14 Yr. Old Hacked to Death For Having AIDS

[Isaiah Gakuyo pictured left wearing yellow, squating on ground.]

In a chilling story in the LA Times today, there's a story about a 14 year old boy named Isaiah who was hacked to death by his uncle. Born with the virus, Isaiah was...

"...shuttled among relatives who said the boy had only himself to blame for the beatings and abuse they heaped upon him. "He was always looking for trouble," an aunt said of the HIV-positive 14-year-old.

"By the time AIDS activists came to move Isaiah to a rescue home, relatives had banished him to a woodshed, where he was forced to use a separate cup and plate and wasn't allowed to play with a younger cousin.
Their intervention would not be enough. On a wet morning this spring, one of Isaiah's uncles hacked him to death with a forked hoe. As the boy lay bleeding, relatives and neighbors watched in horror, but none offered help until plastic gloves arrived from the local dispensary.

"Many describe Isaiah's brutal slaying as an "honor killing," symptomatic of the hatred and discrimination faced by millions of people living with HIV in Africa. Efforts to arrest the 26-year-old uncle have failed, police say, because family members are taking food to him in the forest.

This killing took place in Kenya. The story continues where people are expressing sympathy for the uncle and how difficult his job was taking care of the boy in a country where AIDS support is sparse. The story continues...

Some sympathize with the family, characterizing the attack as a spontaneous fit of rage by an overburdened caretaker. The killing, they say, exposes deep gaps in the nation's AIDS support network, particularly for the 750,000 children, like Isaiah, orphaned by the disease.

"I can only imagine the pressures of taking care of a child you know is dying," said Wangari Muta Maathai, the Nobel Peace Prize-winning environmentalist and parliament member who represents the Nyeri district, where the family lives. "We are all angry at the uncle, but how many of us tried to help him when he was taking care of the boy?"

After his father discovered he (the father) was infected, he abandoned the family and his mother returned to her hometown. But soon more family members, also infected, began dying. A sister, two aunts and a grandmother. Isaiah was moved to another home where he was forced to live in a chicken coop. Wherever he went, he got sicker, sores appeared on his body, his hair fell out and he was beaten regularly for not doing his chores and "complaining" too much about being in pain.

He finally found help through his school, began taking meds and attending counseling sessions where they say he was helping other younger kids with HIV. Finally, he was taken in by an uncle, Kiboi, but the two of them did not get along and it finally ended up with Isaiah beaten to death.

Few members of Isaiah's family attended the funeral. Neighbors and tribal elders also stayed away. Instead, the boy's coffin was carried by AIDS activists and his friends at the rescue center...

...Tilling the soil around her home, she denied that AIDS had devastated the family, blaming Isaiah for the family's troubles. "It was all the boy," she said.

Sad, sad story.

Tags: violence, AIDS, AIDS in Africa, Kenya

Towering Taormina Italy

Taormina is on the east side of Sicily up near the toe of the "boot." (All pics are clickable for larger images so you can see the details.)

Seen from our ship, Taormina sits on top of a ledge. We were headed toward the center of town up in those hills (not the beach resorts at the bottom). The city was founded 735 BC by some Greeks. But in subsequent years, it was dominated by many cultures, all of which can be seen in the ancient architecture.


We got in a shuttle bus and wound our way up the mountain.

Us being goofy.
At the top of the hill, you step through this castle wall.


This courtyard was the first thing we walked into. The statues were a little weird. On top of the fountain (which I couldn't get close enough to to get a good shot) was a little Jesus-looking figure with the body of a horse. You can kinda see it. He's wearing a crown on his head.

The city streets are narrow.

Looking up the mountain, there were homes and villas up the hillside.


I loved all the ancient rock turrets on top of this castle section. You can see how old it is just from the stones and how the wall was built.Jim loves signs like this.

Beneath an archway was this mosaic.


This is looking down the hill from the street.

Inside an old church.

Notice the Moorish flourishes in this courtyard.

The narrow street divides here.

Now, looking back down at our ship.

Old walls. I love them.


Me having a Diet Coke at little bistro.

There was much more to see, but we were exhausted, so instead we just stopped. After I got home, I googled Taormina and realized we missed a GORGEOUS Greek theatre. Here's someone else's picture taken from this website.

So, once again, we were bad tourists, but touring can be hard on the body when you haven't had much sleep and your jetlag is still in effect. There's much more to see from our cruise. I'll be posting more soon.

Action Alert for Adonis Polanco, HIV/AIDS Activist

PUBLIC AI Index: AMR 27/003/2006
08 June 2006
UA 160/06 Fear for safety/Death Threats
DOMINICAN REPUBLIC Adonis Polanco (m), HIV/AIDS activist
His family

An HIV/AIDS activist has been receiving anonymous death threats, apparently because of his outspoken criticism of the government's failure to provide adequate treatment for people living with HIV/AIDS in the country. Amnesty International believes that he and his family are in grave danger.

Adonis Polanco works for a network of people living with HIV/AIDS and is a treatment counsellor in a local health clinic in his home town of Boca Chica, an hour's drive east of the capital, Santo Domingo.

On 5 June he took part in the public launch in Santo Domingo of the Amnesty report “I'm not ashamed!” HIV/AIDS and human rights in the Dominican Republic and Guyana (AMR 01/002/2006), where he spoke of the obstacles faced by people living with HIV/AIDS in Boca Chica and the lack of support from the government. The event was front-page news in one of the two main national daily newspapers, and his name appeared in the report. He fears that the event will have raised his profile in a way that will put him in danger, and also his wife and their five children, aged between nine months and 12 years.

