Willie was a beautiful young boy, and I loved him. Not that I knew that or understood it at the time. Willie Fox and I attended parochial elementary school together in Seaford, NY, and sang in the church’s children’s choir. I think we became fast friends — best friends —…

Story 4 — Pop, My Gentle Father I suppose my earliest memories of my father are of him sitting in the den, in his arm chair in the evenings, with me cuddled between his legs, and him gently stroking my chest and belly with his fingertips. Before you get the…

What if Mr. Right, Isn’t? — In 2011, my 83-year-old father, a prince of a man to anyone you might ask, lost his balance getting out of bed one morning, and struck his head against his chest of drawers; hard enough, it turned out, to cause a brain bleed. Though he was transported to the closest…

How I’m NOT coping with this Shit-Show called “The New Normal” — The wonderful people who follow me at Medium.com and Prism & Pen may have noticed that I haven’t been producing anything lately. In fact, I shouldn’t even be producing this; I have a paper due for a management course I had to take for my job. I should really be…

Return to sender — When I married my ex-wife at 23, I was still a virgin, as far as heterosexual love goes. Having always been socially awkward and anxious, I hadn’t dated much. In spite of having lots of attraction to guys, I fell in love with this girl, got married, had kids, the whole shebang. …

My Queer Family Started Later in Life — I’m floating in a tiny inflatable raft just off the coast of Florida. A yacht full of modern-day pirates transporting illegal drugs firing automatic weapons is barreling towards me. I’m being circled by hungry reef sharks who menace my flimsy raft with their carnivorous teeth every so often. The sky…

A tale of rocks, slurs, and needful apologies — Everyone is special. We are each unique, or as B.J. Thomas sang (and who doesn’t like B.J.s?), “Everyone is beautiful in their own way.” Growing up, I was “special,” which is to say different. Weird. I didn’t really get it then, but I was gay. …

I wish I knew how to tell you you’re welcome in my part of the family — My sister married a guy who turned out to be a jerk. Like me, he was a veteran. Like me, he pursued a degree after separating from active duty. So not all bad. Also like me, he has his issues. …

When will my reflection show who I am inside? — Okay, show of hands! Raise your hand if everybody at school knew you were queer before you did. Ah, okay, I see some hands… mine’s up too. During summers, I remember spending more time in the locker room than in the pool at our local park, fascinated by all the…