In the 1970s and ’80s, I had a friend named Ken—a rabid Republican and a bank VP. His politics tested my nerves, but beyond that, he was a good and decent man. We could spar, call a truce, and move on. And, like me, he was gay. Our tribe, during those times, needed to hold… Continue reading I once went to a Young Republicans party in LA’s tony Hancock Park. It was a lesson learned.