On the evening of 14 May he had received an anonymous phone call at home from a woman who told him, “deja de hablar tanto…la gente se desaparece”, “don't talk so much…people disappear”. In mid-April a man had called him and said that if he continued speaking out “vas a aparecer con la boca llena de moscas”, “you'll show up with your mouth full of flies" (meaning, "you'll end up dead”)

In October 2005 he had given a radio interview in which he denounced the government's failure to provide him with treatment after he tested HIV-positive in 2004 After the interview he allegedly found that the brakes on his motorcycle had been tampered with. Since then he has allegedly been followed several times by cars with no license plates and now avoids being outside his home after 6.30pm.

He reportedly began receiving threatening phone calls in June 2005, after he gave radio interviews in which he criticised the government's failure to provide him with the treatment he needed after he tested HIV-positive. It was after this that he began his activism on behalf of other people living with HIV/AIDS, which has resulted in his being the target of threats and intimidation.

BACKGROUND INFORMATION

In the past year Amnesty International has documented several cases of human rights defenders in the Dominican Republic receiving threats because of their work protecting and promoting the rights of their fellow citizens.

Some 88,000 people, or 1.7 per cent of the population, are living with HIV/AIDS in the country. Despite receiving considerable international funding the Dominican government is only providing antiretroviral treatment to only a third of the estimated 10-15,000 people needing it and without which their life expectancy is greatly reduced. In the past 18 months Adonis Polanco has seen more than 20 inhabitants of Boca Chica die because they were unable to obtain treatment for HIV/AIDS.

RECOMMENDED ACTION: Please send appeals to arrive as quickly as possible, in Spanish or your own language:

- expressing concern that Adonis Polanco has been receiving death threats because of his work on behalf of people living with HIV/AIDS;

- calling on the authorities to carry out a thorough and impartial investigation into the threats, to make the results public and to bring those responsible to justice;

- calling on the authorities to provide adequate protection for Adonis Polanco and his family, in accordance with their wishes;

- pointing out that the work of activists and non-governmental organizations who provide help and support to people living with HIV/AIDS is of vital importance, and urging the authorities to ensure they are free to carry out their work without fear of harassment and intimidation.

APPEALS TO:

President

S.E. Leonel Fernández
Presidente de la República
Palacio Nacional
Santo Domingo
Dominican Republic
Fax: +1 809 682 0827

Email: correspondencias@presidencia.gov.do

Salutation: Su Excelencia Señor Presidente/Your Excellency

Attorney General
Sr. Francisco Domínguez Brito
Procurador General de la República
C/Hipólito Herrera Billini Esq. Juan B. Pérez,
Centro de los Héroes, Constanza, Maimón y Estero Hondo
Santo Domingo
Dominican Republic
Fax: +1 809 533 4098

Salutation: Estimado Señor Brito/Dear Sir

Minister of the Interior
Sr. Franklin Almeyda Rancier
Secretario de Estado del Interior y la Policía
Ave. México, Esq.
Leopoldo Navarro,

Edif. Oficinas Gubernamentales,

Bev Blogs the Vlogs

Bev attended vloggercon and says she got the best seat in the house by sitting at the sign-in table because she met everyone coming in. Her blog entry made me laugh because it occurred to me that when you hold a convention where every single person is video blogging everyone else, it might cause a rift in the universe. How much videoreality can the balance of nature take all in one setting?

Bev actually tries to make a blog AND a vlog every single day. How can one person find that much material sitting around the house typing all day? She does it, though. But she doesn't fight fair. She takes care of newborn puppies for the local shelter just before they get adopted. So, she has a stready stream of new faces to take photos of. And who doesn't love puppies?

vlog

Lance Carroll's Expensive Recovery from Exgay Therapy.

After being forced to endure an exgay therapy program called "Love In Action," 18 year old Lance Carroll describes the nightmare of shame and humiliation that he endured at that program which cost his parents $10,000.

"Basically, their form of therapy is conditioning. It's a negative reinforcement of shame. Anything that you connect to homosexuality, you connect to shame within yourself. You internalize this hatred toward yourself, this homophobia, this embarrassment...two months, every day, morning and evening, they would take turns. A person would get up and you would literally shame them for their feelings...

"I didn't fit their stereotype. I wasn't abused as a child. I had a good relationship with my father. I didn't fit what they thought and they didn't know what to do."

He said that his parents took more away from "Love In Action" than he did. They went home thinking that there was something wrong with him, that needed to be fixed. So his mom began daily rounds of verbal abuse and shaming to try to fix him according to what she thought Love In Action wanted her to do.

You can hear Lance's entire testimony here.

(Photo courtesy of Truth Wins Out.)

Tags: exgay, gay, Wayne Besen, Love In Action, Truth Wins Out

Sometimes It's Enough To Say Thank You.

Michael Sugar stands in front of Hollywood United Methodist Church and its famous red ribbon.

You never know when your emotions are going to overwhelm you. All this week, as they announced the 25th anniversary of the first confirmed AIDS patient, I can't say that I've felt all that moved about it. For some reason, it has felt like an arbitrary date. I don't recall a 10th anniversary or a 15th anniversary. But suddenly, it's the 25th anniversary.

