ever heard. If that's her breaking point she's gonna be a real pleasure to have in the adult world. Grow the fuck up dumbass.

"She's lost friends" When I told a guy what she did to me he told me he didn't care because she was his friend and I wasn't.

"She's depressed" I was dissociated almost all the time I was with her. I tried to kill myself 3 times after I realized she was abusing me. I started cutting again because of her.

"You're bullying her," I've had rocks thrown at me for wearing a pride shirt. People have told me to kill myself for being trans. I developed anorexia at 11 because I was bullied for my weight. All I've done to her was make jokes about things she's said and done.

"She's reached her breaking point" If this is her breaking point I can't wait to see what will happen when something actually bad happens to her. If she becomes homeless, if she loses a job, if someone is a tiny bit mean to her, what will happen? She has the temperament of a school shooter and the attitude of a man who thinks the clit is a myth.

"She's being bullied" School staff have referred to how I talk about her as "harassing someone for a mistake". The counselor said I was just as bad as her. The SRO said no crime was committed and if I didn't want it, I should have left the relationship.

I don't give a shit if I hurt the rapists feelings. I don't give a shit if I'm "bullying" her by telling her not to be racist to my friends. I don't fucking care if consent is her trigger word. She can pull a hannah baker for all I card. What I don't get is why the adults around me are more concerned with the model victim myth than with dealing with real problems.

[foolstojoinmyevilarmy]

Steel Squadron

Not gonna let a little thing like a foot injury followed by minor surgery slow me down for too long. This is the first of my pieces of the Steel Squadron, a team of Starfinder SROs (sentient robotic organisms).

Click below to learn more about Query!

An Abadarcorp board member attempts a hostile takeover. An aging pop starlet attempts to assassinate an up and coming new talent. A biotech engineer researches the secret to extending life beyond its natural state.

What do these three things have in common?

Good question.

They call me Query. Originally I was designed to be a highly advanced algorithm for crime solving. Too bad for the Stewards that I gained sentience and grew wise to the role they play in all this.

Now, I’m ostensibly a Starfinder agent like any other. But what I’m here for is the truth. There’s a group of people out there, organized, who want to see the Society fall. That’s why I’m working with a team of people I can trust, uncompromised: the Steel Squadron. We all have our own reasons, but we also have each other’s backs. We’re going to take down this “Organization”, no matter what it takes.

[misscammiedawn]

Oh, this might be one that requires pondering:

If there was a perfect con day that stretched ever onwards and you could attend classes on whatever subject you wished- and still have time to spend with your partners- what classes would you want to spend time in?

WAIT add in -or teach- to that last question. Just, again, assuming a perfect day where you've had plenty of time to workshop it to your hearts content. :)

The addition came as a separate ask.

I would love to teach the Presence class again and ensure that those who couldn't attend last time, yourself included, could see me at my absolute best.

I truly wish to see my metamour, Spiral Turquoise teach again. His class was significant enough that in my 2020 journal I highlighted it but I do not have firm memory of attending.

Likewise I would love to watch the legendary classes from 2020 that I either missed or can only scarcely recall such as sleepingirl's rope bondage induction and SecretSubject and Lee Allure's dual induction, both of which were SRO.

I have attended Mind The Baron and Mazirian's hairplay class at every convention I have been to and have no intention of skipping it, especially if I got stuck in a Murray Loop of the convention and could see every class as many times as I wanted.

I'd care to check out Skaetlett's classes on MC Lit and one class they taught in 2021 which I was forced to miss that I still regret missing and know they are presently not teaching.

I'd also love to be a lovely assistant/demo bottom for a class at some point. Ignoring the Compliment Class which we have joked about, there are many classes I know I could be a valuable asset to that I do not really have the drive or charisma to take the lead upon. Not to mention individuals in the community that I share a specific kind of vibe with. Pretty much all the ace folx and I could trade off, though I don't consider myself to be even with Tennfan, Ella or Secret. Though I'd argue I'm not on the same level as Daja, either. I just have the ability to bend her to my whim and make her a pretty little demo for my presentation.

Honestly, I think I'd just want to attend everything. I want to know everyone. I want to be part of the conversation. I want to know it all. I want my life to reflect just how obsessed I am with this hobby and to graduate from the outskirts.

