Hidden in the depths of the Cesar Chavez Center at San Francisco State University, S.P.E.A.K.’s Open Mic Night finds its home at The Depot, a…
When I first met Major Jackson, it was at an event that I like to call, with the dishonesty of hindsight, the sycophantic shitshow sonnet. We…
Obscene, indecent, and raunchy are all words that come to mind when one describes the meaning of bawdy, and Bawdy Storytelling embraces them all in shocking and…
The independent bookstore was packed, standing room only, with people standing outside the doors and watching from behind glass walls. Another glass wall overlooked the…
I was gliding on a silver monorail through some worn-out neighborhoods in the East Bay. It was like a monolithic form of surveillance. I was…
This evening, February 5th 2013, I bore witness to three gorgeous and prolific minds as they competed gently amongst themselves for the right to play…
Bob Coffen is having a tough time. So much so, he might as well be living in his own last name. He doesn’t get much…
The Bellwether Revivals is not about music, or murder, or even love, though all three are present: the music a repeating grace note trill, the…
I am nearing the completion of a non-fiction book, and have been trying to decide whether to once again look for an agent, or to…
When I first came to the US from the UK, where I grew up, in 1966, I was shocked that so many Americans still approved…