Coach Bill / Dad, Entrepreneur Special Educator, American Political Scientist, Writer, Musician.

My grandmother, Kathleen was born and raised in Missouri, the daughter of a devout preacher. She was my grandfather's second wife, joining the family when my father was a scrappy, 13 year old, back in 1945-6. A History and Social Studies teacher at his school in Pasadena, Grandma watched over Dad, who was a quintessential outdoorsy, 'sandlot' kind of kid in the California of the 1940's. In his preadolescent years, Dad would walk around with a sling-shot, and cuffed, blue jeans with his hair slicked back. Dad's real mom was a beautiful woman who had tuberculosis and was an alcoholic. She spent her time living in the arid desert or the breezier mountains of 'Cali.' to address her pulmonary condition. I never met her. She passed away in the 1970's before my birth. I wish I could have met her to know my father from a mother's perspective. Grandma Kathleen was 'my grandmother' and a loving, caring, nurturing one at that. She dealt with ...

My grandmother, who lived for 100 years, had Parkinson's. Throughout my childhood she would send handwritten letters to my sisters and I from California telling us about what she was up to, what Blue the black cat was into or how we were going to meet soon. Her letters were long and she had solid handwriting. Though we visited California yearly,  letters from 'the Golden State' were like magic to me, especially letters from my grandmother. She took the time to write these since I was a little boy. As I entered adulthood the shake in her hands had increased considerably so much that the letters were hard to read and had become illegible after that. Phone calls became more popular. She was cognitively intact for the most part. Though we were far apart from each other, I would visit her on my own every year. Besides my Dad, she was my only other live connection to my Dad's side of the family. This created a great connection between us. The letters from the pas...

updated 1/11/15 10:23 am A massive methane leak has been spewed at least 83 thousand metric TONS of methane and counting into the air of Burbank, a well-known suburb of Los Angeles for three months now. According to the Los Angeles Times, the Southern California Gas Company removed the original safety valve from the gas well over 36 years ago (1979) and CHOSE not to replace it because it was not required by law to do so. To add injury to insult, the gas company thinks it MAY be able to fix the issue sometime in March. Does this sound like 'Fuku part 2?,' as in the still continuous 100,000 gallons of nasty radioactive water spewing daily into the Pacific Ocean from the Fukushima nuclear power plant in eastern Japan? It has been nearly half a decade that 'Fuku' has been releasing itself on the marine life in the Pacific basin killing most if not all marine life in that ocean. Now we have what amounts to a volcanic eruption blasting what amounts to the main component ...

They sprayed bullets indiscriminately. There were people in pain on the floor with blood  gushing out. There needs to be a more well-rounded approach to how we maintain the threads that keep this country together.     They left the baby with the grandma and decided to take care of business by killing people who belonged to families also.  They had a mind and heart set.  They had an infant. What will happen to that infant of theirs? If  parents were killed in the massacre, how will the surviving families deal  with  the raising of the children. How can the community help? How can community be ready to help each other when families are ripped apart? This affects everyone and apparently the attacks can happen anywhere. How do we change elements on the ground to change the landscape?  Can we meet negative disruption with the wheel of positive disruption? Social entrepreneurship can be love in action when done righ...