A San Francisco man died on the afternoon of Tuesday, April 24. I didn’t know him, but according to this article he left a wife and a tight-knit community that described him as “a good guy” and “a very gentle man” when he was struck by a mail truck at age 48.

He must have been some guy to score an entire article instead of just an obituary, right? Well, let’s see what else we can learn from this very interesting read:

if you are looking to muster a lot of sympathy, this is an uphill battle. Skateboard was a reckless, homeless drinker who, after any number of close calls, finally got run over. Frankly, he was probably living on borrowed time. So it goes.

Monty Holmes, known as Skateboard because he was missing both legs and chose that mode of transport, was homeless and an alcoholic. Apparently, the San Francisco Chronicle finds this adequate reason to to paint him as a “street character” who, despite his quirks and annoying characteristics, managed to find friends while living in a rough neighborhood.

I know that certain rules of etiquette are antiquated and should be challenged. However, there are still situations in which one should observe a baseline standard of decorum. Death is one of those instances. Not speaking ill of the dead is a good rule of thumb, especially not publicly and not immediately afterward. Making every effort to comfort loved ones is another - describing the wife of the deceased as having a “nasty scar” is probably indelicate during the mourning period.

A person’s position in life should not rob him of basic human dignity. A homeless man should be granted the same respect in passing as any other person. I don’t think it’s likely that the Chronicle would publish an article noting that a recently deceased businessman was not only philanthropic and influential in his field but also tyrannical to his employees and unfaithful to his wife. That person’s family wouldn’t stand for such a portrait, nor would the general public. Why should a homeless man be treated that way?

There are about a zillion homeless people in my neighborhood, and many (if not most) are addicts of some sort. I don’t pretend I’m not disturbed when someone lights up a crack pipe in front of me, or stumbles into the corner store to buy yet another overpriced bottle of liquor. My response to this, though, is to be thankful I haven’t been cursed with a substance abuse problem, and grateful for a support system that ensures I will always have a home. Unlike the author of this Chronicle piece, I understand that I am lucky in life, and that not everyone has my good fortune. I am disgusted that, in this theoretically “progressive” city, a man’s life can be publicly torn apart before he’s even laid to rest, simply because he had the misfortune of living on the street.

The lesson in this? It’s not just a homeless person’s life that’s worth less than others’ - it’s his death, too.

Happy Birthday to Q*Purr and Jas*Bert.

I guess this is like enriched Wonder Bread?

The verdict? Tastes like chicken. I mean, like regular Diet Coke. Hooray for horribly unhealthy substances made vaguely healthier! That is, if the “vitamins and minerals” don’t get warped into toxic waste by the other stuff in this glorified battery acid.

Hey, we all have our addictions. Mine is a lot healthier than most others’ in my neighborhood.

I am willing to violate Rule #1 of this website.

Image: from a Take Back the Night flyer, circa 2000. I think it’s a copyright violation. Oops.

A few years back, I was an organizer for the Champaign-Urbana version of Take Back the Night. For those unfamiliar with TBTN, it is an international event designed to protest violence against women. It dates back to 1977, and is celebrated in virtually every major city in the US. Specific details vary from place to place, but for the most part, the occasion includes a rally followed by a women-only march through the streets. While Champaign-Urbana has historically stuck to this format, this year’s organizers are, much to my dismay, allowing men to march.

Is a women-only event exclusionary? Yes. Is there a reason for it? Yes. The march is an opportunity for women to walk the streets after dark without the presence or protection of men. The value of this experience is immeasurable, because we spend our lives with the ever-present fear of walking alone at night. While it’s statistically true that most sexual assaults are committed by persons known to the survivors, this doesn’t minimize the constant fear women experience of stranger rape. It certainly doesn’t prevent us from being warned from childhood on against venturing out at night - because, you know, if we do, we’re “asking for it”.

Given this reality, it makes perfect sense that a march like Take Back the Night would be empowering for those of us who fear gender-based violence on a nightly basis. It also seems obvious that adding men to the equation contradicts the basic premise of the event. This isn’t to say that men don’t have a place in eliminating and protesting violence against women. They do, and are absolutely essential to the movement. To this end, there are plenty of opportunities for men to get involved. I have attended workshops and seminars on the topic myself, and there are literally scores of organizations devoted specifically to the issue. There are even national conferences in which participants dissect every possible angle of every possible role for men in ending gender-based violence. On the local level in Champaign-Urbana, a group called Men Against Sexual Violence came into existence in part to educate men on the need for a women-only TBTN, and to provide alternate activities for men during the march. In short, there are a whole 364.9 days out of the year in which men can plan a myriad of activities combating violence against women, as well as an existing community already engaged in the struggle.

Given the ample opportunity and vast network of support for men wishing to fight the good fight, you’d think the guys would leave us alone, right? Guess again. Every year, the same thing happened. First, the school newspaper would 1) publish a bunch of articles, editorials, and letters expressing outrage at the exclusion of men, and give us a tiny bit of print space to balance things out; and 2) send a male photographer to cover the march, despite a politely phrased request in writing to respect the women-only nature of the event. Second, the community would be abuzz with can-you-believe-the-audacity-of-those-women chatter, despite public comments, press releases, and a clearly worded website posting.

Third, and most disturbing, was the yearly Lone Ranger. This was a guy who was utterly livid that he could not march, and who would not back down following any amount of discussion or, eventually, avoidance. He would emerge from the pack of men who started out mad, but eventually calmed down after understanding the point of the event. In contrast, the Lone Ranger would endlessly assert that he was OUTRAGED that we would dare to question his commitment to ending violence against women, and that we were DISCRIMINATORY, and SEXIST, and OPPRESSIVE, and OMG HE COULDN’T BELIEVE WE WOULD TREAT HIM SO BADLY WHEN HE JUST WANTED TO SHOW THE WORLD HOW DEVOTED HE WAS TO EMPOWERING WOMEN. He was always very angry, usually in a threatening and abusive manner. He never saw anything ironic about his tireless devotion to questioning the boundaries set by a group of women concerning their own perceptions of safety. He also consumed copious amounts of energy that would have been better applied to organizing, or, well, to almost anything else.

The point is that excluding men from Take Back the Night is important to me. Most men are fabulous, and I know many who are amazing supporters of a variety of feminist causes, but this is a place for women. Freedom from the notion that one is only safe with a man present cannot occur with a man present. It’s that simple. Therefore, I am deeply disappointed that this year’s C-U TBTN organizers have overturned decades of empowerment and strength by allowing men to march. Congrats - you’ve got the Lone Ranger in your ranks now, along with a crew of guys who might have been better educated had they been challenged to think harder about women’s experiences with gender violence. Who don’t you have? Rape survivors who feel uncomfortable and unsafe marching with men.

Public Service Announcement from The Bellman

Just doing my part. See also “Let There Be Songs to Fill the Air“.

Shower, post-fixing:

Cons:

• Aesthetically displeasing
• Mold hazard

Pros:

• I rent, so it’s not my (financial) problem
• No repeats of the three afternoons I spent waiting for the plumber to show up
• I can now shower in my own apartment

Life is good when you see fireworks from your window on a random Wednesday:

I have no idea why. Maybe San Francisco just loves us.