Dear Friends,

You haven’t heard from me lately because in mid-April, when I was rushing across Eighth Avenue to meet a cousin for an early supper after her matinee, I took a spill and managed to bust my right shoulder and right kneecap.  The shoulder surgery that followed was but one feature of the hospitalization which resulted.  And the huge brace that has been immobilizing my knee came off this morning.   I thought it best to write to you as I experience the results of that six-week healing.

The weeks of forced bed-rest have felt like torture, and the experience has weakened my brain as well as my body.  I managed to finish a short story that was four-fifths of the way along before my sudden mishap.  And that’s about all I have to show for the recent past—that and an impressive scar that is already fading into obscurity while the x-ray record of my surgeon’s prowess remains vivid—illustrating a most elegant combination of a custom-fitted steel plate and nine screws.

This first day of Pride Month feels like an inflection point, as it does every year, I suppose.  This year it feels especially urgent to focus on the possibilities for the future rather than the wounds of the past.  At a time when women’s reproductive rights and freedoms seem poised to lose federal protection, it’s easy to imagine the same fate for LGBTQ rights and guarantees.

These are dangerous times we live in, friends.  So as we celebrate our achievements, let us also be mindful of the perilous path ahead.  This is an election year, after all.  So let’s be especially prideful about voting in primaries and in the general election this November.  As always, let’s treat this year as though our very future depends upon it.  Because it does!

Let’s rally ’round the (rainbow) flag this month, for certain.  But let’s also proudly wear the mantle of adulthood as we participate in the rituals of civilization.  Thank you for joining me on this journey.

Bruce

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