Married!

 

 

 

On this day in 1936 my parents got married by a justice of the peace (No it wasn't because of what you are thinking) and honeymooned in Provincetown.

The problem was my father was Catholic and my mother was Episcopalian. So my mother became a Catholic and were married in a Catholic church in January.

I always wondered, why my parents got and anniversary card from my grandmother in January, hence the anniversary card

 

 

 

 

 

 

---

  

I inherited my mother's diaries... and in it she talks about this new man who just started working in the office.

 

Saturday 9: Animal Crackers in My Soup

Saturday 9: Animal Crackers in My Soup (1935)
On Saturdays I take a break from the heavy stuff and have some fun… 

Unfamiliar with this week's tune? Hear it here.

This month Saturday 9 will be tasty, featuring songs with food in the title.
 

1) Do you eat soup all year round, or do you consider it a seasonal dish?
Well… two things.
The first is that I’m on Cape Cod and we have “chowdah.”
The second is that I haven’t had soup in a long time… I went trough my cabinets and half of the soup had expired.

2) Gazpacho is a popular cold soup. Made with water-rich tomatoes, cucumbers and bell peppers, it's considered a good choice for hot weather because it's hydrating. What are your favorite summertime foods?
Well ah… it is really a year round favorite… lobster. In the summer it is lobster roll and in the winter it is lobster Newberg.

3) This week, Shirley Temple sings of the delights of having crackers in her soup. How often do you add crackers to your soup: always, sometimes, never? 
Now with every order on the Cape you get oyster crackers which I toss in a big jar. When I get the munchies I split them open and put cream cheese on those little halves.

4) "Animal Crackers in My Soup" was the big musical number in the 1935 movie Curly Top. Shirley played Elizabeth, who helps her older sister find love with a handsome millionaire. Have you ever played matchmaker? If yes, were your efforts successful?
No, I haven’t tried being a match maker.

5) Gertrude Temple, Shirley's mother, was her daughter's onset hairstylist, creating the famous "curly top" with pin curls. What's your hair care regimen? 
Well every time you talk about hair… you got to have hair before you can style it.

6) Bartenders are still called upon to create the non-alcoholic Shirley Temple, made with ginger ale, lemon-lime soda, and grenadine. What's the most recent alcoholic beverage you drank? 
Whoa, another hard question. It has been so long ago that I can’t remember. Probably some sherry when I was making some Newberg.

7) In 1935, when this song was popular, Amelia Earhart flew from Honolulu to Oakland, California. Are you a nervous flyer?
Nope.

8) Also in 1935, The Hoover Dam was dedicated. Today it's a popular tourist attraction, with more than 7 million visitors each year. Have you ever been to Las Vegas?
Nope.

9) Random question: You get a spur-of-the-moment invitation to a meal with your best friend. Could you go wearing what you have on right now?
No… it is 2AM.

---

I woke up at around 1AM with voices! ????? they sound like right outside. I do a walk around inside the cottage listening. There are some men sitting out on a deck kitty-corner across the street. It is so quite that sound travels.

During the day you can’t hear the traffic on Rt. 6 (The very same Rt. 6 that ends in California, we have

the beginning of it. Where Rt. 6 begin is the Atlantic Ocean. If you keep going east you will come to Spain.

It is like night and day on the Cape now that schools back in session. I was at the grocery store the other day when there was a traffic jam at the end of Aisle 3. Someone joked about not having to worry about traffic anymore now that’s summers over. I quipped… the end of the “no left turn season” which got a laugh.

I had company all last week and company for Labor Day, then I’m home for two weeks. Then back up to the Cape until around the end of October.

Life On A Sandbar: Tell the Time of Day

When you wake up early in the morning, you can hear the traffic on Route 6—mostly truck traffic. Overnight, it is gas trucks, food trucks, and all the other things that the Cape needs. When the sound of the truck traffic dies out, you know the four-wheelers will be taking over.

There are two ways to tell if it is low tide: your nose and pickup truck traffic. If the pickup trucks are heading for the beach, it's low; conversely, if they are heading away, the tide is coming in. Huh? You see, at low tide, the oyster beds are exposed so the farmers can tend to their crop—oysters. From what I understand, as the oysters grow, they put them in larger cages.

Then there are "switch days"—Saturdays and Sundays. If you sit in P-town for brunch outside, you might hear a mysterious rumble and start looking at each other wondering what on earth that noise is. Finally, the waiter bursts out laughing and tells you what's coming: sure enough, it's a parade of people walking to the docks with suitcases on wheels. It is 11:00 AM, you have to be out of your rooms, and the ferry to Boston leaves at 11:30. The afternoon boats bring the wave in the opposite direction.

The year is divided into two seasons: the "no left turn" season, also known as summertime, and the rest of the year.

Right about now... POOF! The traffic is gone, along with the crowded streets and parking lots, the fighting for a table at a restaurant, and the rug rats. Everyone is heading back to school.

But then there are the weekends. It is like the Cape inhales and fills with cars, bikes, and surfboards. And then it exhales, and the traffic all reverses, cars with surfboards and kayaks on their roofs and bicycles on their tailgates heading back off-cape.

So this Saturday, it's cloudy, cold (mid-60s), and dreary. It is very quiet.

Things That I’ve Noticed Once I Transitioned

I started this list over twenty years ago, when I first transitioned. I thought I would discover endless differences between men and women. Instead, after all these years, I only have two things that really stand out.