That requires effort. It requires me to actually make the Minnesota community recover from the pandemic. It requires showing up to online munches and meets. It require attending more than twice a year.

and I want that.

I want that a lot.

This community, particularly Beguiled/Charmed mean the world to me. They're my home away from Oikos.

[187days]

Day One Hundred Forty-Eight

I don’t know exactly what happened, besides the fact that it was 4/20-related nonsense, but the SRO and The Principal were having a rough day before the morning bell even rang. 

Me, I was just making photocopies for class. My morning was totally uneventful. And I like it like that! Plus, I actually had a pretty good teaching day, despite the fact that it’s two days before spring break and everything’s feeling antsy about it. 

My World lesson was about the aftermath of WWII. I lectured about the cost of the war, the collapse of colonial empires, the formation of the UN and the ratification of various treaties, and, of course, the Cold War. I falso ielded a ton of questions in both sections- expected in Block 3, unexpected and awesome in Block 2- and then assigned an article about the deadliest proxy wars of the Cold War. More on that next time.

I had to leave early with the track team, so I basically said hi to my APGOV students, handed them the FRQ section of their final practice test, and left them with Mr. F, who’d agreed to cover for me. I’ll see how they did when I get to work tomorrow.

The meet was hosted by the team my cousin runs for, so I got to see her, plus some of our other relatives, which was neat. It was a great day for competing, and it went fairly well for us (it was a tri-meet, we split the result, cousin’s team won). A lot of athletes threw down PRs, or met post-season qualifying standards. And they were having fun! The girls brought ribbons for their hair (I obviously tied a bow in my ponytail, too), and snacks for in between races and on the bus rides, and they were so loud cheering each other on. The boys were loud for each other, too. The best moment was when one of our rookies in the 100m ran a PR, won his heat, and was promptly surrounded by all the distance runners on their way to check in for the 1600m.  

We’re not practicing tomorrow afternoon, but we are back in action at a big invitational on Saturday, so stay tuned!

[jumerccadelina]

On Confession

     Some friends have commented on a previous post on Confession or the Sacrament of Reconciliation as a cure for the deep wounds of the soul. Most of the comments were encouraging.  But some, sent privately very valid questions. I wish to tackle these questions here.

     There were essentially two sets of questions. The first is, “Where is that in the Bible? Does the Bible specifically say that we must confess to a priest? Can’t I confess directly to God in prayer?”

     The other set came from Catholic friends who asked, “ What if I am not comfortable with our priest? I know some things about him, and believe me, he is not in a position to forgive my sins.”  Another said, “Can I trust the priests? These are my deepest, darkest secrets we are talking about here.” 

     To the first question: Is Confession in the bible, the answer is Yes. We just have to dig deeper because the answer comes in three stages.

     Stage one: Can Jesus forgive sins? Those of us today might answer this with, “Duh. It is a no-brainer. Of course he can forgive sins. He is Lord.” But I tell you, this concept was so foreign to his contemporaries that it turned their world upside down. Consider this scene described in 3 of the 4 Gospels. A group of four friends dug a hole through the roof to lower a fifth friend who was a paralytic. Jesus was preaching to a Standing Room Only (SRO) crowd and they could not go through the door. This is what Jesus said:

    “Seeing their faith, Jesus said to the paralytic, ‘My child, your sins are forgiven.’ Now some scribes were sitting there, and they thought to themselves, ‘How can this man talk like that? He is blaspheming. Who can forgive sins but God?’ (Mark 2:5-7)

     It was clear to the scribes at the time, that in only two instances can a sin be forgiven. One is when the person who is wronged faces the offender and says, “I forgive you.” Another is when God, who is the Father and Creator of all says to the sinner, “Your sins are forgiven.” Even the High Priest could not forgive sins. He could only offer sacrifices. Jesus claimed to have this divine power: the forgiveness of sins.  And to prove it, he went on to heal the man physically too. The outer, physical healing was a sign of the inner, invisible healing of the soul.

