Essay from Donal Mahoney

Caseworker, 1962
 
In 1962, I was a caseworker, not a social worker, in the Cabrini-Green Housing Project in Chicago. In that era, the difference between a caseworker and a social worker was simple. A social worker had a degree or two in social work and was qualified to work with the poor. A caseworker usually had a degree but not in social work. And a caseworker usually had too many clients to have time to do social work even if he or she had a social work degree and knew how to apply it. 
 
To be hired by Cook County Department of Public Aid as a caseworker in 1962, all one had to have was a degree in anything and the ability to pass a test. I passed the test and was assigned as a novice caseworker to Cabrini-Green, perhaps the “toughest” housing project in Chicago at that time. I was assigned to two high-rise buildings with 458 families. I remember their addresses as clearly today as the address of my childhood home. Some things one always remembers.

Continue reading

Cheese from Yeast: essay from Cristina Deptula

When I was growing up, a common dairy advertising jingle on the radio went, ‘Cows in Berkeley? Moooo.’

There may not be many cows around the Oakland and Berkeley area, yet there are several people involved with creating cheese at North Oakland’s Counter Culture Labs.

According to the Water Footprint Network, a global group of researchers and professionals dedicated to analyzing the world’s water use, a pound of cheese requires 381 gallons of water to produce.

Even after the Bay Area’s rainy winter, many people recognize that our state is prone to droughts. So molecular biologist Craig Rouskey and others are developing cheeses less reliant on heavy water use.

Continue reading

Short story from Mike Zone

Sam Against Time

By Mike Zone

Samuel K. Drexel stood in the hallway, facing down two doors on the second floor of the locally esteemed and moderately priced Cauliflower Hotel. Neurons bouncing around his brain like a wild pinball, trying to determine which room his wife had entered with Coach McMurphy.

Asymmetrical beads of sweat decorated half his boyish face of cut sharp fine features almost like a lady but not quite, having an Adam’s apple and all, he pondered that as he bit into his feminine lower lip but the moisture soaking into his light brown lanky hair snapped him out of it, forcing back into his calculations, factoring variable to no avail determining whether the couple had entered behind Red Door #206 or 208.

Christ, McMurphy! Coach Nicholson McMurphy. How typical, the high school football coach, former semi-pro football player turned philosophy teacher who didn’t know a thing about philosophy; stealing the math teacher’s wife. The kids would be posting this all over FaceBook, tweeting memes or whatever they instagramed; as their parents fondly reflected on the teen McMurphy and Drexel years, in which the same thing happened at least twice a year with Samuel Drexel winding up drenched in toilet water, missing his belt and one shoe but brandishing two black eyes to make up for the lack of accessories.

Continue reading

Poetry from Dave Douglas

Designed to Love You

 

I was designed to love you, but —

Betrayal arrived with my first breath;

I committed treason on a cosmic scale

And for that I must be put to death.

 

I was designed to love you —

Molded clay from which I stand,

But I destroyed your masterpiece —

From Paradise to a wasteland.

 

I was designed to love you,

So I worked to gain your favor,

Then I carved gold into a calf

And glorified in all my labor.

 

I was designed to love you,

But I left you like a prostitute,

And wallowed with the swine

Until I was stubbornly destitute.

 

I was designed to love you

But I spat slander in your face,

Pounded the nails into your hands

And disregarded your embrace.

 

I was designed to love you, and —

Although you drew me to your waters

And I followed you out of the boat,

I denied you over, and over, and over …

 

A mystery from the beginning:

I was blind to your eternal view,

But because you loved me first

I am redesigned to love you!

 

Elizabeth Hughes’ Book Periscope

Fifty Shades Darker by E.L. James

fiftyshadesdarker

Fifty Shades Darker is the second book in the Fifty Shades series by E. L. James. It is  about Christian Grey, a man who is heavily into the whole kinky sado-sex scene. In this book it goes into more of why and how he turned out the way he did. He gets back together with Ana after she leaves him in the first installment of the series. If you enjoy reading or are into the whole S & M kinky sex erotica, then this is the book for you. This is a New York Times best seller so it seems like a lot of readers are into it, curious about it or want to get into the whole kinky sex scene.
Small Persons With Wings (they hate to
 be called fairies) by Ellen Booraem
SmallPersonswithWings

Small Persons With Wings by Ellen Booraem is a
very well-written, cute book.

It could appeal to the reader of any age. It is about Melanie Angelica Turpin and her family. Melanie and her family had a Small Person With Wings living in their home until she was in kindergarten when she told her class about the fairy that lived with them. Then
Fidius took off and did not return until years later. One day her father gets a phone call from someone claiming to be
his father’s lawyer, stating that his father Orgiers has
passed away.
They pack up and move to the Inn that her
grandfather owned. It also had a pub in the cellar of the
Inn. They then discover a fairy (Parvi Pennati) living in an
old slipper in the chandelier of the pub. The pub is and inn
is very run down and needs lots of work.They soon find out there isn’t just one fairy. They have come upon
hundreds. The grandfather had a ring that will make an
elixir the fairies need for their powers. What happens then
is quite the adventure. Although this book is geared toward
a younger audience, I think that all ages could enjoy the
story. I highly recommend this book.

Poetry from Vijay Nair

Megastar

Mega, he’s a star in the sky

Not a screen shines silver where

Appears a star that dwelling apart

No Angels dare to tread, this

Celestial omnibus a master performer

Conceals artifice his art a proof

Of the theory of acting, best device

A prolific actor has talent eloquent

Continue reading

Poetry from Tamara Rasmussen

Spiral

 

Straight lines and grid-work

can’t define Me.

I know all the angles

and bend them ’round.

I hide that little bit of lightning

beneath My peppery tongue,

and when I lose My patience,

I use it!

Don’t push Me.

When I cut straight to the point,

the point goes up in smoke.

Better to let Me

come about in My own way.

There’s nothing about Me

you can nail down,

put in a box,

bend to your own purpose.

I bend you.

When you call My name,

remember that.

Let yourself flap like a flag in My wind.

Let your tongue go slack,

and speak My tongues!

Continue reading