First and for most: My god they talk in the bathrooms!

Second. Men are macho. I've noticed that many men seem to communicate through competition, confidence, and posturing. “Me Caveman! Ugh!”

Women, on the other hand, often seem more cerebral and relational in the way they interact.

One way I've come to think about it is that men often compete to win a mate, while women are more likely to present or "preen" themselves.  Women are nurturing, men are competitive.

But you  know what else it says… in over twenty years I haven’t seen that much difference between the genders. I think that is the amazing part! We are more alike than different.

It is how far you are on the spectrum that matters. Super macho men can go too far, as we see with Hegseth. When everything becomes a competition, that is when it crosses the line.

Saturday 9!

Saturday 9: Kung Fu Fighting (1974)

On Saturdays I take a break from the heavy stuff and have some fun…

Unfamiliar with this week's tune? Hear it here. 

1) Have you ever taken a martial arts class? 

Nope, and I never had a desire to learn.

2) In this song, Carl Edwards sings about funky Chinatown. Many cities – including San Francisco, New York, Los Angeles, Chicago, Vancouver, London and Antwerp – have a Chinatown. Have you ever visited Chinatown?

New York when I was knee high to a grasshopper. And drove through Chinatown in San Francisco.

3) Many Chinese restaurants give out fortune cookies. Can you recall one of your fortunes?

No, I was probably around ten when I to New York’s Chinatown.

4) This week's featured artist, Carl Edwards, was born in Jamaica, spent his childhood in the US, and relocated to England. Have you ever lived abroad? 

Nope, I don’t care to.

5) In 1974 he became the first Jamaican to have a #1 hit in the US with this song. Have you been to Jamaica?

Nope. (A lot of “Nope’s” in today’s answers )

6) When this week's song was on the charts, ABC TV had a hit with the show Kung Fu. Today it's available to stream. Were you a fan?

Yeah… sadly. It was a really dumb show. And racism. Why didn't they use an Asian, the show was popular when Bruce Lee was making all of his moives.

7) Also in 1974, the FIFA World Cup was played in West Germany. Have you been following the FIFA World Cup this year?

No, but my niece and nephews went to one in New Jersey.

8) Two of 1974's most popular toys were popular with adults, too. Would you prefer a Rubik's Cube or a Magic 8 Ball?

The Magic 8 Ball, I could never do the Rubik’s Cube, it was so frustrating!

9) Random question: Have you ever cut someone else's hair?

Nope… like I said a lot of “nope” today.

---

I am up at the cottage and as usual the first time opening up for the season is always an adventure.

First… my cottage was inhabited when I got there. By squirrels. I know the guy. I bet you that it is the same squirrel that was eyeing the vent last fall.

The work I had done over the winter looks good. But there is one minor problem, the kitchen lights don’t work. Could Mr. Squirrel be the culprit?

I forgot to prop open the refrigerator doors and it got molding inside, it two hours to clean it.

The four hour drive did my back in. So my car is still packed. I am unloading the wicker basket and boxes a little at a time. But I did get my beach and dump pass. I went to the wrong window to pick it up and the guy was very gruff when he told me the other window… didn’t I see the sign “Pass Pick-Up”

Um, no. there were three women outside there talking and I can’t see any signs.

Saturday 9

Saturday 9: There'll Be Some Changes Made (1962)

On Saturdays I take a break from the heavy stuff and have some fun…

Unfamiliar with this week's tune? Hear it here.

1) In this song, Ann-Margret sings that she's going to change her way of living. If you could simply snap your fingers and change something in your life, what would it be?

My back… lower back is becoming chronic.

2) She tells us she's going to change her name. Have you ever changed your name, or asked people to refer to you differently? (Example: "Don't call me Betty anymore. I want to be Elizabeth.")

Ha… I got you all beat!

3) Ann-Margret was born Ann-Margret Olsson in Sweden and when was 5, her family moved to Winnetka, Illinois. She is fluent in both Swedish and English. When did you last converse in a language other than English?

Um… never. I don’t even know any other language than English.

4) Olivia Newton-John was a big Ann-Margret fan. When she was cast in the movie Grease, Olivia asked that her character's name be changed from "Sandy Dumbrowski" to "Sandy Olsson" in tribute. Grease is one of the most profitable movies ever made. Have you seen it more than once?

On a date I saw it when it first came out. And a couple of times on TV.

5) Ann-Margret celebrated her 85th birthday earlier this year. Back in 2024, Ann-Margret told a reporter that she planned to celebrate her 83rd birthday with a spin on her motorcycle, a lavender Harley-Davidson. "I love speed," she explained. Do you always observe the speed limit? Or have you been known to zip along a little faster?

I try not to go over 5 mph over the speed limit on local roads and no more than 75 on the interstates.

6) This week's song was written in 1921 and over the last 100+ years it's been recorded more than 400 times. Before today, had you heard it?

Nope… never.

7) The lyrics were written by William Weldon Higgins, who was better known as vaudeville comic Billy Higgins. When did you most recently laugh out loud?

I don’t usually mark down when I laugh… but it was recently.

8) The music was composed by William Overstreet. In addition to writing music, he was a respected director aat Chicago's Grand Theater. When did you last see a live performance (concert, play, etc.)?

