Growing old with HIV - The Washington Post

Growing old with HIV - The Washington Post:

As HIV-infected adults live longer, they are increasingly affected by such chronic illnesses as heart disease, diabetes, kidney disease and osteoporosis, common problems among many older people.

But studies suggest that those with HIV may be at higher risk for some of those illnesses and may get them earlier than usual.

HIV causes the immune system to fight the virus, and that inflammatory state continuously damages organs, even when antiretroviral medications are taken, researchers said.


'via Blog this'

Starting Over.

The process of rebirth/renewal isn't a one-time thing. It's what we do every single time we decide to open our eyes. Every day we make a choice to live or to die. How many walking dead people do you know?

No wonder zombie shows are so big now. People love looking into the mirror.

Until they hate it. And then they'll switch back to vampires. Or fantasy heroes.

Meanwhile, they'll wake up again and make that choice. But how do you start? How does one start over even if you wanted to?

Well, it starts with that choice. Once you make it -- really make it -- the things you need will appear. You will find them.

We live in an age in which every possible piece of information is available on a simple touch screen.

If you cannot find it, it's because you haven't really chosen the reboot switch. You may want to have made it. You may have even told yourself that you want it.

But it means changing. Changing your habits. It may be as simple as deciding to not just clean the house, but to create a schedule that forces you to keep it that way. Over and over and over.

The choice isn't merely in your head. It's in your fingers and your feet.

Casting is happening in London.

It's all happening right now. They're casting The Last Session.

It's very exciting.

My New Meds.

My new anti-virals will be Sustiva and Epzicon, which, I think, is the technical term for a sound effect for the TV show, Wipeout .
"Sound an Epzicon when the giant hand hits the fat lady into the water!"

Poison Darts Part 2.

Good news and bad news.

The bad news is that, upon follow-up, there is still blood in my urine. Dr. Tony says it's time to change my HIV meds, which will happen this week. I've been dreading it because I've been successfully using Atripla -- a three-med "cocktail" -- since it first came out. But, as I blogged before, one of those ingredients, though effective against HIV is, in his words, "a little poison dart to the kidneys."

The new combo will be two pills. One containing two meds and a third in the other pill. The thing about these pills is that they are a continuous form of chemotherapy. The side effects of which are slightly different for each person. I don't know how they'll react in my body. I dread it. But it's inevitable.

In DC this week, for the first time, the International AIDS Conference is in the U.S. -- held back all these years because of some stupid law (enforced by the evil of a racist, homophobic bigot American legislator named Jesse Helms, who had an ongoing affair with a black woman, who has now been removed from this planet by the God he pretended to follow) that prevented anyone with HIV from entering our country. A policy that lingered long past his overdue demise.

But the good news is that my blood sugar levels plunged down to normal range. My endocrinologist said it can take up to a year for the A1C to do that well. Mine went from over 9 to just over 6 in only a few months. He told me, "You're my best patient."

I love being the best patient.

When I started to write this blog, I realize I haven't posted in almost a month. For that I apologize. But during these dog days of intense heat and humidity, it feels like there's little to report except that I've been eating as well as I can, exercising... not at all. My one failing.

But... I've been writing music and lyrics. Writing and writing and writing. Putting myself through boot camp, almost. Every morning, focused intensely on learning, learning, learning.

Also, with the announcement of the revival of The Last Session in London, the producers have been furiously casting, and sharing with us, the possibilities. We will have news soon. It should all be tied up within the week.

So, think about me ingesting these new meds, even as I think of the many in this world who do not have access. Send a little prayer our way. And while you're doing that, I'll ask forgiveness for my ugly thoughts about certain southern dead legislators. It's never a good thing to cast negativity into the world. But I'm as human as the next person and sometimes it's better to just get it out.

Peace, love and justice to all. 

Andy Griffith Defined Family and America.

The Andy Griffith Show was as much a part of the landscape of my youth as the front yard. Sometimes I thought it was boring because nothing much happened, but if Barney and Andy were in a scene, magic.

Not just because they were beyond funny. But because the warmth was palpable. The feelings of love and respect the characters had for each other was completely believable.

I felt that love in my own home, growing up. It's not that we lived the Andy Griffith Show. It's that it felt familiar and comfortable and true. People are that gentle, kind,  honest and sweet.

And "No Time For Sergeants." Where he manages to make an outrageously Southern yokel character not just believable, but like the only sane person in the world.

Later in life, I discovered "A Face In The Crowd."

Relentless in its exposure of celebrity. A character with no redeeming qualities. Even down to his harsh laugh, which irritates and yet still takes over the room.

An indelible career. A great artist.

If I had a TV network, I'd run these two movies back-to-back, all day long. They are as American as Mark Twain. And maybe just as profound.

BACKSTAGE at '54 Below'

Steve Schalchlin & Jim Brochu attending, and performing at BACKSTAGE at 54 Below,
the hot new night club's Sunday afternoon show.
Photo credit: Russ Weatherford.

Jim Brochu performing at BACKSTAGE at 54 Below,
the hot new night club's Sunday afternoon show.
Photo credit: Russ Weatherford.

