It doesn't do any good to scream at someone and tell him he's wrong. Yell, and a wall gets built. Deride, and it's the same thing. You have to be reasonable, understanding and incredibly patient if you ever intend to enlighten a person and lead him to change his mind.
It would, therefore, be stupid and counterproductive for me to make any blanket negative statement about heterosexual men.
Read MoreThere are zealots on both sides of the abortion issue: pro-choicers who believe a woman should be able to have an abortion at any stage in her pregnancy for any reason at all; pro-lifers who decry all abortions, no matter what the circumstances.
These are the people we continually read about or see on the news. But their views aren't our views. Their views don't represent where most Americans are on this issue.
Read MoreIt's the first capitulation. Totally understandable. Maybe even warranted. But it's a surrender, nonetheless, of ideals and perhaps even goals.
President-elect Bill Clinton has decided to send his only child, Chelsea, to private school. Who can blame him? Who, in his position, wouldn't do the same? He is the president. She is his daughter. Why shouldn't she have the best?
Read MoreUsually I read these things and take them for what they are: a warning that once I would have memorized, but that now I just peruse. I don't have little kids anymore. I don't need to worry about toy safety.
But the story was about Fisher Price's Little People and though it has been years since I picked up the cow and put him back in his barn, and arranged the plastic children in their swings, I finished the article because of all the toys my children had, Fisher Price Little People were my favorite. Even the words on a printed page evoke nostalgia.
Read MoreI'm at a shoe store at the check- out counter when a boy who works there walks over to the register and tells the girl who is waiting on me that he's going outside for a cigarette.
The boy looks young, no more than 17. He's thin and cute and reminds me of my son at that age.
Read MoreNo except here. Just a well-I-was-really-off-the-mark-with-this-prediction! The anything goes era continues.
Read MoreA child is born, a normal, healthy, beautiful child. He rolls over when he should, sits up like all babies his age, crawls, stands, walks, says "mama" and "dada," and when he smiles, he lights up a room.
But when he's about a year-and-a-half he stops using words, stops looking at people and doesn't reach out anymore. He doesn't smile. He frowns, screams, bites his hands, bangs his head on the floor and tears at his face and his hair. He repeats this behavior day after day.
What causes this? No one has an answer. Neither the cause nor the cure of autism is known.
Read Moret shouldn't have happened. This is an unarguable fact. Julie Tobin, of West Roxbury, should be alive, not dead.
She was killed on Sept. 6, 1987. The 17-year-old had spent the afternoon at a family reunion of a friend held at Norwood Country Club. Shortly after midnight, she left the reunion on foot and was standing in the breakdown lane of Route 1 talking to some friends in a van when she suddenly ran around the front of the van and onto the road. She was hit by a car and died the next day.
Read MoreIn pictures they're smiling. Check out the magazines. Notice the ads. Look at the pretty girl with the good-looking guy - no worry on her face, only a smile.
On TV it's the same, and in movies. Smiles, smiles everywhere. Everyone is grinning. Everyone is cheerful. Everyone is having a good time. This is what we are supposed to be doing - smiling, connecting, enjoying life.
Read MoreI want to laugh at it, say it can't be, dismiss it as science fiction. For that's all it is right now.
Eternal life here on Earth? Impossible. Impractical.
Absolutely intolerable.
Read MoreThey don't want to believe it. Or if they believe it, they want to forget.
"Why do you have to keep bringing this up? Why do you continually talk about it? It does no good. It's over. It's in the past. Why can't you just get on with your life?"
They don't understand why at birthdays and holidays and christenings and baptisms, she continues to arrive late - after he's gone. They don't understand why she refuses his gifts, why she's still in therapy, why she has night sweats. They don't understand why sometimes in the middle of the day, when it all comes back to her, she sits and sobs.
Read MoreThe reason that pigs wallow in mud is because their skin is fair and thin and the hair covering their bodies is sparse and offers little protection from the sun. During the day, pigs burrow in the ground to keep cool. At night they find a stream or a puddle and clean themselves. There is a purpose for what they do.
What, I wonder, is our purpose?
Read MoreThis is about stealing that has the state's imprimatur, about a state health care worker who offers students abortion pills, about a University of Massachusetts bursar with a yellow streak up his back, about a health facility that should be shut down, about a situation that should have been exposed months ago. But I didn't want to rock the boat then. I didn't want to put my daughter at risk of not getting into the courses she needs to graduate. I didn't want to embarrass her. I still don't.
Read MoreI didn't even notice it. I was sitting there watching the summer premiere of "Beverly Hills 90210" with my two daughters, one 15, one 20, when the 20-year-old exploded.
"Did you ever notice how the only ones on this show with a life are the guys? They have jobs. They have interests.
Read MoreIt's the story I hear most often. I will be listening to someone tell me about a day spent at the beach 30 years ago, a glorious day. Everything was perfect until.
And suddenly I will be listening to a different story, a story stained with bewilderment and betrayal and tears. I will be talking to a woman whose husband drinks - he didn't always drink, he used to be a nice guy. You should have known him when.
Read MoreAll they're looking for is courtesy. An acknowledgment that they exist. A polite word. A smile.
"A smile is a frown turned upside down,' went the lyric of a somewhat hokey old song.
Well, hokey or not, the phrase needs resurrecting.
Something needs to be done to make everyday encounters between strangers a little more pleasant.
Read MoreYou sit and listen to kids talk today and it about breaks your heart because they're not kids anymore. They know too much. They've lived too much. They're only 6 or 8 or 12 or 14 and they have adult worries. Their parents are divorced or their mother's an alcoholic or their father's abusive or has a girlfriend or is never home or is always home because he lost his job two years ago and hasn't worked since.
They spend their days in front of TV watching people cheat and lie - on the news, on soap operas, on sitcoms.
Read MoreThe language is weighty and obtuse. It bewilders. It intimidates.
The whole process intimidates. Nine Supreme Court justices, theoretically the smartest people in the country, unanimously decide that a cross burned on the lawn of one of the first black families to move into a Minnesota neighborhood is merely an exercise of free speech, a right of all Americans. And we, ordinary citizens who don't wear robes, who don't sit on the highest court of the land, are made uncomfortable by the decision but feel that within the body of ponderous words, there must be some truth, some noble justification that we simply don't understand.
Read MoreIn 30 years this country has gone from being a place where you could picnic in the woods, walk the streets at night, cut through an alley, sleep without locking your doors, drive without worrying about getting lost and ending up in a neighborhood where people will kill you, drive without worrying about a boulder crashing through your window, or a bullet smashing through your head, send your child to school without fear that someone will take a shot at him on the bus, or beat him up in the school yard, or knife him in class.
Read MoreAnger is self-destructive. You have to let go of it. You have to get past it. That's what psychiatrists say.
Priests say it, too. And ministers and rabbis. Turn the other cheek. Hate the sin but love the sinner. Forgive.
Ten years ago, I read "Victim" by Gary Kinder. It told the story of Cortney Naisbitt, 16, the youngest son of Carol and Byron Naisbitt, a sophomore at Utah's Ogden High School. On the afternoon of April 22, 1974, Cortney flew solo for the first time. Flying was his passion. Soloing had been the culmination of a dream.
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