A decade ago. I went to see a Broadway play on Saturday October 01, 2016, Beautiful: The Carole King Musical you can read about the trip here.

9) Random question: Do you have more or less than $20 cash in your wallet right now?

More.

---

What a wild and crazy day the Fourth of July was!

It all started in the morning when the central air went out. It was 95°F outside and getting hot fast inside—with no AC! Originally, I was 20th in line for a repairman, but then I played my ace card: I mentioned that I’m 77. Just like that, I moved up to first on the list! I hadn’t even planned on using my age, it just popped into my head, so I said it.

The real "fun" began three or four hours later. Around 7:00 PM, I was sitting under the deck overhang listening to my audiobook when it absolutely poured. It came down in buckets for about five seconds, and then the sun popped back out, sending me retreating indoors.

A bit later, I was in the atrium listening to my book again when the weather went totally insane. Extreme winds hit, hail started bouncing off the skylights, and stripped leaves blew past. It felt exactly like the opening scene of The Wizard of Oz. Branches flew by, the hail pounded, and then—in less than two minutes—it was completely over. The sun came back out and the birds started singing, looking just like an ordinary Saturday afternoon. Except for one thing: trees and limbs were down everywhere, and the power was dead.

The weather forecast had only predicted a slight chance of a severe storm, so it took everyone completely by surprise. It turned out to be a microburst with straight-line winds clocked at 60 to 70 mph.

Eversource initially promised the power would be back on by 6:00 AM Sunday. Instead, it finally kicked back on at 3:19 AM on Tuesday.

To charge my phone and survey the damage, I took a drive around town. The aftermath was textbook microburst: a linear path of destruction about a mile wide and three miles long. Everywhere outside of that strip was completely untouched and had power. At the end of my road where it meets the state highway, the top of a telephone pole was dangling from its wires just five feet above the asphalt. Looking both ways, trees were down in every direction. Trying to navigate my way to McDonald’s for breakfast and a hot coffee was like trying to get through a maze. Every single street was blocked by downed trees and live wires.

The repair process itself was fascinating to watch. First, an assessment guy walked the lines with a tablet. A few hours later, the tree crews arrived—I could hear the chainsaws and woodchippers roaring. Next came two full line crews. Optimistically, I guessed I'd have power back in an hour. (Ha! That was a bit conservative... try three days later!)

Now, the politicians are screaming about how long the cleanup took. But this literally came out of the blue. Unlike a hurricane, where you have days to preposition utility crews, everyone here was just sitting around a holiday cookout when—WHAM! They had to mobilize and bring in emergency workers from all over the Northeast.

Looking around today, just a week later, you wouldn’t have a single clue what happened last Saturday.

What a wild and crazy night!

When last I wrote on Facebook…

July 4, 7:22PM

That was interesting.

I was sitting outside on the deck under the overhang. Listening to my book And then it poured! I mean it came down in bucket for maybe 5 seconds, then the sun came out!

About 20 or 30 minutes later it started to pour and I decided it was time to retreat indoors.

But little did I know that a squall line moved through around 8:30 Saturday night.

It is insane! Extreme winds, hail bouncing off the skylights, leaves that were stripped from trees blew by. It was like the opening of the Wizard of Oz. I have a feeling that the storm caught them flat-footed. The storm warnings were just a slight chance of a severe storm, and it took everyone by surprise. It was all straight-line wind in a microburst. [News reports said the wind was 60 – 70mph!]

Then everything went dark and the power has been out ever since then. Eversource said that it would be on by 6:00 AM; well, it is 9:00 AM but still no power. They also report over 1,500 customers without power in town.

The refrigerator has to be emptied. At one in the morning, I finished the ice cream that was now chocolate milk. Everything has melted after 12 hours with no electricity. Usually, we are the first ones to get power back because we are on the main line for the southern side of town. But this time all the damage is localized, so right now all I hear are chainsaws and wood chippers.

Eversource Saturday 11:20 PM: We expect power to be restored by 07/05 06:00 AM.

Sunday morning

Eversource Sunday 7:10AM: We expect power to be restored by 07/05 03:00 PM. 

This morning I woke to the sound of generators. And of course, with no warning I had no time to charge anything, all the batteries are low and getting lower.

Eversource Sunday 3:09PM:  We expect power to be restored by 07/06 01:00 AM

Now they are saying that the power will be back on at 4:30.

I took a ride around town to charge my phone and see the damage, which is consistent with a microburst—it is linear, about a mile wide and about 3 miles long. Everywhere else there is no damage and they have power.

It is really interesting how they repaired the lines. They send an assessment team; he was walking around the downed line with a tablet. He was followed a couple of hours later by a tree crew. I could hear the chainsaws and the chipper. And there are two line crews working on it now. My guess is that I will have power back in an hour. [Ha… that was very conservative… 3 days later!]

Nope! 1:00 AM!

Monday morning

Eversource Monday 12:59AM:  We expect power to be restored by 07/06 12:00 PM.

Still no power… work to the sound of construction equipment all around.

Off to the seafood place!

Home with two containers of ice!

It is going to be an early night. No lights, no TV, no internet. And the big question of the night: When will the power comes on, will the internet also come back? Since the top of the telephone pole is broken off and suspended about 4 feet off the ground, is the cable still good? That is the question.

The new “in” thing for the suburbs: a generator! There are ones on either side of me plus one down the street purring away.

My tablet is down to 25%!

