This weekend, I am going to the house where I grew up for the last time before our family sells it. I have been surprised at the depth of my feelings of loss. I wonder how much my experience of growing up queer there intensifies the transition.
The house is a brick colonial in Rust Belt suburbia, on a street canopied by maple trees. A great place to be a kid, wearing whirligig maple keys on the end of your nose. Not such a great place to be, shall we say, a righteous babe.
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I’m so excited to be a new regular contributor to excellent LGBTQ blog 
19 years ago today, we lost one of the funniest, most present and memorable people ever to show up on this earth… Long live Richard Hunt! 
I can’t “Count” how pleased I am with Jerry Nelson’s recent shoutout in an interview with Ryan Dosier’s 