I was talking about this to my friend, Michael Sugar, this morning as we drove over the hill to attend a church service here on Pride Sunday in Los Angeles. Michael is a very nice Jewish boy who invited me to go with him. It would be his first time attending a Christian service and the reason he was attending was because of an email.

He agreed with me that this strange "anniversary" has left him feeling a bit cold and dry, not sure how to feel. Like me, he lives with HIV, but he was infected way back in the earliest days of AIDS and it's really a miracle that he's still alive.

The email was one he wrote to Ed Hansen, the pastor of Hollywood United Methodist Church.


Everyone who lives in, or has been in, Hollywood knows this church because they were among the first Christian congregations to take an active part in helping, supporting and advocating for people with AIDS. And, aside from the many programs they established, they did something extraordinary. They erected a gigantic red ribbon and put it on their tower overlooking Hollywood. For many people with AIDS, this has been like a beacon saying, "Forget the Jerry Falwells and the gay haters. We are here for you. We support you. We love you."


Several years ago, Michael noticed that the ribbon (which is made of metal) had grown faded with time and one day noticed that they had a big crane and were doing something up on the tower. So, he assumed they were taking it down. I mean, the AIDS crisis is over, right? Clearly, he thought, they had done their work and they were ready to have their beautiful, historic tower back.

But, no. Actually, they were painting the ribbon. Rather than pulling it down, they were polishing it, refixing it to the tower and making the statement, even more plainly, that they had a commitment to people with AIDS that would not waver, would not falter, and that they did not consider their work to be just a passing fad.


It's hard to tell people how much this means. It's easy to feel neglected and alone when you have AIDS, especially if you're someone whose friends have all died around you and you're living by yourself, continuing the battle. I, myself, have had the good fortune to be surrounded by friends and family who love me. But others? In Hollywood? This church is a beacon of light which will not allow the weather or time to dim its commitment to love.

When we first arrived, the sky was overcast and there was a cold wind blowing. Very unusual for this time of year. But in the foyer of the church, a man sat playing various wooden flutes and it made for a beautifully, warm inviting sound. The inner courtyard was bright with flowers. Inside, we took pictures and admired the arching ceiling and the incredibly ornate stained glass windows.

Soon, the lights dimmed and they began what they call "Sacred Space." A piano and a violin played softly, allowing people to meditate quietly. We ran into a photographer named Richard Settle who showed us around and told us the history of the majestic building. He told us they erected the AIDS ribbon in 1992 in a ceremony, and that they held regular workshops for building panels to the AIDS quilt, supplying all the materials.

He showed us to a plaque in the lobby with the names and dates of the church members who had died of AIDS, a beautiful memorial.


When the service started, the music was sweet, the atmosphere casual, yet structured. Michael and I laughed at the fact that the pastor announced that many of the members were missing from the service because they were taking part in the Pride Parade. Then I remembered last year they were one of the biggest groups of people waking down Santa Monica Blvd. with their big banner, proclaiming their love and support for the gay community.

The pastor, Rev. Dr. Ed Hansen delivered a very interesting sermon. His central point was one that I've been discussing with another UMC minister friend of mine on another forum. He read from the Book of John, the story of Nicodemus and he made the point that when one is "born of the spirit," it means one leaves the notion that following "the law" is the path of God. Instead, the spirit of love is what guides a person and shows him or her what's wrong or what's right. He said:

"It wasn't the Law that taught us to fight against slavery and discrimination against Black people. It wasn't the Law that taught us to give women equal rights and the power to vote. It wasn't the Law that opened up our hearts and doors to gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people. And it wasn't the Law that made us continue in our ministry to people with AIDS. It was the reborn spirit of Love that taught this to us. That's what Jesus meant when he said you must be born again. You must be born of Love, not Law."

It was a perfect sermon. And what I particularly loved about him is how humble and gentle he taught these things. Finally, he said, "All of this was brought home to me this past week when I received an email." (He was talking about Michael's email). "And I would like to read it to you now..."

To Hollywood United Methodist Church,

I'm writing to express my gratitude to Hollywood United Methodist Church. I'm not a Christian and have never attended a service in your church. So why am I writing to express my gratitude? It's that red ribbon that's been on the exterior of your building for so many years. I've driven past many, many times over the years and have always felt grateful to you for expressing your support for people with HIV/AIDS in such a public and visible manner.

In an era when many people believe AIDS has gone away, that red ribbon is still there. It's very meaningful to me. I see it as a tribute to all the friends I've lost as well as a reminder of the challenges that many of us still confront every single day. Whenever I drive through Hollywood, I look up and am pleased to see the ribbon is still there.

I was diagnosed with HIV in the early years of the pandemic and I'm very aware of how fortunate or lucky or blessed I am to still be reasonably healthy. In the decades since my diagnosis, I've lost the majority of my family of friends. Years ago, I attended a quilting workshop in your building, joining many others who were also grieving. We helped each other create panels for the AIDS Memorial Quilt. Today, whenever I drive by and see that red ribbon, I am reminded of how much Hollywood United Methodist Church helped me come to grips with incomprehensible loss and learn to put one foot in front of the other and keep living.

I look up at that ribbon every time I drive up Highland and I feel like you're still cheering me onward. This week marks 25 years since the first cases of the disease that became known as AIDS were identified in the press. It seemed like a fitting time to finally send you this note and say thank you.