     Stage two: Did this power to forgive remain with Jesus alone, or did he pass it on, or delegate it to others? Consider these two verses:

     Addressing his disciples (like he did to Peter previously in Matthew 16:19 using the same words ‘loosing and binding’), he said, “I tell you solemnly, whatever you bind on earth shall be considered bound in heaven; whatever you loose on earth shall be considered loosed in heaven.” (Matthew 18;18)

     When Jesus rose from the dead, he appeared before his disciples even if the doors were locked and he said:

     “’As the Father sent me, so I am sending you.’  After saying this he breathed on them and said, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit. For those whose sins you forgive, they are forgiven; for those whose sins you retain, they are retained.’

     Question: How would they know which sins to forgive and which sins to retain, which ones to bind and which ones to loose? Those sins must be stated aloud or denounced publicly, right?

     Stage three: Did this authority to bind and loose, to retain or forgive, remain with the disciples only, or were they also passed on to the followers in the succeeding centuries?

     The answer can be seen from the Letter of James. The last section contains exhortations for the elders of the Church, those who succeeded the disciples. These elders were called presbuterous in Greek. The later terms Presbyters or priests came from this Greek word. This is what he says.

     “Is any among you sick? Let him call for the elders (presbuterous) of the Church, and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord; and the prayer of faith will save the sick man, and the Lord will raise him up; and if he has committed sins, he will be forgiven. Therefore, confess your sins to one another, and pray for one another, that you may be healed.” (James 5:14-16)

     James does not say, “Confess your sins to Jesus alone.” or “Confess your sins silently, in your heart.” We can do these of course. Many other biblical passages describe people praying to God directly and expressing remorse for their sins. But if we are to truly follow the word of God, forgiveness of sins comes when we “confess our sins to one another” or more specifically, to a presbyter or priest. It is a gift, freely given by God. A way to seek and receive mercy and healing. 

     Which brings us to the second set of questions.

    A short answer to the concerns about the merits of the priests is the Latin phrase: Ex opere operato. The efficacy of the sacraments (in this discussion, the Sacrament of Penance or Reconciliation) is not derived from the merits of the priest but from the sacrament itself.

     A good analogy is to look at the field of Medicine. Not all doctors are the same. Some are more knowledgeable, more compassionate, more up to date than others. The same goes for surgeons. Some consider each operation to be a masterpiece, and would go to great lengths to make the surgery as well performed as possible. Some are more haphazard, going for speed and are happy if the basic steps are taken. But an antibiotic whether prescribed by a very knowledgeable doctor  or a  less skilled physician will have the same effect  on a patient who receives it. The removal of an inflamed appendix, whether done beautifully by a skillful consultant or haphazardly by a resident in training will have the same effect: a cure from appendicitis.

      Not all priests are the same too. It is of course, best to look for one you are comfortable with to make regular confessions to. But because the Sacrament is a gift instituted by God, it will work even if the priest is imperfect.

     May these clarifications help all of us to take a good look at this often neglected gift that is available to us all.

[ryanhamiltonwalsh]

“Hard Rock”Cuisine

The other day, I was thinking how hilarious it was that the famous chain of rock mem·o·ra·bil·i·a restaurants was based on the genre of music known as HARD ROCK. And that it’s paired with the word “CAFE.” It’s so funny and stupid to me. A few years earlier or later, we might have had a very differently named restaurant. Think: Heavy Metal Bistro or Psychedelic Rock Lunch Counter or The Punk Rock Canteen. 

As a music genre name, “Hard Rock” really takes off in the early seventies, but it begins frequently appearing in print in the mid-sixties to describe certain rock songs, like The Kinks’ “You Really Got Me” and The Kingsmen’s “Louie Louie.” Check out LIFE Magazine putting it to good use here in 1967.

Here’s Billboard Magazine in 1966 referring to the Beatles’ “She Loves You” as “hard rock,” which is now humorous as we know the future levels of hardness on the horizon, even for the Beatles, which retroactively renders this song so soft. 

1965: The Industry is already worried it’s not hard enough.

But by 1970 and onward, music journalists begin using the term exactly how we think of it today, firmly placing bands like Led Zeppelin, Alice Cooper, Blue Oyster Cult, and Aerosmith into the new genre. 

Then, in the summer of 1971, the first Hard Rock Cafe opens in London. A little over a decade later, the chain started to expand all over the world and the rest is rockstory. 

