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Davis, California May 23, 2018 by David Weinshilboum Editor’s note: David Weinshilboum has a son who attends Da Vinci Charter Academy High School in Davis. Davis police continue to investigate a Davis high school senior who on Monday evening posted a threatening message on social...
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A couple days ago, a cop pulled me over. It was late at night, and I’d been driving for nine hours straight. Home. That’s all I wanted, and I was going fast, too fast. I was zipping down I-80, descending the Sierra-Nevada mountain range in...
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I’ve always enjoyed mentoring young people. As a college student, I tutored at-risk junior high kids; in graduate school, I served as an editor at the student newspaper, collaborating with teens as they developed their prose; as a professional journalist, I worked as an internship...
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My personal effects have gone missing of late. I’ll prepare for a gym visit and realize my exercise pants have disappeared. I’ll look for my baggy sweatshirt of preference (an ugly gray thing with orange lettering), and it’s nowhere to be found. Recently, my hair...
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I’m a product of disparate influences. I’m the child of a Jewish father and a Chinese mother — the latter a raging atheist — so my cultural and spiritual sensibilites are a pastiche as organized as a Jackson Pollock image. More than once, my backgrounds...
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By David Weinshilboum Fourteen years ago, my son’s life almost ended before it began. The whole birthing process started out harmlessly enough, very much like the scenarios you’d see on those Learning Channel shows. There was a lot more waiting around than tension: wait for...
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Dear NRA member, Let’s start with the obvious. We don’t see eye to eye on guns. Really, though, we aren’t that different. You want your family to be safe; I would do anything to protect my family, too. You want control of your decisions without...
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As a young boy, I constantly heard my parents condemn the state of the world. In their minds, my generation was responsible for many of society’s ills. Of course, my actions reflected the transgressions of my generation. If I walked to the bus stop in...
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Don’t call me Ishmael. This is not an epic story, and there are no tattooed cannibals or white whales in this yarn. The only connection this story has to Herman Melville’s great work is the importance of Starbuck, but I’m getting ahead of myself. Some...
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