CARL REINER R.I.P.

I didn't know him personally, but he's been a presence in my life since he was part of the ensemble of writer/performers on Sid Caesar's YOUR SHOW OF SHOWS on 1950s TV and on comedy records with Mel Brooks in the 1960s. He kept his sense and his sense of humor for his 98 years, who could ask for anything more. Condolences to his family, friends, and fans, especially his daughter, Annie, a friend to me in my L.A. years and a fine poet. Here's some lines from her poem "Weightless" that make a perfect epitaph, I think, for her father:

"Forget history

and all your past accomplishments.

Forget your failures.

The memory of the race will find you.

When you hear it you'll know

the whole thing is just a poem."

—Annie Reiner 

MORE PRIDE

"Don't forget the "B" in LGBTQ+, even though all the way back in 1972 I didn't like the term because it implied two kinds of romantic and sexual relationships when my experience is there are as many kinds of romantic and sexual relationships as there are humans, and even as many kinds of romantic and sexual relationships with one person as there are days and nights in that relationship. Like a lot of young people now, I prefer the term Queer and always have. But even so, let's not forget or neglect those who are categorized under the "B" along with the LGTQ+" —Michael Lally

PRIDE

In March 1972, I "came out" to myself and the world, and as an ally and activist with the Gay Liberation Front in DC (just in time for the first Gay Pride march) where members of the collective known as Skyline Faggots were at the forefront and were an inspiration to me. This is a photo of them at that time, in the back row: Will, Tim, and Ted, and in front another Tim and Michael. I was closer to some than others, and Michael Sun Bear Ferri I'm still in touch with, but they all (along with a few others including Jimmy Fourrat, Bobby Miller, and the late Ed Cox) helped change my life forever. These were some of the brave pioneers of Gay Pride.

NEW FAVORITE INTERNET MEME

RESPECT

Me at 23, with my mother (who I adored), and my father in April 1966 (two months after I got out of four years in the military, and only weeks before she passed) in front of their house where I grew up. It's on a hill so I wasn't as tall in relation to my father as it looks. But look at her smile, and she was in much more pain than even we knew! I miss her everyday, and have made my peace with him and come to respect him in the forty-three years since he passed.

PEAKY DAD

Been rewatching PEAKY BLINDERS and it's better than the first time. It always makes me think of my father, who was in his twenties in the 1920s. Here's a shot of him (in the white pants) and a pal from that decade.

GREAT QUOTE