The Stupidest Revenants in Modern Life: DST the Electoral College, and Inches

Daylight Saving Time made sense when the country was built on farming and manual labor. People woke up with the sun. Work depended on daylight. Shifting the clock actually changed how much usable light you had in a day. That world is gone. We are not an agrarian society anymore. We haven’t been for a long time. Yet twice a year we keep yanking the clock around like it still matters.

The whole thing is stupid now. Most people work indoors. Most people live by digital schedules. Our phones adjust automatically. Our jobs don’t depend on squeezing the last bit of sunlight out of the evening. But we still cling to this outdated ritual that does nothing except screw up sleep cycles, disrupt kids’ routines, and make everyone miserable for a week. It’s a tradition that survived only because no one bothered to kill it.

Why Celtics Fans Need to Stop Ignoring Kevin McHale

Kevin McHale wasn’t just part of the Big Three. He was the piece that made the whole thing work. Bird was the genius. Parish was the anchor. But McHale was the matchup nightmare that turned Boston’s front line into something the league had never seen before. Without him, the Big Three isn’t the Big Three. It’s just Bird and Parish with a missing limb.

What’s wild is how often he gets ignored now. Modern Celtics fans talk about Bird like he carried the entire decade on his back, and they treat McHale like he was some nice supporting character instead of the guy who put half the league in the torture chamber. He was the one opponents dreaded. He was the one Barkley and Olajuwon openly admitted they couldn’t guard. He was the one who could drop 30 on you without breaking a sweat or saying a word.

The Dog Who Broke My Heart and the Dog Who Put It Back Together

I didn’t go looking for Lulu. She found me. She was five years old when I got her, already past the puppy chaos, already herself. The first time I saw her, she walked straight over, climbed into my space like she belonged there, and rested her head on my heart. Not my lap. Not my hand. My heart. I said her name and she responded instantly, like she already knew it was hers. From that moment on, she was mine and I was hers.

The Myth of the “Great Dad" and the Reality of Child Neglect

Trigger Warning: Child abuse both physical and sexual, serious neglect

I have come to realize that my father was not the great man everyone insists he was. People love to build legends out of the bare minimum, and he benefited from that more than most. They thought he was the world's greatest man and father, because he was raising two girls "all by himself".

My sister was raised by her best friend's family, in their home, where she essentially lived from age 7 to 15. I stayed home until I was ten and moved in with my mother for a year. Then St. Ann's and being trained like a wild dog. Ma and St. Ann's staff were the people who taught me how to fake it enough to survive in normal people situations. 

The truth about Dad is simpler and uglier. He did not protect me. He did not teach me. He did not discipline me. He neglected me so thoroughly that it shaped the entire trajectory of my childhood.

When Their Rights Are Sacred and Yours Are Optional

I am absolutely, unapologetically, and without exception pro transgender rights...

The Gormless Quayle

I miss Dan Quayle and his absolutely harmless idiocy. Don't you?...

My new cussword insult list

"Cocksucker" is one of those insults that hits hard, but it hits in the wrong direction. Culturally and historically it has been used as a put down that basically says "You are a homosexual and thus you are worthy of contempt". It drags a whole group of people who never did a thing to me into a fight they were not part of. It punches down, not out. Once I actually looked at the word instead of just using it for the sound, it stopped feeling sharp and started feeling lazy...

Insurance SUCKS, Free Luigi!

I did SO much today

First I dealt with health insurance for several hours, found out that no, they DON'T cover my online psych care like they said they do before I switched to them (it's United Healthcare. Luigi did a GOOD fucking thing, and I wanna put money on his fucking jailhouse commissary account!). So after about four hours dealing with them I said: "Ya know, take your UHC bullshit and get royally fucked, okay? I'm going back to Molina SOONEST, motherfuckers!" And yes, I DID swear a blue streak. Then I hung up, and I miss the old fucking phones you could slam down in anger. Jesus, the things we miss.

Called 211, switched back to Molina which is effective April 1. My psychiatrist sent my scrips in even though he didn't get paid for that. Don't think I need any refills on body meds until next month, but we'll see. I am covered under United Hell Care for the month of March, so my meds should be covered...

Creating, Growing, and Returning to Life

For a long time, I thought my creative life had gone quiet. Not dead, just sleeping under a pile of exhaustion, pain, and the everyday grind of being a human with a body that doesn’t always cooperate. But lately something has cracked open again. I’ve been wandering back into the arts like someone returning to a house they used to live in. Everything feels familiar, but also new in ways I didn’t expect..

The Voice I Thought I Lost

 

Me, 17 years old

All my childhood and teens I sang, sang all the time. Played guitar. Music was the thing that brought me to life, and I wanted nothing more than to buy a PA system and join a band. The singers I listened to shaped my style. Grace Slick, Tina Turner, Ann Wilson, Janis Joplin, Janis Ian, Joni Mitchell.

My dad always encouraged me in my music, always asked me to play and sing for him, always got happy when I learned a new song or wrote one. He especially loved that. He gifted me my Harmony Sovereign for Christmas when I was twelve and paid for guitar lessons twice a week for several years. He was my biggest fan.

When I was fourteen I won a school wide talent show singing the 59th Street Bridge Song by Simon and Garfunkel and accompanying myself on my Harmony Sovereign guitar. That was the kind of kid I was. Music was where I lived...