I just got another email… “Good news, all power will be back by Tuesday!” Um, I don't call that good news. I am still counting on their last time of 1:00 AM. So hopefully when I get up in the morning I will have power.

No hot water. Means no showers.

Down to 22%. Tick tock… how much longer? Is it good that they keep missing their deadlines? I am not frustrated; I realize that with this kind of disaster, you just can't tell what you’ll find when you actually start the repairing.

Down to 20%.

Isolation unplugged! No internet. No email. I have a Zoom meeting (I think, since I can't check my calendar) Friday. Batteries running down on everything.

18%

Two emails overnight. The first one said that the power will be back by noon today! Yay!!! The second email said by noon tomorrow… boo!

17%

You know, you don't realize how dependent you are on the internet.

I think that they are doing a fantastic job, but one area of improvement is to say when power is coming back on and then keep pushing it out... that is wrong. Instead, say that there is a lot of damage and we don't know yet and it could be a long time. If I knew that at the beginning, I would have taken some precautions like buying some ice.

I realize that they are under a lot of pressure to keep people informed, but let them know that it is bad! The first morning of the outage, in search of breakfast, I saw the telephone pole just laying there and lines down all up and down the street. I knew it was bad. Then I found all the side streets blocked with downed trees. When I finally got coffee and a doughnut, I drove around and saw all the damage. It was about a mile wide and a couple of miles long; it looked like a madman with a chainsaw cut the trees down.

What it reminded me of was an ice storm in the '60s that snapped the tops off of the trees; you can now see those trees a generation later. The same goes for the tornado that crossed I-84 just over the Massachusetts border. This will leave a scar like those.

As I'm writing this, a couple of utility trucks back down the street, I guess to tackle the downed pole.

I was getting terrified Saturday with the storm. I had just written on Facebook about a downpour that was so amazing when all hell broke loose.

12%

It looked like hurricane-force winds, and I know, I have been in a number of hurricanes. Hail was pounding the skylights, branches and leaves flew by, and then it was over. The sun was out, the birds were singing. Just like an ordinary Saturday afternoon. Except trees were down everywhere, no power.

So it is 8:35 Monday, still no power, so I'm going to get ready to go for breakfast and charge everything. The phone, tablet, and old phone with all my audiobooks.

1:45 PM, still no power, but trucks are working on the road just behind my house. So I've got my fingers crossed. I charged up my phone and book, but not the tablet, and it's now at 9%.

Looking at the outage map, I noticed that there are 3 distinct lines across the state. The one that my house is in starts up around Torrington and ends just south of me. You see that the outages—those 30 or 40 outages—are in a diagonal.

6:20 PM, still no power! I found my propane lantern and will be using the lantern.

Okay, are you ready for this? 11:45 PM Tuesday now!

Tuesday morning

Eversource Monday 7/6/2026, 2:29 AM: We expect power to be restored by 07/07 11:45 PM

Eversource Monday 7/6/2026, 3:49 AM: We believe the outage in the area of 57 VINEYARD DR has been restored around 07/07 03:19 AM . This outage impacted 1472 customer(s) and may have been caused by tree limbs contacting power lines. 

POWER IS BACK! 3:19 AM Tuesday.

No internet or cable, though. But hot water is back—oodles and oodles of hot water!

Now comes the wait for the cable people to fix the cable, and maybe drive around looking for a hotspot. I don't know what's worse… no power or no internet.

Waiting for the cable is harder.

10:50AM, the cable is back.

I'm Back!

Since 8:10PM Saturday when a microbrust happened... more later.

Power back was at 3:19 Tuesday, cable at 11:00AM

How They Ruined Milk

[Essay]

I’m a milk snob, I admit it. I like unhomogenized milk. First, I am not talking about raw milk or non-pasteurized milk. No, what I am talking about is milk that is pasteurized but not homogenized. You know, the kind with the cream floating on top, like they used to deliver in the old days… back when I was a kid.

The bottle would sit in a box on the front porch, and I would check it on my way home from school. I’d open the lid and hope for a bottle of chocolate milk! What changed, besides buying it at the grocery store now, is that all milk is uniform today. There are what, three or four major brands? And they all sell only homogenized milk.

To homogenize milk, they blast the cream through a nozzle that turns it into a fine mist. It becomes so fine that you can’t distinctively taste the cream in the milk anymore.

Fortunately, there is a farm store near me. They have a large orchard, but inside the store, they also sell produce from other local farms. Their milk comes from a farm up in the Litchfield Hills and is pasteurized. When I buy it, the cream sits right on top, so you just have to give it two shakes before pouring. That’s all it takes—two shakes. You can truly taste and feel the cream. It is richer and, well, creamier.

But nowadays, you have no choice unless you drive out of your way.

I also get thick-cut bacon from a local farm at this store. I grab their store-made cookies, like chocolate chip or oatmeal-raisin, and ice cream that also comes from the farms up in the Litchfield Hills. When corn is in season, I get it from a local stand, picked fresh that morning.

In my younger days, I used to hang out with friends who owned farms. Many times, I sat on a friend's back deck, picking off the woodchucks that were eating the corn. At another friend's place, I used to hang out at his roadside stand, chatting or watching a Red Sox game. That’s why I like shopping at farm stands. 

It supports local farmers rather than some giant conglomerate.

They made milk like they do with the ticky-tacky and uniform, the same, no differences... all homogenized. 