But it actually wasn’t the first Hard Rock Cafe. We know this because HRC’s American founders, Isaac Tigrett and Peter Morton, have explained where they got the name from: the back cover of The Doors’ 1970 LP Morrison Hotel. 

Morrison Hotel was a SRO hotel at 1246 South Hope Street, Los Angeles. Doors’ keyboardist Ray Manzarek spotted the location and suggested it for a cover shoot. 

Here’s a listing of the hotel from 1915! (another ad confirmed that this Eastman Morrison Hotel was the same one at 1246 South Hope St). It’s unclear if it was always a flophouse and Eastman was just putting a marketing spin on it here, or if between 1915 and 1970 it devolved into one. Being able to roughly date the hotel’s years of operation is important here only to contrast what we’ll see below. 

The band took the cover shot and then searched for more locations. About a mile away, at the corner of 5th and Wall St, they found a place called The Hard Rock Cafe. Here they are in front of it as photographed by Henry Diltz. 

But it’s a shot without them that ended up on the back cover. 

Album cover location detective Bob Egan has done, as always, extensive and amazing work on this one: “The restaurant chain named The Hard Rock Cafe would later take its name from this album. One can only wonder though, where the name ‘hard rock’ came from to the owner of this low-rent cafe near skid row Los Angeles. Hard labor? Hard rock to blast to make the highway? The denizens of this bar don't seem like Zeppelin fans...though ya never know.” 

You just have to look at the shots they took inside the bar to further suspect its name likely had nothing to do with music.

Later, Michael Jackson filmed part of the “Beat It” video at the same location.

Here’s a later photo of the locale with a large sign added out front: 

So the question is: what year did the Hard Rock Cafe open at 300 E 5th Street in Los Angeles? That would really help indicate where its name comes from, and in turn, what the famous chain of restaurants is actually named after. Initial attempts to figure out a range of dates this HRC was open didn’t yield much, so I’m leaving it in the hands of you, dear reader. Send info to ryan@hallelujahthehills.com

[shalomanna]

From 2 years ago.

One of my favorite galaxies of all time, the sombrero galaxy m104. This galaxy is challenging to shoot and process, this image took 48hrs of exposure time total, and the final result blew me away. This might be the most detailed image of the galaxy captured from the northern hemisphere by an amateur. I should mention btw this image uses zero noise reduction or AI processing (excluding color noise reduction), it is just good quality data. This galaxy is 30 million light years away in the constellation Virgo. This was captured of course from SRO, with several nights of sub-arcsecond seeing. Hope you enjoy!

Pic: Skyline

[riverdamien]

The Wounds That Heal!

"Wounds That Remain!"

John 13:1-15

==========================

There is a wound in the heart of these high holy days, a scarlet thread binding both the divine and the human in an experience of deep love and suffering.

Today we celebrate in a particular way the overflowing of God's presence in the Eucharist, in  Christ who is poured out in self-emptying love. This sacrifice overflows into our love and concern as we see Christ present in others; two nights ago I held the hands of an individual dying at San Francisco General, I sat with him until he was gone, I cried, in blessing him--my care, my love, is poured out in Christ who poured out his self-emptying love.

We gaze upon the wounds of Christ crucified on Good Friday, we even adore the wood of the cross on which he hung. On this cross, we encounter the God who submits to being broken out of a deep love for us in our brokenness, the God who becomes wounded to heal our wounds, the God who chooses to walk with us even though that walk ends brutally on Calvary. We contemplate the Great Silence of God amid that suffering.

There is no need to label me--priest/counselor/spiritual director, Reverend, Doctor/ for those words denote a wholeness that none of us have, a wholeness which others look to, all I am is in the words of Henri Nouwen a "wounded healer", I sit in the pain and suffering of others as a result of being a broken, human being. I sit in the Great Silence, simply being present, and that is what I look for at times in my pain, someone simply to sit, listen, without judgment. The Cross calls all of us to experience our own woundedness and become a "wounded healer."

On Holy Saturday we enter into solidarity with all who are bereaved. We contemplate the disorienting stillness of the garden, the unnerving sense of absence, the crushing pain of a future denied. Before the world-shaking eruption of the resurrection, there is only the earth-shattering realm of grief, of knowing some wounds may not be healed this side eternity.