Most sincerely,
Michael Sugar

He didn't get halfway through the email before I was awash in tears. It came over me so suddenly, and so unexpectedly, that I was caught completely unawares. Suddenly, the 25th anniversary started to come alive for me. I thought of Dick Remley and Chris Seppe and Bobby Nigro -- name after name came to me. Face after face. I thought of how close this disease came to claiming me, and how I'm standing here on the 10th anniversary of when I came so close to being one of those names.


As soon as the pastor finished reading the letter, the entire congregation BURST into applause. It was so spontaneous. And what made it so nice was he didn't send a signal to applaud. He didn't raise an eyebrow or make a dramatic gesture. The thanks that Michael sent to those people meant more to them than he could ever have imagined.

Afterwards, he invited Michael up and, to their surprise, introduced him as the person who wrote that letter. Again, the applause was so loud and so long, I thought it would never end. Michael stood up there with a big goofy grin on his face. His letter was just as much an act of love on his part to them as all their work had been to others. But the plain fact of it is that you never know the real effect when you do something for others in a loving and selfless way.


I felt so proud of him that he took the time to tell them thank you. It was a simple gesture. Just a few words in an email. But I could tell from the other tears streaming in that room, from the way they embraced him afterwards, and from the misty-eyed look of gratitude on all their faces that it had as much impact as anything anyone could have done.

Sometimes it's enough to just say thank you.

Rev. Dr. Ed Hansen with Michael Sugar.

EDIT: Thanks to Andrew Sullivan for linking to this story. Michael and I both are proud to put a spotlight on the work of Hollywood United Methodist Church. May it empower more congregations to reach out into their respective communities in such visible ways.

Tags: gay, Methodist, AIDS, religion

My netfriend Joe.My.God. reported this morning that Drag performance artist and musician Kevin Aviance was brutally beaten by gay bashers screaming, "We're gonna kill you, faggot!"

I agree with Joe's position that anti-gay legislation and Republican gay-bashing, along with the so-called "exgays" who empower them gives these kinds of people tacit permission to look for and commit this kind of violence, especially against those who are don't dress in traditional male/female garb. I don't know what these people think they're doing or who they're trying to impress with this kind of monstrous behavior.

Joe continues, "Apparently, passers-by did nothing to stop the attack. Four young men were arrested and charged with hate crimes. Aviance is hospitalized with a broken jaw and other injuries."

A post at Straight, Not Narrow has a report on a vigil being held outside the "Love Won Out" anti-gay conference in Silver Spring, Maryland. These conferences are attempts to convince friends and families of gay people (as well as conflicted gay persons themselves) that their gay children can turn straight, and therefore have no need of legal protections. However, the horror stories of former "exgays" prove to me that these kinds of conferences are misleading and, sometimes, full of outright lies as they demonize gay people and try to recruit families into the war against gay persons.

It's sad to see gay people turn against their own kind and become foot soldiers in some weird moral war. My position is that sexuality is hardwired. Some people are hardwired to have a more fluid sexuality, capable of moving back and forth between sexes, but it has been proven over and over again that this is not something that can be forced by "therapy." Holding a conference to convince people to change is silly and misleading, and it can lead to great confusion for same sex attracted people who either hate themselves or their same sex attraction.

As friends of mine like Christine will bear witness to, the entire movement is one of denying truth, breaking down one's spirit and impeding one's true emotional and spiritual progress. For politicos like James Dobson, "exgays" are nothing more than tools to use in his constant war against us.

My belief, as I've stated before, is that if someone wants to join something like this, then fine. But they should know what they're getting into, and they should know that they will be entering a world of self-deceit and half-truth. What they're selling is not what the customer will be getting. "Change" is what they promise, but when you look closer, the definition of "change" is very slippery in the world of Exodus.

Wayne Besen states it best in this press release:

In hopes of fitting in and finding acceptance, some people take desperate measures to “change” who they are. Sadly, there are groups that exploit these vulnerable people and their desperate families, offering false hope and miracle cures to “overcome” homosexuality.

One such group is Focus on the Family, which is bringing its traveling “ex-gay” conference, “Love Won Out” to the Washington area this week. Unfortunately, it will be a bastion of misinformation that flies in the face of modern psychology and presents a distorted picture of gay life filled with stereotypes in the guise of science.

Although Focus on the Family claims Love Won Out is about “helping” people, it is really about politics and polls. Conservative groups are acutely aware that people who view homosexuality as a casual choice are dramatically less likely to vote in favor of gay rights.

Evangelicals fighting each other over "choice."

An interesting article in the Washington Post today details a little squabble going on with evangelicals. The issue is whether the government should force cable networks to allow people to "pick and choose" the stations they want to pay for, with the ability to exclude the ones they don't want.

Groups like Concerned Women for America want families to be able to exclude, for instance, stations like MTV or Comedy Central or FX, which have what they consider to be "indecent" programming such as "South Park" or "The Shield."

However, Christian broadcasters oppose this plan because they fear most viewers would choose to exclude the detestable Christian Broadcasting Network or the horrid Trinity Broadcasting Network. Frankly, I'm more offended by their partisan politics and homophobic ranting and raving than I am by South Park's crassly vulgar send-ups of society.

I would be first in line to get rid of these pieces of pious crap from my TV. It makes me mad that I'm forced to have them on my channel line-up when there are other networks I'd much rather be watching.