Oh, and one other thing. When you make hot chocolate with this milk and let it sit for a bit, the cream floats to the top. But it's chocolate cream! Mmm…

[/Essay]

Wow! Nineteen Years And Counting!

I was just thinking, “What a long, strange trip it’s been!”

I first went out as Diana… it was like, “Oh wow! I don’t believe that I’m doing this!” The year was 1999. The month was September. I contacted a support group…

At the end of the email, she told me when and where they met. I summoned all my courage and drove there.

And the place was empty… no lights except the motion detector. Oops — it was last weekend, the second weekend of the month! So I went to the October meeting… and for the first time in my life, I was with other trans people!

I became their activity director… then eventually the director.

I heard that there was another support group called the Twenty Club (their newsletters are archived here), and I started going — something to do on a Saturday afternoon. At one meeting, this girl came in and one side of her face was all swollen and bruised. She had been beaten up on a job site in Bridgeport. When the police didn’t arrest the people who beat her, she raised her voice — and she was arrested. That was when I became an activist.

I was at a Pride event in Hartford, next to Jerimarie at the CT TransAdvocacy Coalition. In between lulls in the Pride traffic, we talked. She told me about CTAC, and I became the director of it a few years later.

---

I’ve seen it all when it comes to transitioning.

I’ve seen those who rushed through it in months. I’ve seen those who hadn’t even socially transitioned demand surgery — and the surgeon said no. So she took a plane trip to Thailand. I never saw her again.

I’ve seen those who had a chip on their shoulder and were mad at the world.

I’ve seen those who were like me — transitioning part-time at first. I was male at work, and all the rest of the time I was Diana. Dipping a toe in the water to test it.

I’ve seen families disown their loved ones — and families reunite.

I’ve seen couples stay together. Couples break up over a transition. I’ve seen couples break up and then come back together again.

I’ve seen trans people change their orientation.

I’ve seen those who detransitioned — and some who retransitioned.

I have known some who were murdered. I have known succumb to the hate, 

---

I’ve worked to pass legislation. I’ve given trainings in colleges. I’ve given trainings in maximum-security prisons. I am now working to help end social isolation for seniors.

The Ninetieth Year

June 29, 2007 @ 11:00AM I transitioned. (How do I know the time? That was when I got layoff)

I can say it with certainly has been a long strange trip.

Any regrets? Nope not a one.

Back when I was starting to realize that I could transition and still survive I wrote this...

Trans-

I look in the mirror and I see a man.

I blink, and I see a woman.

But, I am I.

I don’t feel any different.

How can I be both?

Can both survive?

Will one have to be destroyed, in order for the other to live?

Will I still be me?

And in these 19 year I have found the answer... yes.

---

I wrote this back in August, so I hope that I am around to read this.

Hun?

So I have been getting 3 or 4 calls a day from something that the caller ID said "PCH" so after a week of getting "PCH" the only thing that I could thing of was "Publisher Clearing House... but I thought that they went under. So my curiosity got the better of me.

Well it turns out that they say it is an organization that collecting money for police that are victims of assault. But Guide Star didn't have any non-profit by PCH name.

When I searched on the internet, I got:

That opening line is a very common script used in fundraising pitches, especially ones tied to law-enforcement-themed charities—and also by a fair number of questionable or outright scam operations.

A pitch starting with something like “the growing number of assaults on police officers…” is designed to:

• create urgency
• trigger sympathy for officers
• reduce skepticism before asking for money

What it could be

In Connecticut and elsewhere, that wording is often used by groups claiming to support things like:

• local “police support funds”
• officer injury/benefit funds
• police union–adjacent charities (sometimes loosely connected to groups like the Fraternal Order of Police or similar associations)
• “fallen officer” or “public safety” foundations

Why it raises suspicion

That exact style of pitch is also heavily used by bogus telemarketers and door-to-door fundraisers, because:

• it sounds official without naming a specific organization
• it avoids verifiable details early in the conversation
• it leans on a real-world concern (attacks on officers) to build credibility

Quick way to judge what you were dealing with

If you remember anything else, these details matter a lot:

More likely legitimate if:

• they gave a specific organization name (not just “police fund”)
• they provided a mailing address in Connecticut
• they offered a website ending in a known org domain (.org tied to a real group)
• they didn’t pressure you for immediate payment

More likely a scam if:

• it was vague (“support our officers fund”)
• they pushed urgency or guilt
• they asked for gift cards, cash apps, or instant payment
• they refused to clearly identify the department or charity registration

Bottom line
That opening line alone doesn’t confirm legitimacy—it’s a standard emotional hook used by both real fundraisers and scams. In practice, most complaints about “police fund” solicitations come from unaffiliated telemarketing outfits using law-enforcement themes, not actual police departments.

So what out! It maybe a scam!

Dad's Story

June 6th: D-Day and Dad’s Day

Thanks to history, I could never forget my dad’s birthday.

As I look back on his life and mine, I see the stages we went through as I grew up. Like most boys, it was a bit of a "love/hate" relationship—the teenage years were rather rebellious. I think that was also partly due to his own youth.

Being Italian back in the 20s, 30s, 40s, and even into the 50s carried a heavy burden. For summer jobs, they dug ditches (more on that later). Before WWII, my father, being the oldest, went to college. He was the first in the family! He attended RPI and earned a degree in Civil Engineering. Afterward, his brothers and cousins went into home construction. While in college, my father was also in ROTC.

