Putting Out The Trash and the Fear of No I.D.

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Last Wednesday evening I engaged in my “favorite” weekly Wednesday night ritual of placing my trash, recycling, and yard waste bins on the curb in front of my house. Our neighborhood waste management provider picks up all of the aforementioned every Thursday morning, and because I am a huge fan of not having things that smell or attract the local wildlife hanging out on the side of my house I tend to be pretty on it when it comes to making sure my bins are out and ready for disposal. So I’m in my house, breaking down some small boxes, bagging up cans in recyclable paper bags, and preparing to place said items in my recycling bin when I instinctively began patting myself down. A brief moment of panic set in as I realized one of my biggest fears was facing me head on:

I was about to go outside without my wallet.

I quickly rushed over to the front of my house, to the mail sorting tower where I place my keys and wallet as I walk in the door after work every night, and quickly grabbed my “Bad Mother F——-” wallet from the top shelf. As I slid the hand-stitched brown leather billfold into my hip pocket I felt my anxiety rapidly subsiding. I was relieved; it was a whole body relief, the kind that allows your shoulders to lower and the tension in your neck to release. That relief however was quickly replaced with a feeling, a notion, a learned behavior that has stuck with me since I got my first state-licensed identification card.

I am deathly afraid of going outside of my house without identification.

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"Good Old Boys": An Episode of Revisionist History

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Revisionist History logo. ©2019 Pushkin Industries. All Rights Reserved.

Revisionist History logo. ©2019 Pushkin Industries. All Rights Reserved.

Last week's episode of Malcolm Gladwell’s podcast, Revisionist History, is…interesting. It's such a snapshot of how nothing has really changed in the United States and how these conversations about racism and white supremacy have only slightly progressed. With that said, this episode does a good job of touching on while it may seem daunting that these conversations need to keep happening because they are the only way to make sure we address white supremacy and call supremacists and bigots out for their actions, words, and behaviors. The blurb:

If you disagree with someone — if you find what they think appalling — is there any value in talking to them? In the early 1970s, the talk show host Dick Cavett, the governor of Georgia Lester Maddox, and the singer Randy Newman tried to answer this question.

You can listen to it here.

Caution: the word “nigger” is used throughout the podcast by white folx. While it is within the context of the narrative Gladwell is constructing here, and used within a certain historical context, it is still said by white folx as a racist term and as part of the discussion of the comfort and discomfort of spewing racist words and phrases.


I Went to Lake Oswego. I'm Not Gonna Go Back to Lake Oswego.

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So folx who follow my work and exploits via this website or social media know that I spent the bulk of the afternoon of Saturday, June 22, 2019, in Lake Oswego, Oregon, at the 2019 Lake Oswego Festival of the Arts. I was invited by Andréa Gilroy and Katie Pryde, the awesome exhibit and content curators of this year’s event, to take part in a panel with five other comic creators and geek culture curators of color to discuss how our personal experiences and views align with the comic work that we create. The folx I sat in community with on that panel - Ben Passmore, Clara Emiliana, Nichole Robinson, Brian Parker, and Sean Wynn - are all incredible folx doing impactful work that I have considered friends and associates for some time now (make that a new friend and associate in Ben Passmore). In my humble opinion the panel itself was phenomenal (you can watch it in its entirety here); we all shared the space we were given with no hang-ups and had a robust discussion that touched on a myriad of topics while pulling no punches. I would like to thank Andréa and Katie for having me as a panelist, for putting together this panel, and allowing us the space to roll with it as we wanted. But I walked away from my afternoon in Lake Oswego with one firm understanding:

I ain’t never going back to Lake Oswego ever again.

You couldn’t pay me to go back to Lake Oswego.

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