Village Life: Why I use medical cannabis
By Ted Nelson I thought I was losing my mind. Two sleepless nights in a row had left me exhausted, depressed, and mentally discombobulated. I was having dinner at my Los Angeles apartment with my youngest son, sharing my distress. A month earlier, I had been diagnosed with an enlarged prostate after complaining of regularly having to get up at night to pee. My doctor prescribed Flomax. Two weeks on Flomax and my nighttime runs to...
Village Life: Why I moved to Flint
By Ted Nelson My first experience of Flint was Bishop International Airport. I still wonder about the “International” part. Could it be that Flint itself is another country? Perhaps there are secret flights here in the dark of night — aliens sneaking in from all over the world to benefit from the city’s abundance of jobs, services, and amenities. Who knows? I, however, was on a mission of another kind. I was at Bishop...
Village Life: in Flint, there’s always more than one story; there’s always more to come
By Jan Worth-Nelson Some time in the middle of February – by far the longest, the damnedest, the cussedest month of the year in these parts–I got a severe attack of cabin fever. I’d been sick half the winter and between stink bugs, porn stars, scabs of snow everywhere, a terminally ill friend, threats of bottled water cutoffs, several bouts of existential dread in the middle of the night—well, let me just say that my tiny...
Grayce Scholt, iconic writer, teacher, artist and poet of East Village Magazine, dead at 92
By Jan Worth-Nelson It is with a heavy heart that we announce that Grayce Scholt, our beloved longtime poet of East Village Magazine, died this morning at the Mission Point rehab center in Holly. Grayce was 92. As we attempt to absorb this great loss for EVM and for the community, here is a column I wrote just after I started writing for East Village Magazine ten years ago. One of the first people the late Gary Custer wanted me to...
Village Life: Just another drag queen bingo night in Flint cheering things up
By Jan Worth-Nelson Can Flint be any more itself than combining a crowded bookstore, bingo, and a curvy six-foot tall drag queen in red sequins hollering out “B-8, bitches!”? I’ve been here more than 35 years and by now there is nothing much that could surprise me about my adopted hometown. The energy at Totem Bookstore’s Drag Queen Bingo night makes me think no matter how pissed we get at the world, no...
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