Then came the Great Depression. He and his brother used to joke about how my father talked them into joining the National Guard during the Depression just for some extra cash. But then WWII happened, and guess who got called up first?

At the beginning of the war, he was stationed in Coastal Defense to guard against German submarines, before being sent to Key West to defend the harbor. After V-E Day, he went to the Pacific theater with an anti-aircraft unit. Then the Army made a discovery: he had a Bachelor of Science in Civil Engineering! They promoted him and put him in charge of rebuilding the Manila water and sewer systems.

(An aside for one of my pet peeves: What military units landed on Iwo Jima? A: The Marines. B: The Army. C: Both. The correct answer is “C,” both! But you never hear about the Army landing on Iwo Jima; it is always "John Wayne!" Toward the end of the campaign, the 147th Infantry Regiment—an independent unit from the Ohio National Guard—was assigned to the "mopping up" operations. Thousands of Japanese soldiers were still hidden in the island’s massive 11-mile tunnel network. The 147th spent months in intense, small-unit underground combat, using flamethrowers and satchel charges to clear the caves.)

After the war, he returned to Connecticut and climbed the ranks in education: teacher, then assistant principal, then principal. Eventually, he became the head of the state technical colleges.

I later attended Waterbury State Technical College. Only one person there knew who I was: the president of the college. I was the son of the boss of bosses! Then one day, just before my graduation, there was a knock on my classroom door. The professor turned and saw my father, immediately assuming he was there to see him in his capacity as the head of the professors' union.

Instead, my father said, “No, I’m here to see my son. My car broke down and I need a ride home.”

The professor looked at me, then back at my father, and I could practically see the gears turning as he put two and two together.

After I graduated, I went on to RIT for my four-year degree. My father retired the exact year I graduated from college—but just like me, he didn't truly retire. He worked as a consultant, advising other states on how to create two-year technical colleges, and wrote articles for trade magazines. He even became the head of the American Vocational Technical Association and stayed active in the Kiwanis. And, of course, there was travel!

I lived with my parents until I was in my forties, but there was a catch. The year my father retired and I graduated from RIT, they bought a summer cottage on a lake in New Hampshire. During the summers they were at the cottage, and in the winter they went to Florida. They were only home during November, December, March, and April. The rest of the time, I had the house to myself.

It was when I was building my own house that we truly bonded. I had the "great idea" of acting as my own general contractor—after all, I came from a home-building family! Yeah, right... but they didn't have a regular 40-hour-a-week job to balance at the same time!

When I was building the retaining wall, my father was right there giving me instructions. When I was laying brick and floor tiles in the basement, he was there too—sitting in a lawn chair, drinking his Bourbon Manhattan, calling out, “No, no, that tile is out of line,” or “that brick is low.” Those are the fondest memories I have of him.

(I actually got into a very heated argument with my brother over laying tile once! It was so heated that I left the cottage in the boat just to drive around and cool down. The argument was over whether to “butter” each tile one at a time, or put the thin-set mortar on the floor and do a whole section at once. After I did it my way, he admitted it was faster. I replied, "Of course it is—that’s how Dad taught me!")

I also remember getting a phone call at 7:00 AM right before rushing off to work. My mother said, “Your father is having chest pains.” I told her to call an ambulance, but she replied, "No, he wants you to take him. What would the neighbors think?"

Then there was the Saturday morning I got a call from my mother saying, "Come over and tell your father to stop chopping wood! He is 90 and he’s going to have another heart attack!" I told her, "Mom, he is doing what he wants to do. It makes him happy." I ended up chopping the wood that Saturday while we sat and talked.

A few years passed, my mother passed away, and the spark went out in my father. He passed away a few years later from an old folks' disease: aspiration pneumonia.

I carried an extra burden that he never knew about, something that cried me to sleep at night. He never knew I was trans, and I always wondered how he would have felt if he had known. Everyone tells me he would have been very accepting.

I remember.

There are times when your life takes a turn, and you can look back and see how a single word changed everything.

The first turn:
I had been seeing the handwriting on the wall. When you work for a company that is going down the tubes, you can see it coming. My boss, the head engineer, was leaving, so I gave him my resume. For nearly the next 30 years, I worked at that next company—until it was sold, and the new buyers didn't want us.

The second turn:
In 2006, we were heading back from a hearing on the gender-inclusive non-discrimination bill, and we all went out to eat at the Wood & Tap in Hartford. There was Jerimarie, Amy, and one other person. I mentioned that they were closing the company where I worked and that I was looking for a career change. Amy suggested social work. I said, "I’m not a people person. I couldn't just sit there and listen to other people's problems, I’d be right there crying with them!"

Amy replied that she was a social worker... a community organizer.

In 2007, I was laid off and I transitioned!

A couple of days later, I was picking up the mail for a support group that I ran, and there was a flyer from the University of Connecticut’s School of Social Work. It described a program where you could take non-matriculated classes; if you did well and liked it, you could transfer your credits over to a degree program.

In 2011—the very same year the gender-inclusive non-discrimination law was passed—I got my MSW.

