Saturday, January 18, 2025, 12:00 – 3:00 PM
Goodale Park, 120 W. Goodale St., Columbus - march to the Ohio Statehouse at 1pm
This is our time. Our time to make it clear: we will not be pushed aside, ignored, or silenced. On January 18, we march together—as women, as LGBTQIA+ individuals, as BIPOC communities, as immigrants, as allies. We stand united to demand a world where equality is not a threat, but a reality.   

Facebook Event 

The negotiations in Doha involving the United States, Israel, Hamas, Egypt and Qatar remind me of Frank Sinatra’s query “Is it an earthquake or only a shock?, is it a good turtle soup or only a mock?” Given the history of the various Middle Eastern peace proposals of one kind or another that have briefly raised their heads only to die ingloriously, it would perhaps be wise to consider the latest Israel-Gaza ceasefire, originally due to start on Sunday, to be, like Sinatra’s soup, a work in progress. And maybe not even really in progress due to likely hidden agendas and understandings that might run counter to what is being put down on paper.

A dramatic escape was cited by Israeli media as the reason that Yuval Vagdani, a soldier in the Israeli army, managed to escape justice in Brazil.

Dad called them pillow parties.

I was 16 or 17 when he brought it up, once, over dinner. Mom, Dad, my little brother, and I were watching TV. “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” was a thing then, and 60 Minutes was asking and telling plenty. It made me uncomfortable. I wasn’t out to my family. I was barely out to myself.

Dad, an ex-Marine, wasn’t helping. He hated the thought of a gay man serving in the military. When the segment ended, he muted the TV to make sure we could hear him clearly.

“You know what we used to do with ‘em?” It was rhetorical. He continued before we could answer. “We’d throw pillow parties for ‘em.”

He explained: pillowcases, heavy rocks, a group of Marines, and an unsuspecting, suspected gay man asleep in the barracks. A bruised bedtime story. A sadistic Semper Fi sleepover. A pillow party. And if you want to see such hate in action, watch Stanley Kubrick’s Vietnam War movie “Full Metal Jacket.”

Great family dinner conversation, Dad. Pass the potatoes.