It's truly wonderful to watch CBN and TBN defending their turf, while simultaneously defending the inclusion of material they oppose. But then, has anyone ever really thought they were ever after anything but money?

10 Yrs. Ago: I'm Going To Live.

[Pictured left: The image of "Louie" my I.V. feedbag as rendered by diary reader Karl.]

Today is another big anniversary. In fact, it's probably one of the most momentous days of my entire life. June 10, 1996 was day I realized I was going to survive.

I stepped on the scales and made note that I had gained 10 pounds. 10 pounds. 10 glorious, delicious, beautiful, life-giving, not-gonna-die, victorious, you can't count me out, everything is different now pounds. Or, as I put it in the diary entry:

Pop those corks, baby!

I'm gonna live! I have dodged the bullet yet again. I am going to live a long and, if you'll pardon the expression, fruitful life. With this evidence and the way I feel about The Last Session going into production with me in the lead role of Gideon, I can truly say that right now is the prime of my life. The most joyful days are here right now!

And for those of you who have watched all this over the past few months, I thank you for your prayers and your tears and your gifts of life and laughter to me.

As you can see, I was prone to purple prose even back then. But how do you put into words the fact that everything on this day changed? Only a few weeks prior, I had screamed at my doctor, gone on the "last cruise of my life," said goodbye to family and friends, made peace with the world and was content to accept the inevitable.

If you look at the days just before this, I had noted some weight gain, but I didn't want to celebrate too soon. I wanted to reach a marker of some kind. And this was it. 10 pounds. After years of not gaining an ounce. After years of watching my body wither away into nothing, I was standing there staring at proof positive that I had been granted a reprieve.

Lazarus, come out!

My First Vlog: I Can See!

I jumped on the video blog (vlog) bandwagon early on when the technology became feasible a little over a year ago. In honor of the first Vlogger Convention happening in San Francisco right now, I thought it might be fun to post my very first vlog, especially since I'm celebrating my return to good health in my "10 Years Ago" series.

This was created right after my eye surgery. For several years I had severely messed up vision in my right eye due to Graves' Disease. My right eye was frozen into a "up" position, causing me extreme double vision. This hampered my ability to watch movies, watch plays, read, etc. So, when I made my first vlog, I did it by holding the camera in place as I took the bandages off. I did not know if the surgery would work. So, we would all find out together...

"Connected" Live at Saddle-Up L.A.

At the recent AIDS fundraiser, Saddle Up L.A., I sang two songs. One was "When You Care," which I posted about earlier. And the other was "Connected." So, here is that performance.

New AIDS Drug?

New Scientist News reports that a new class of AIDS drugs, still in the early stages of testing, is showing great promise by working in an entirely different way from other anti-HIV medication. According to the website, it's called a "maturation inhibitor." The way it works is by disrupting the formation of the protective protein cone it creates when it "buds out" from an infected cell. In the illustration below, you can see the cone-shaped capsid in pink protecting the RNA of the HIV. But with the new drug, called PA-457, that cone is crippled and the RNA is destroyed. (Click on illustration to see it more clearly):
Here is the quote from the site itself:

The latest research, in which the virus was examined under a microscope, shows that the drug binds to the capsid protein at a crucial stage in its manufacture (Journal of Virology, vol 80, p 5716). Normally, the capsid protein is clipped apart from a major structural protein called the gag protein, and is then assembled into a cone. PA-457 stops it being clipped off, causing it to form a leaky sphere that leaves the core RNA exposed (see Diagram). This cripples the virus, preventing it from infecting any other cells once it buds out from the host.

Previous lab experiments on infected human cells have shown that the drug defeats strains of HIV which are resistant to other anti-HIV drugs. A small human trial of the drug, reported last August, showed that when given on its own it rapidly clears most HIV from the blood, driving down the levels tenfold in a matter of hours.

For those who aren't familiar with HIV and how it works, "clearing the virus from the blood" is not a cure. Host cells which the virus has infected will stay infected and the virus will continue to try to replicate itself from within those cells. But with this new drug, the virus will be unable to infect more cells. Essentially, that's what most HIV drugs do now, but they disrupt the production of the virus in earlier stages of development. This one catches the virus at the last possible moment, and seems to be effective in people who are immune to most of the other drugs.

10 Yrs. Ago: The Zephyr Reading.

We have only one photo from this event. It's the bow at the end of the reading. I've included a photo (left) of Melrose Ave. (the location of The Zephyr) from our later "Big Voice" days here just to give you can see what it looks like.

I'm posting this diary entry from June 8, 1996 in its entirety. This was truly the reading that started everything for us in terms of getting The Last Session up and on its feet. When I reread it this morning, I was instantly propelled back to that day when my ear was clogged up, my arm was hurting from the IV, I was frantic that the keyboard had not arrived, we had cast members driving all the way from Palm Springs, and we had no idea if anyone was going to show up for a 10 o'clock Saturday morning staged reading on two days notice.

But as you will see, everything began to fall together. The room was packed to the rafters. The keyboard arrived five minutes before curtain. And though we barely had time for a run-through, the entire performance was electrified.

The best news about my health was still two days away. So at this point, I had high hopes that I was going to survive. But I was still very much prepared to face bad news if it came. The following is the diary entry and exactly what happened that fateful morning. All the equipment for the reading was borrowed from about five different sources and all of them had to arrive that morning, some from people we didn't even know. And who knew, ironically, that it would be an AIDS Walk that would delay the arrival of our keyboard until five minutes before curtain? (And none of us with cell phones.)