 

 

DEI

Or is it DIE? “Die” feels more fitting with the way the Trump administration is attacking our community. When I used to do diversity training I used to use the case of Lynn Conway. I first found out about her back around 2005, when things were slow at work, I started looking up the old computers I’d worked on, IBM 1620, IBM 360, PDP-8, and so on. I came across an article about the IBM 360 and something called dynamic instruction scheduling. Huh. It described how one engineer helped develop the idea, but then work got in the way of my curiosity.

A couple of months later, I remembered the article and went back to it. This time I noticed it was about a woman. That caught my attention.

Being trans, my radar went off—beep, beep.

I found her university webpage; she was a Professor Emeritus. I learned that when she transitioned, she was asked to leave IBM... she didn’t fit the “flat-top haircut, thin blue tie, blue sports jacket with a white shirt and a pocket protector” mold.

IBM’s loss was significant. She went on to become a leader in integrated circuit design, worked with DARPA, and later received the IEEE Computer Society’s Computer Pioneer Award for her foundational contributions to computer architecture and VLSI design.

When I taught diversity, I used her story as an example: IBM let go of a highly talented engineer because she was trans—it was our gain and IBM loss.

My Personal Statement

Back when I was applying to grad school, I had to write a personal statement about why I was to become social worker for UConn School of Social Work.

So this is what I wrote:

My Personal Statement

About six years ago, I came out as a transsexual after denying it for most of my life. I hid this part of my life from all of my family and friends.  Over time, the pressure from keeping this secret grew inside of me.  I knew that I needed to make a decision which would rectify this internal discord. As part of this journey into self acceptance, I joined a transgender support group - the Connecticut Outreach Society. With the help of its members, I began going out into the public as Diana.  I also became more involved with the group – attending their Board meetings and taking part in outreaches at colleges and universities throughout Connecticut.

Because of my interest and involvement, the Board asked me to become the    Program Director for Connecticut Outreach Society.  I accepted and eventually assumed the role of Executive Director. As Director, I have had to interface with other Gay, Lesbian, Bi-sexual and Transsexual (GLBT) organizations both locally and nationally. One of these groups was True Colors in Manchester.  I assisted with their conferences and took part in panel discussions sponsored by True Colors.

The Policy and Procedures concentration relates with my personal goals in that I am now involved with the coalition which is lobbing for the inclusion of Gender and Gender Expression into the current Anti-discrimination statue in Connecticut. As a Board member of the Connecticut TransAdvocacy Coalition (CTAC), I am involved with trying to change the current regulations which govern Birth Certificates.  This change in regulations would allow for gender indicated on a Birth Certificate to reflect the individual’s gender identity without having surgery. Through the Connecticut TransAdvocacy Coalition (CTAC), we are working to make homeless shelters more Trans friendly.  Through the Connecticut Women Education and Legal Fund, we are implementing a health assessment for the Trans community - using a student volunteer.

The University’s Mission Statement fits well into my goals of wanting to bring about social change and equality to the marginized GLBT community. As I stated previously, I am a volunteer with the Connecticut TransAdvocacy Coalition (CTAC) and part of my work with CTAC is assisting individuals in the transgender community with housing, legal, medical and employment issues. In trying to pass legislation to have Gender and Gender Expression added to the state’s Anti-Discrimination Statues, I have lobbied my state representatives to bring about those changes.  I also volunteered this past summer and fall for the Lamont Senatorial campaign.

Currently, I am on the Advisory Committee for a Trans Health and Legal Conference which will be held this coming spring (2007) at the University of Connecticut Medical Center in Farmington. The volunteer work that I do for True Colors has taught me how to work with youth from a diverse racial and social background.  The True Colors conference has also intensified my organizational skills. Through the public speaking engagements that I have performed on behalf of the Connecticut Outreach Society at the various universities and colleges throughout Connecticut, I have increased my public speaking skills as well.

As I become more involved with the GLBT community, the more I understand the need to help overcome the discrimination that I personally felt and saw around me. I have seen families break up; friends lose their jobs after coming out to their employers and I saw a support group member evicted from their apartment – all because they were transgender.  I know first hand what it is like to be laughed at and made to feel like a freak. I know someone who tried to commit suicide and I knew someone who succeeded.  I know someone who had been physically abused by her father because she was not “manly enough” - she had to run away from home.  She had to work the streets to survive and was arrested and then beaten by the police. She then fled north to Connecticut and was homeless because there were no women’s or men’s shelters that would let her in. Now, she is living at the YWCA and has one of the brightest personalities that I have seen.

I have seen the difficulties that the transgender African-Americans and Hispanics endure due to their cultures. I know people who have AIDS/HIV and I have seen how they have had to cope with their disease.

The more I saw the emotional, physical and psychological struggles within the transgender community, the more I felt the need to try to make changes that could over come these injustices while making a better life for the next generation. The volunteer work I do now is only a beginning - but I want to be able to do more.  I feel that having a Masters degree in Social Work will help me achieve these goals.

I came from a white middle class background and it was hard for me to breakout of that mold. I had never interacted with any African-Americans, Hispanics and homeless and it took quite an effort to over come any indifference. By volunteering at True Colors worked together with queer youth and other individuals who were not from a white middle class background, it helped me over come those prejudices.

As a shy person, I must force myself to meet new people. The volunteer work I did with the Lamont campaign allowed me to meet many new people all on my own. I was the only transperson that was working in the West Hartford office.  This forced me to either overcoming my shyness so that I could interact with others or else sit in a corner by myself throughout the campaign.  In addition, going out into the public as Diana was a very fast way to become immersed in new life experiences -- it was either sink or swim.

