Left to my own devices

Our Pic of the Week is none other than British diver Jack Laugher. Hoping to see Jack at this summer's Rio Olympic games!

The dreams came one night after the other. They were like a replay of a horrible situation, made worse by the altered reality so common to the dream state. It was a few years ago, some time after my friend Tracy had committed suicide in December 2004. A range of emotions occurred after his passing, from guilt, to sadness, to anger, back to sadness. Finally, an inevitable calm upon the psyche's realization that the event happened, Tracy was dead, and there was nothing that could be done about it. And yet... The first night, in the dream, Tracy was a ghost. Or at least he had the stereotypical ghostly qualities: an almost transparent, soft-white luminescence that took his form. I found myself next to his house, over by the back door. I heard a soft whimpering, like the kind you hear in a horror movie before a spook suddenly bursts onto the scene. Sure, enough, here came Tracy, passing through the back door, down the steps and over to the garage. I called out to him, "

Those who know me, or are long-time readers of this blog, know my high school story. Graduated in 1994, spent the last semester learning via home bound education because of the incessant bullying (some of it due to my sexuality), and I didn't attend the graduation ceremony because, frankly, I was done with it all, and did not feel comfortable going back to the school. That was a pretty low time in my life. Later that year (December of '94 to be exact), I turned 19 and was legally able to go to bars in Champaign. The night of my nineteenth birthday I went to Chester Street Dance Club, a local gay night club, and ended up spending many weekends there over the next few years. While time spent at C-Street contained a fair amount of the drama and tumult one would expect when a bunch of gays and lesbians get together, it's fair to say that it served as a wondrous haven and safe space where one could just be comfortable within their own skin. I cannot over-express the

'These 35 Celebrities Support Donald Trump!' the headline read. Yes, it was click bait. Yes, I clicked on it. No, I didn't read the whole thing. Does it really matter which famous people support Trump for president? Probably not. A cursory perusal of the first few names on the list informed me that actor Charlie Sheen is (supposedly) on board the Trump train. This is about as shocking -- and meaningful -- as lefty actor/producer/director Rob Reiner supporting Hillary Clinton. The fact of the matter is, most folks who identify as conservative/Republican will likely vote for the GOP nominee for president come November. Those who identify as liberal/Democrat will likely opt for the Democratic nominee. Some will sit it out. Others will vote third party. Between now and then, we can be sure that opinions will be espoused, arguments will be had and feelings will be hurt. So it goes. This isn't to make light of the seriousness of politics. Make no mistake: politi