Old Gay Man

I have begun to despair at how much my life has become a cliché of decrepitude. I just had surgery...

I want to explain why Black Pride is essential to our community’s health. As a white person, I probably have...

In the mid ’80s, I lived in Houston with two cats, two dogs, two enormous koi, and a lover, as...

I’m writing this a few days before another birthday in the month of Pride. As always, I ruminate senility’s question:...

Were you a 97-lb. pencil-necked bag of bones? When you went on the beach, did bullies with massive pecs kick...

In the mid ’80s, I spent two miserable years editing a gigantic, regional home and garden magazine in Houston, Texas....

When I was a young homo of eight years old, the woman across the street scooped me up and took...

Bad news for old people: fascism is arriving before you die I used to tell friends that a short-term future...

I’ve written a restaurant dining column for Creative Loafing, “Grazing,” for more than 30 years. For most of that time,...

In 1970, my friend Dina and I met up around midnight at the Majestic Diner. I had talked my father...