The Conservative Logic of Gay Marriage

If you feel queezy about homosexuality, my sympathy. We have all been raised in a culture that identifies homosexuality as a defect if not a sin. It would be dishonest if we were to pretend that we can escape our socialization but we can rely on reason for reflection.

On occasion of New Hampshire domestic partnership law, let me share a short syllogism about the conservative point of view. Continue reading “The Conservative Logic of Gay Marriage”

May I have this dance?

I couldn’t believe I was finally old enough to attend my first church dance! I had waited months for this! I’d turned twelve in May, and the first dance after that happened to be a stake Halloween dance. I decided I’d go as a gypsy that year. My mom helped me to apply dark skin makeup, eyeshadow, and fake eyelashes. She loaned me long necklaces and bracelets and a colorful skirt that was perfect for my costume. I put on a scoop-necked white peasant blouse, and a black wig…

But when I stood in the mirror, something wasn’t quite right. It wasn’t that I was too blonde or fair to be a gypsy; we’d already fixed that with the dark makeup and wig. We stood there looking at me, when suddenly Mom snapped her fingers and left the room fast.

Soon she returned with one of her bras in hand. “Mo-oooom! No. Way. NO. I am NOT wearing that thing! It’s HUGE!Continue reading “May I have this dance?”

ex-Mormon vs. post-Mormon vs. DAMU

What’s in a name? 😉

Back when I wrote my handy guide to different types of Mormons I claimed that ex-Mormon and post-Mormon are just two words for the same thing. Since then, many people have told me that there’s a real difference between the two, namely that an ex-Mormon is someone who is angry and/or recovering whereas a post-Mormon is someone who has moved on. Continue reading “ex-Mormon vs. post-Mormon vs. DAMU”


My mother is 77 (let’s say it all together..) “bless her heart”. She has severe senile dementia, congestive heart failure and is a breast cancer survivor. She is, in a nutshell, A Survivor.

She has also reverted back to that state of a child where she’s lost certain social proprieties that have heretofore been an integral part of who she is. Either that, or she knows she can get away with it. I’m leaning toward the latter. Once, a nurse accidentally hurt her, and my mother referred to her as a ‘fat cow’ as she left the room. I scolded her, saying, “Mom, that isn’t nice!” She replied, louder of course, “I don’t care, she’s a FAT COW!” Sigh. Continue reading “Stinker”

Strong Like Water

stronglikewater2.jpgby Robert Hodgson Van Wagoner

The same week Karmine discovers her husband is having an affair with a man, she takes her mother to a doctor, who finds a tiny patch of cancer on the tip of the old woman’s nose. Abby, Karmine’s seventy-five-year-old mother, cannot be convinced she has not contracted the malignancy from her late neighbor, a young woman stricken with lymphoma, who regularly, at the conclusion of Abby’s visits, kissed the old woman on the nose. Abby’s little spot is a garden variety cancer, the result of too many years’ unprotected exposure to the sun, years and years of wear; its removal requires but a small operation and the maintenance of a periodic check-up. All the same, Abby is sure she’s caught lymphoma from kissing. She is convinced she will shortly die. “You’re not going to die,” Karmine says. “There’s nothing fatal about a tiny spot on the end of your nose.” It is snowing hard—icy flakes click softly against the windshield. It is the sound, Karmine imagines, of parakeet feet, unnumbered parakeet feet, walking on glass. She turns the wipers to the highest speed. The blades rush back and forth, and though Karmine doesn’t entirely realize what is happening, the vigorous back and forth, this motion of winding a watch, has begun to stiffen her neck. Continue reading “Strong Like Water”