Saturday, June 8, 1996
At last! The reading at The Zephyr.

I slept a bit restlessly last night. Up a few times 'cause Louie had me peeing a lot! Plus I was full of energy just knowing we were going to be doing the show that day. Well, I woke up finally about 5. Rolled around a lot pretending like I would be able to go back to sleep. About 5:45 I capitulated and came into the living room and sat down at the computer to idle my hours away.

That's when I noticed that my ear was very blocked up. Shit. I was so hoping that after a long sleep, I'd be okay. I felt so much anxiety. Would I remember the songs? Would Yve be able to drive from the desert? Would the music stands show up? Did they have chairs for us to sit in? Would anyone show up to be in the audience? And if so, would they sit there looking at wondering what the fuck we were doing singing about AIDS in a musical? I was a wreck.

The first thing I saw when I sat down at the computer was a "computer stickie" on the screen telling me to wake Jim up by 8. I took my first Crixivan (on an empty stomach) and soon I heard Jim stirring upstairs. He's been sleeping on a futon in the loft because of his back -- and also because Louie whirrs too loudly for him to sleep in the same room with it.

So, he finally got up and both of us were shaking like leaves in a twister. We both kind of wandered around like lost children looking for their parents in a department store. What am I supposed to doing now? I kept asking myself. Also, I was waiting for Louie to finish feeding me so I could disconnect and go take a shower.

Finally, I got some tape and wrapped my arm in the long plastic glove which protects my PICC line insertion point, got in the shower and prayed for the steam to help my ears. It didn't. It also didn't relieve the knot in my stomach.

I sat down with the script to tape the pages of lyrics together so I wouldn't be flipping pages while trying to play when I realized that one of the songs was only half printed. So I ran to the computer...

...the clock is ticking...

..and printed out the new pages, cobbling them together and yelling at Jim to make more pages for the other actors. Finally, we grabbed the few props we wanted and raced to the car. On the way we went over Laurel Canyon Blvd. and my ear opened just a bit. I was so elated and I kept working it.

We got to the theater and, glory of glories, the girl I spoke to last night was there with the music stands, out front looking for us. We pulled up and -- well, one problem solved. Then Yve pulled up. Ah, next anxiety relieved. She gave me some Chinese balls as a gift and told me to roll them around in my hand. I did.

Then we went into the neon shop and rehearsed the new part of her song at the old out of tune upright they had there in the shop. Marjorie and Steve showed up and we did some more rehearsing and line changing, etc. We needed to do more but time was awasting!

David Robyn showed up with the PA system and we were all set to go except for one thing.

No keyboard.

We hurriedly called Terence, who was supposed to have brought one, but we only got a message machine.

10:55 am. Five minutes to go.

Well, someone said to take a credit card go buy one, and then return it. We all looked at him like he was nuts, but there went Yve running out the door with her card! I stopped her and told her, No. Thanks, but no time. No time. I'm totally out of my mind by now. I'm pacing outside in front. The room is full of people. When finally. FINALLY, Terence shows up apologizing profusely. We throw the keyboard together, take our places and start at last. (Ironically, we found out he had been held up because Santa Monica Blvd. had been closed off for the AIDS Bike Ride fundraiser from San Francisco.}

By now my ear was gone again. I couldn't hear at all out of my left ear, and my right ear was not 100%. By the time I got into the first song, Save Me A Seat, my mind was a million miles away. I knew people were there looking at me and I was singing a song, but it occurred to me that it might be rude to be having an ongoing conversation in your head while supposedly singing to these folks out there. And we had a house full.

So, I thought, how am I gonna force myself to settle down and concentrate? Then I suddenly remembered something. I was singing a song at this moment. I was about halfway through this song when I began to "listen" to the words coming out of my mouth.

The song is about my memorial service. The scenario has a church full of my friends "memorializing" me while I, in spirit form, am across the street at a bar, playing the piano, drinking a beer and singing about my life. At the end of the song "I" feel a bit guilty that I've left everyone alone over at the service, so I wander into the sanctuary and sit down. Then it occurs to me that, since I am a spirit, I can "go home" with each of my friends when it's all over.

If they think of me, I can be with them always, especially if they're feeling a bit lonely and just need a friend. The end of the lyric goes:

Then on a day when you feel lost or hurt
Go to the kitchen and get some dessert
Then sit at the table and eat
Just remember to save me a seat.

Please remember to save me a seat.

It was as if I could smell my all my friends' kitchens and see their drooping shoulders. In a flash I saw my friends laughing with me, crying with me, remembering me--and when that happened, I completely melted into the play.

It was the weirdest feeling. It's not like I was faking it or "trying to act." After all, I've never "acted" before! Well, once. Twice. I was in the Junior and Senior plays at Buna High School in Buna, Texas. There was no drama department. Once a year, the English teacher (very small school) would pick a silly comedy from Sam French play publishers and cast the show by just picking people to be in it. But I'd hardly call that "training" or "experience." But, on that stage in Hollywood on Melrose Ave. at approximately 11:15 a.m., I felt this weird change in my body and in my mind. As if Gideon descended from heaven and began to inhabit me -- as if he cast a spell over me. I could feel his depression. His fear. And I could feel how badly he wanted somebody to talk him out of committing suicide, despite his loud protests to the contrary. I just... well, just became Gideon.