The outreach that I do helps me in overcoming my fear of public speaking while building my self-confidence.  For example, one particular speaking engagement I had with True Colors at Central Connecticut State College (CCSU) had an audience of approximately two hundred students, professors and Department of Children and Family (DCF) employees.

I feel that what I have learned since I have come out reflects the Code of Ethics of the National Association of Social Workers (NASW). One of my lessons learned includes to value diversity.  I have learned to look beyond the color of a person’s skin; to look beyond if they are rich or poor or whether they are from the suburbs or the inner city.  I have looked within the person - to see their full potential. Before I came out, I lived in fear and shame. I was afraid that someone would find out about my great secret and my self-worth suffered accordingly.  In coming out, I leaned self-acceptance and in gaining this acceptance came empowerment. This has become a valuable tool in which to help others.  Self-acceptance allows one to not only believe in themselves but that all things are possible – even social change and social justice.  I think the Reverend Jesse Jackson said it best in his poem “I am Somebody”-- we are all somebody and we can never forget that.

Merry Christmas

Peace On Earth and Goodwill To All

Earthrise (NASW Photo) Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter (LRO).

It this time of year that we reflect on all that has happened this past year and to give thanks. However, for many it is not a time to rejoice, it is a time of loneliness, their families may have moved and left them behind, their family or spouse might have pasted away leaving them without any close relatives or their children might be at their in-laws for this holiday, for whatever the reason, it is a lonely time.

But for many in the LGBT community it is an especially lonely time,

they might not have seen their family since they came out to them. Their families and children have disowned them. Sometimes when we do attend the gathering, we feel like outcasts, like the square peg in the round hole, we just don’t fit in, we are tolerated when we bring our partners or ourselves to the table.

So let us open our hearts and doors to them and think of them this holiday season, give them a call, have a Zoom get-together or drop them a Christmas card, let them know that they are remembered.

For me I am going to be with my family down in New Jersey this weekend.

And I added this song to by Joni Mitchell - River all of you who are with your chosen family...

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American traditional songs...

And a cute little video...

I Remember Mama!

On this day in 2002, my mother passed away.

I remember a comment she made at Thanksgiving. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but a few weeks later she passed away from a UTI that became septic.

All of her great-grandchildren were at our house that day. It was my brother and me, all of the grandchildren, and all of the great-grandchildren. I was sitting next to my mother, watching the great-grandchildren play on the floor while the grandchildren were getting dinner ready.

I was sitting there with my brother and his wife when my mother said, “My life is complete.”

Three weeks later, she passed away. I believe she had let go. She was happy to see all of us together as a family, and she felt satisfied with her life. It felt as though, for her, it was time to go.

Editorial: It Is Their Decision.

[Editorial]

I recently read about someone who chose to detransition. And it brought to mind many of the lessons I’ve gathered over the years.

I’ve been on this road a long time. I came out in 1999, found my way to the Connecticut Outreach Society, and in time became one of its officers. I sat in the circle at Twenty Club meetings, listened, learned, and eventually made my way to the Gender Identity Clinic of New England. I got my papers in 2004, and by 2007, I had completed my own transition.

Over all those years, one truth settled into my bones: gender is a spectrum, and each of us walks our path at the pace that’s right for us. Some feel the need to transition immediately; others, like me, take our time, feeling our way forward step by steady step.

I’ve heard every kind of story along the way—some unexpected, some tender, some difficult. I’ve met people who were turned away from clinics for this reason or that. One woman demanded everything now, and when the clinic declined, she packed her bags for Thailand. People find their routes in all sorts of ways.

And yes, I’ve known those who detransitioned. They did so for many reasons. A few realized it was the right choice for them. Some simply couldn’t make ends meet—one woman couldn’t find a job and had to return to her parents’ home. Two later found their way back and retransitioned. One was simply ahead of her time: she transitioned early, faced a world not yet ready for her, and later, when the climate had changed, she stepped forward again.

But across all these stories, there’s a thread that binds them. Every one of them picked up their life and carried on. They didn’t linger in bitterness. They didn’t let themselves be used as symbols by those who misunderstand or oppose us. They didn’t tear down others walking this path.

They simply gathered their pieces, held their heads high, and moved forward.

There’s wisdom in that, I think.

[/Editorial]

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Today is the Transgender Day of Remembrance, the past I have post the list of names, it take a heavy toll on us. So I just post a link to the list here.

 

This is from a TDOR march to the capitol to read the names, it is circa 2005

 

Life On A Sandbar

Flocks of tourists descend upon New England for the foliage—the reds and yellows. But not to Cape Cod. You would never know it is fall with all the pine barrens; the oaks just dry up and turn brown.

Dried brown leaves litter the trails along with dried pine needles, making the classic rustling sound as you walk. Then we have the invasive species—the black locust exists in scattered patches across the Cape and whose leaves only turn yellowish brown.

The crisp, dry air makes it ideal for sitting around a firepit outside, reading with no biting insects!

But next weekend, the craziness is back for the three-day weekend, though nowhere near the summer levels. The three-day Indigenous Peoples' Weekend brings an inrush. The following weekend is Wellfleet's Oyster Fest!

Then, two weeks after that, it's time to pack everything up and get ready to close it up for the winter and the elections.