POSITIVE THOUGHTS

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Publisher / Executive LAURA M VILLAGRAN

Business Development Manager RANDALL JOBE

Production RAFA ESPINOSA News Features JOHNNY TRLICA

Copy Editor NANCY FORD Scene Writers JIM AYRES JANICE ANDERSON Distribution MIRIAM ORIHUELA ELIZABETH MEMBRILLO

THE STAR CONTRIBUTING WRITERS

JIM AYRES by day is an employee benefits and human resources writer. By night he turns his creativity toward the local food and restaurant scene. Do you know of a restaurant that needs a review? Info@montrosestar.com

NANCY FORD has enjoyed a front row seat to the most remarkable and sparkly Cultural Revolution in the history of mankind. “What a world!” She reflects appropriately. After moving to Houston from Ohio in 1981, Ford became a highly visible player in Texas’ LGBT publishing circles as an editor and contributor to myriad other local and statewide LGBT magazines and newspapers.

RANDALL JOBE has been a fixture in the Houston LGBT Community for several decades in marketing and promotions for top nightclubs, as an actor/director/writer for dozens of theatrical productions, and is also known for his whimsical art pieces. He is the author of the 12-part series “This Old Queen”, which summarized his many experiences living in the gay Mecca, Montrose.

VIC GERAMI is journalist, media contributor and Editor & Publisher of The Blunt Post. Vic grew up in LA and has a BA in Theater Arts. He spent six years at Frontiers Magazine, followed by LA Weekly and Voice Media Group. His syndicated celebrity Q&A column, 10 Questions with Vic, is a LA Press Club’s National Arts & Entertainment Journalism Award finalist. Vic is a contributor for Montrose Star, DC Life Magazine, Out & About Nashville, Q Virginia, GNI MAG, QNotes, Windy City Times, WeHo Times, GoWeHo, Los Angeles Blade, Asbarez, California Courier, Desert Daily Guide, Armenian Weekly, GED, The Pride LA, IN Magazine and The Advocate Magazine.

FOREST RIGGS is no stranger to the adventures of life, he bills himself as a “raconteur with a gypsy spirit.” A former educator, public speaker, hospital administrator, counselor and gay owner, he was instrumental in the formation of OutSmart Magazine in the early 1990s. He has written for several newspapers, magazines and other publications. Recently he completed a collection of short stories about his beloved Galveston and is working on a novel. He currently resides on the island where he can be found wasting bait and searching for the meaning of life.

JOHNNY TRLICA has called the Houston area home all of his life. Four years ago he founded and still edits the Houston Rainbow Herald and has worked in the apartment leasing industry for the past two years. His passion is keeping the battle for LGBT rights at the forefront of today’s headlines and fighting complacency in the LGBT community.

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Yuletide Memories: Empty chairs, 20/20 and the greatest Christmas

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By Johnny Trlica

COMMENTARY: BEFORE THIS YEAR, 2020 WAS synonymous with cheap liquor and bad hangovers. Pandemics were only read about in medical journals and fascism was what we watched on the History Channel. While over 70 million Americans looked at the last four years and said, “Yes, give me four more years of that,” an overwhelming six million more said, “Enough!” ere are two lights at the end of the tunnel: a vaccine and a competent administration. Realizing family gatherings will be di erent this holiday season, one thing remains unchanged — Christmas is a time to re ect. It’s a time to recall cherished memories and precious loved ones. Here are two of mine. Drowning our sorrows in 2020 With over 250,000 deaths from Covid-19 this year, many families will have empty chairs at the table or around the Christmas tree. 1992 was like that for my family. It was barely a month after my sister Robin had passed away, at 34. She had spent the year ghting breast cancer while pregnant. On Christmas Eve the family gathered at our parent’s Rosenberg home, just as we always did. But this year, there was a noticeable absence. We went through the usual routine of exchanging gifts, visiting with each other and eating, but it just wasn’t the same. My three siblings departed early with their families and Daddy had gone to bed. at left me and Mama. She was in no hurry to go to bed and I had no one to go home to. Funny how some things never change. I asked her if she had something to drink. She replied, “I think Daddy has some MD 20/20 in here.” I suggested we have a drink together. We sat at the kitchen table, opened the cheap bottle of hooch, poured ourselves a glass and proceeded to have one of the most memorable nights of my life. We got smashed! We started with small talk, but after our second glass of 20/20, Mama con ded about how much she missed Robin and worried about what would happen with the four children she left behind. e eldest was ve and the youngest only two and a half months old. She was concerned how their father would care for them and that Robin’s kids would never know how wonderful and caring their mother was. By 2 a.m. we had polished o the entire contents of Daddy’s bottle, nibbled a few snacks and shed a few tears. e next day, Mama and I shared the hangover from hell, but it was worth it. We never forgot about that night when it was just me and her and a bottle of MD 20/20. e greatest Christmas ere have been many other memorable Christmases in my life, but the most memorable one came in 2005. at was Mama’s last Christmas with us. She had been incredibly ill for most of the year and was living in a nursing home. She had to relinquish her apartment that she loved so profoundly and was forced to liquidate her possessions. Everything from furniture to kitchen utensils, blenders, dishes and pots and pans were sold.

Miraculously Mama began to get better around anksgiving. She spent that day at my oldest sister’s home and seemed like her old self. She had a spring in her step and was too healthy to be living in an “old folk’s home.” I asked Mama if she would like to move in with me if I got us an apartment in or near Rosenberg. She was ecstatic at the possibility of leaving “the home” as I jokingly referred to the facility with her. We could move in the day after Christmas.

On Christmas Eve the family gathered as we always did. is time it was at my second oldest sister’s home in Sugar Land. We ate, laughed and caught up with each other’s activities. After a few hours we began the gift exchange game, via a “Dirty Santa” game.

Numbers were drawn, gifts were opened, and some were “stolen.” When all the gifts were exposed there were mostly kitchen items resting in everyone’s laps. ere was a blender, dishes, pots and pans and an assortment of other related items. en as if on cue, everyone got up and handed over all the Christmas gifts to Mama and me. We were both in total shock, but not really surprised. ey knew I was not an Ina Garten when it came to nding my way around a kitchen and my new roommate and I would need those items. On the day after Christmas, the whole family showed up at my Montrose apartment to help pack up the U-Haul and move me to Rosenberg to be with our mother. Mama checked out of “the home” and never returned. She put all those Christmas gifts to use over the next few months as she cooked, sewed and did all the arts and crafts things she loved doing so much. Although our time together as roommates was brief, it’s an experience I would not trade for anything.

I will always cherish that Christmas, when our family pulled together to make my mother’s last Christmas, the greatest Christmas. e