I could feel his desperation to get these songs recorded while he still could.

It surprised me that the spell was not broken when the audience tried to interrupt the show with this most incredible, extended applause. And this spell continued through the entire reading. Oh, I felt rocky in a couple places and god knows I have a lot to learn. But they're mostly nice things, such as... What do you do when audience completely stops the show?

The first time it happened was at the end of The Group.

(I keep trying to describe The Group to people who haven't heard it. You can get a feel for it by reading the lyrics but you really have to hear it with the music in the context of the show).

So I get to the end of this rather elegiac indescribable song, the applause started -- so far, so good. But they wouldn't let me go onto the next scene. They just kept applauding. I didn't know what to do! Should I look at them? No! They don't exist.

Do I find some "spot" to look at? The booth? Hell, do I stand up and take a bow? (NEVER NEVER NEVER).

Then they did it again after Going It Alone.

And on and on it went. When we got to the new fight scene between Vicki and Gideon, Marjorie-the-actress-doing-Vicki broke down completely and almost didn't get through the scene.

I was afraid to look at the audience by then. I was trying to control myself. And of course Yve, playing Trish, was on her fifth Kleenex. The audience was sniffling a bit too. But we made it through and we survived to the end. And we endured all that "horrible" applause keeping us from getting home.

Afterward, everyone came up and hugged us all and told us all how wonderful we were. Yve and Marjorie were in tears. The audience was in tears. Jerry Gaither, a new friend I met through the computer, brought up flowers AND A CRUTCH (as in "break a leg").

Afterward, Gary and Linda, who run the theater, said we could have whatever we want as far as they were concerned. In fact, they said that some producers had come in and offered The Zephyr a big check to bring another show in. Sure money for them! But that they would actually forgo that money in favor of letting us do a mainstage run.

But after much talk and consideration, we decided that we would prefer to let them make their money with the other show -- it frankly took a lot of pressure off of us -- and, instead of trying to put a full production up in four weeks, do a "showcase" run first. That would be two shows a week. No reviews. A good chance to nurture the show and make changes between every performance bringing it to perfection.

And to add to that, they called Irene Oppenheim, told them all about what we wanted to do and she pledged some grant money right there on the phone!

And now, my head is spinning. It's about 5pm on Saturday as I write this and I am ready to just pass out. But I wanted to tell you all everything that happened. And I'll probably think of more later, but to say the least, we know now that we are on our way. We will develop this show. We will nurture this show, and we will build word of mouth until we have people clamoring to get in! (Or clamoring to get out!)

Either way, we are blessed and we are happy that we can share it all with you.

(Steve Schalchlin, Yve Evans, Marjorie Grau & Steven Wilde.)

A final note. One of my favorite moments happened in the courtyard of The Zephyr after all the audience went home and we were sitting with Gary and Linda discussing the future of the show. Gary looked at us and asked, "So, what you guys want to do with the show?"

I looked up at him, and sounding like a naïve Rube, said "Why, I want to go to New York!"

Years later, he recalled that moment. He said, "Here I was looking at this guy who seemed like he was five minutes from death, and he was looking up at me telling me that he was going to take a show to New York. I just shook my head and thought, inside, 'This guy isn't going last that long.'"

Gary, I'm sure you weren't the only one thinking that. Someone later said to me something that has stayed with me over the years -- and it was something I hadn't really thought about.

He said, "You gave people a chance to sit and stare at a person with AIDS."

He saw the puzzlement in my face and explained, "I don't mean that in a weird way. But think about it. In public, people aren't not really allowed to stare at people who are sick or disabled. You don't want to embarrass them or yourself. You don't want to be rude. Consequently, most people never really LOOK at people in that kind of condition, and by not looking, they can't really get emotionally involved. By getting on that stage, you gave us permission to look at AIDS, to see it in your eyes, to experience it in real time."

I hadn't thought about it that way but it made sense. I bet some people were really creeped out, in fact. I mean, I could not have looked worse. My eyes were sunk in, my arm was in a bandage, my arms were pencil thin, my face skeletal.

He continued. "What made it so affecting was that, whether it was you or not, the character of Gideon is someone we really like. We want him to live. You humanized AIDS for me and it made me want to do something about it. Every newscast about AIDS will now, for me, have your face attached to it. I won't be able to turn away."

It's saddens me to think that my friends and family were living so constantly with the fear that I might die any moment. That's why I wrote Going It Alone; as a love letter to them.

The question I had in my mind, though, was, "Would The Last Session work without this dying AIDS guy playing the lead role? Would it still be as powerful it was 'merely' an actor pretending to be a person with AIDS?" That's something we would have to wait to find out.

EDIT: Yve Evans, who played Tryshia is a world renowned jazz pianist and singer, composer, actress. Her website is http://www.yveevans.com/

Keeping The Issue Closeted

In a stunning insightful op-ed piece in the LA Times, David Link makes note of something very interesting about George Bush's speech about the proposed constitutional amendment against gay marriage.

"His Saturday radio address to the nation had no mention of gay couples — or even homosexual individuals."

Don't you find that odd and interesting? Or, as he puts it:

"Apparently, for the president, this is an argument of heterosexuals, by heterosexuals and for heterosexuals."

It put me in mind of one of another President who was afraid to tell the truth. How many years did Ronald Reagan go without mentioning AIDS, blythely allowing it to grow and spread, killing off as many gay men as possible before he finally came to grips with this disease that has now killed more people than any disease in history?