All of us are in grief--over aging, over retirement, not getting the job we were destined for, and on the street many are in a death of not able to obtain housing because of their mental illness, being on the streets so long they know nothing else, and those who are far yond being able to work.

I think of George who is having his feet removed because of drugs and failure to treat his diabetes, he has been on Polk for 20 years and now is alone in the pain in an SRO hotel. I think of Francene who is fifty-something, on the street selling her jewelry, living in SROs, wearing shoes that are worn out, looking for an apartment, that frankly is not there, I wanted to end up retiring from a large church, with praise and glory, I wanted to live a middle-class life, and yet I live on the edge. In this great silence, there is God in the midst of our suffering.

Into this darkness, the first lights of the Easter Vigil flicker, The light shines in the darkness and the night overcomes it (John 1:5). Here we may be tempted to think Easter is simply a big electric blanket thrown over the brutality of the previous days.

And yet when Jesus is risen he still has wounds, pierced hands, pierced side, a pierced heart. The horrible torture he endured, the trauma inflicted upon him by callous, uncaring, and unforgiving people, remains imprinted upon his glorified body.

And the wounds, once a cause of tremendous pain for both redeemer and redeemed, have now become fonts of healing, conversion, gratitude, and joy.

In celebrating these holy mysteries we encounter a wholeness bigger than all the brokenness the world could ever muster, and a goodness greater than all the suffering we may experience.

Most importantly we begin to know the Love that is stronger than death and to learn that this love has a face, and a name, and is holding us with hands that have known suffering. And we believe this Love will always hold us, whatever wounds may come.

As I age, physically decline, and am more wounded; having few friends, and see death more and more, and am wounded with each death I experience, I believe with all my heart, that this Love will hold me, whatever wounds I have and which will come.

The cross above was made last year by a friend and revised this year. On it are photos of young, and I mean young men who have died violent deaths through the years. Each one was homeless, a prostitute, questioning life, and each one is being held in the arms of the Great Love, each one is in the Communion of Saints, and the day is coming when I will see them in all of their wholeness.

Lou Kaver sums it all it all up:

"The central teaching for followers of Jesus is at the heart of Maundy Thursday.

While gathered with  his friends Jesus instructed:

"Love one another," and "By this will others know that you are my followers: your love for one another."

No other dogma, creed, or faith-filled experience is as important as this core teaching."

Deo Gratias! Thanks be to God!

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Prayer of St. Brendan!

"Help me to journey beyond the familiar

and into the unknown.

Give me the faith to leave old ways and break fresh ground with You. Christ of the mysteries I trust in You to be stronger than each storm within me.

I will trust in the darkness and know that my times, even now, are in Your hands.

Tune my spirit to the music of heaven,

and somehow, make my obedience count for You"

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(Temenos and Fr. River seek to remain accessible to everyone. We do not endorse particular causes, political parties, or candidates, or take part in public controversies, whether religious, political or social--Our pastoral ministry is to everyone!

Press Release:

"Jesus continues to be crucified in all those who are crucified in history...There are not enough Stations of the Cross to depict all the ways in which the  Lord continues to be persecuted, imprisoned, condemned to death and crucified today!"

-Leonardo Boff

What: Non-Violent Witness in the Tenderloin to commemorate Good Friday!

(Rain, Springling, or Threatening to Rain--The Stations of the Cross will proceed at Noon!)

Tenderloin Stations of the Cross

“A Journey With People on the Street!”

“Our Haunted-ness!”

When:

March 29, 2024

Noon-2:00 p.m.

Meet in Front of Polk Street-Side City Hall

Why:

There are approximately 8, 000 people on the street, without housing, or health care, they suffer from prejudice, anger, and hatred; they are shuffled around as if they are "objects" rather than human beings.

As followers of Jesus, and all who care, living in a war-making and uncaring empire we say loudly and clearly with Jesus: "Love one Another," "Love your enemies", "Be merciful as God is merciful," "Put away the sword," and "Thou shalt not kill."

We witness as people of faith who believe in God's reign of justice, love, peace, and restorative justice!

Sponsored by Temenos Catholic Worker

For more information:

Fr. River Sims, D.Min., D.S.T.

415-305-2124

temenos@gmail.com

www.temenos.org

www.paypal.com

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