Funny how, when it comes to gay men and women, the closet -- SILENCE -- seems to be the most common factor. The pseudo-science groups that bolster the phony theories behind the exgay war against gay people do it by insisting that gay people do not, in fact, exist.

And in the gay marriage debate, apparently, for this President, gay people -- the ones who are being directly targeted by him and the right wing religious political forces -- also do not exist.

Well, if we don't exist, then why are they trying to change the consitution of the United States?

And why the skullduggery? I can only conclude the obvious. They are ashamed of themselves. Shame is why people hide. This is why the leaders of Exodus keep pretending that this issue isn't about gay people. Or, as Randy Thomas put it to me in an email, "You gays are so self-centered. You think this is all about you."

Well, yeah, Randy. It is all about us. Without us, you wouldn't be trying to pass this amendment. Without us, you wouldn't have a job. Without us, the President wouldn't have been making that speech. In his post about the subject on his blog, Randy is appalled at the tactics of Fred Phelpsian protestors screaming about hating gays. Well, Randy, there's one thing Fred has over you and your buddies and the President pretending this amendment isn't about gay marriage.

Between all of you, Fred is the honest one.

10 Yrs. Ago: The Zephyr Calls!

On June 5th, 1996, our lives changed.

When last we saw our intrepid proto-blogger, he had just been hooked up to an I.V. of nutrition (TPN) for 14 hours a day and had received his first dosage of a new experimental drug called Crixivan. Said hero had tried everything else under the sun, and these were last minute "salvage therapies," but he had nothing to lose. So what the heck. We join our hero as things begin to change very quickly. We join the diary in progress...

"I told you yesterday that through my friend, Lucy Hagan, I met "I.O.," a woman involved in theatre in L.A. and that she gave us a few names of people at different theaters who might be interested in The Last Session. Well, this morning about 10 o'clock, Jimmy got on the phone with one of those contacts, Gary Guidinger at the Zephyr Theatre here in Los Angeles."

The woman named I.O. was Irene Oppenheim. I hadn't used her name yet because she wasn't involved with the show and I didn't want to jinx anything.

Remember, this was one of very first internet diaries -- possibly even the very first -- that detailed the making of a musical from the ground up. Normally in a situation like this, you don't talk about this stuff for fear of, as I said, jinxing it. Bad show biz! But I felt, at the time, I had nothing to lose and I had no precedent to follow, so I was just making it up as I went along. It's hard being a pioneer!

Lucy Hagan is a singer/songwriter from my days at National Academy of Songwriters. Confined to a wheelchair, Lucy never let her physical limitation keep her from acting, writing, singing, performing and altogether making herself one of the most active and vital persons in my life at that time.

Gary Guidinger, who with partner Linda Tolliver, ran (and still runs) the Zephyr Theatre on Melrose told us that they had a play development series that was in three parts, beginning with him reading the script and approving it. But, after talking to us on the phone, he felt good about the show and offered a slot for a reading THAT VERY SATURDAY MORNING. IOW, we had to throw together a staged reading in three days.

"Jim said yes, of course. When Jim got off the phone, he looked like he'd seen a ghost. I was sitting blithely at the computer not realizing what was going on. I begged him to tell me the scoop. He did. Furiously we began calling the actors who had done the Cinegrill reading to see if we could get them."

So we drove down to the Zephyr and immediately fell in love with it. Then, Gary dropped this bomb on us:

"He said that he had an opening coming up in the weekend prime spot IN FOUR WEEKS. Could we put a production together in four weeks (assuming the reading goes well on Saturday)?...

"Jimmy and I drove back over the hill in a kind of daze. We had been looking for an opportunity to get a workshop up, but we were expecting to convert a recording studio, or rent a rehearsal hall, or do it in a barn somewhere. It was hysterical to see us in the car. We were both absolutely speechless. He kept saying, "I...I...I...am...I...can't..." and I would answer with about the same lucidity. Our minds were absolutely reeling. We drove to Kim and Ronda's to tell them. Kim implied that, if it looks good, he might be interested in producing."

Healthwise, I noted on June 3rd that, though my diarrhea was still raging out of control, I had gained four pounds of weight in my body. From the diary:

"I've been getting my nutritional supplements nightly from Louie and we've experienced no visible problems, thank God. Our main short-term goal is weight gain. I have gained about 4 pounds, but I don't want to jump to any conclusions and throw a parade yet. Monday and today have been days in which my you know what was also wildly out of control and that's been the thing that been killing me.

"I was hesitating using any heavy anti-diarrheal medications the past couple of days because--and those of you who read this regularly know this--but because of the strongly narcotic nature of those remedies. If I take them in the morning, I honestly am not functional for driving or for conversations with anyone but my closest friends.

"Tomorrow, Wednesday, I'll probably go on a crash course to stop it so I can get back on track. My health is my number one priority. I know it may not please the folks who believe that art should come first--and it doesn't mean I don't love our show, but my health means more to me than anything. As Susan Hayward once said, "I WANT TO LIVE!"

"Healthwise, the other problem I'm having is that I'm still deaf in my left ear. We've been treating it with antibiotics but there has been no improvement."

So, I wasn't ready to celebrate the weight gain since there was still so much wrong, but the show was on! I might be deaf in one ear with an I.V. drip hanging off my arm, but who cares? Someone wanted us to do our show!