Steve Schalchlin performing at BACKSTAGE at 54 Below,
the hot new night club's Sunday afternoon show.
Photo credit: Russ Weatherford.

Rufus Finds TLS Tasty.

Today, I'm laid up with a sore throat. Luckily, I was able to slide into my doctor's office between appts. to get a test and a prescription. So, all is well. I just have to stay still, warm and quiet. But, I was feelin' a big down when I saw this:

That adorable face belongs to a Rufus, who lives with a friend of mine, J.R. Stuart, an acting coach at Indiana University Southeast, an actor, producer, director and god knows what else -- we ALL have to be all of those things in this business. Apparently, Rufus loved it. He commented, particularly, on sweet insouciance of the binding glue.

With the renewed attention coming to TLS by the London production, I'm starting to get more and more inquiries -- especially from people in college towns. TLS has great educational value about AIDS and does it in a humorous and entertaining, almost family friendly way. Maybe not for young kids, though I remember the 10 year old in Laguna who sat in the front seat, riveted.

When Rob Harris asked me what I "saw" for a London production, I told him he could do it on a street corner with a banjo, if that's all he had. Meaning, spend as little or as much on the physical production as you want. Or as famed songwriter Marilyn Bergman once said at an ASCAP musical theater workshop, when a writer was describing how the stage would move, and where the lighting would hit, "Don't talk to me 'set!'"

It's about the words and the music, and the great characters -- and, finally, the actors themselves, who will take it away from all of us every night, transforming it through their eyes. It's very exciting to even think about!

I remember, back in L.A., I was being interviewed by a writer for a local AIDS newsletter. When I told him that not only did I survive by writing these songs, but that the show would be opening in New York in a few months. His jaw hit the floor.

He said, "Do you know how many people have drawers full of plays that have never been seen on a stage? Who've been writing for years. And you're opening in New York?"

At the time, it seemed like such a natural progression, I hadn't really thought about it like that. Doesn't EVERYONE get their musical produced in New York, Off-Broadway? I think I was too sick at the time to give it that much thought.

But the highest honor is knowing Rufus found us chewy delicious.

Remembering the Plague.

This new production of The Last Session brings back a lot of painful memories. Andrew Sullivan has been discussing this on his blog.

People forget that HIV decimated the immune system - but people actually died from the opportunistic infections. These "OI"s were something out of Dante's Hell. So many drowned to death from pneumocystis. Or they would develop hideous KS lesions, or extremely painful neuropathy (my "buddy" screamed once when I brushed a bedsheet against the tip of his toes), or CMV where a friend of mine had to inject himself in the eyeball to prevent going blind, or toxoplasmosis, a brain degenerative disease where people wake up one day to find they can't tie their shoe-laces, and their memories are falling apart. Within the gay community, 300,000 deaths amounted to a plague of medieval dimensions. Once you knew your T-cells were below a certain level, it was like being in a dark forest where, at any moment, some hideous viral or bacterial creature could emerge and kill you. And for fifteen years there was nothing to take that worked, just the agonizing helplessness of waiting to die, and watching others get assaulted by one terrifying disease after another.

300,000 deaths. No immune system. Death coming in the form of an unknown virus or bacteria that might suddenly arise.

Pneumocystis is what nearly killed me. My t-cells, where "normal" is 1200, were at about 40. Or less. It's hard to remember. After 21 days of I.V. pentamidine, which ruined the taste in my mouth and had me nauseous the whole time, usually lying in a zoned-out daze until the day Jim took me home, hardly able to stand -- a barely animated skeleton, I had to relearn how to walk.

But that's not the story. The story is about the resurrection, the comeback.

In The Last Session, the character of Gideon wants to end his life. It takes place in 1996, just before the drug cocktail. There were few therapies that would work, and for a few months. He is exhausted from the fight. All he wants is control over his life. Control over when to bow out. Though he's hiding this decision from his friends, it's hard not to think that he called them together for more than just a goodbye session.

For me, I never felt suicidal. Not like that. I credit my friends for this. They simply wouldn't let me go.

But how sad to imagine that if I had been like Gideon, if I had killed myself, I wouldn't be here to have seen The Big Voice or Zero Hour or, not, this hot new production. I am so anxious and excited to see that they will do with it.

People have asked me how much involvement Jim and I will have, and the answer is very little. Since Rob Harris, the producer, told me he saw the original production, he understands the piece. He'll keep it on track.  I feel totally safe with him involved.

I also had a great meeting with Tom Turner, the young musical director. He is a brilliant pianist and singer, himself. In fact, he came and sang with us in the sanctuary choir at Christ Church Bay Ridge, while he was here. And I couldn't tell you about any of it! He and I had a great chance to thumb through the songs, and he was terrific. He seemed to "get" the style immediately.

That leaves Guy Retallack, the director. He's going to be approaching this from a totally fresh perspective. He and the others have asked us a few questions about how we approached certain moments -- and I sent them all additional notes about the characters, but we told them to feel free to follow their own vision. My sense is that Guy wants to make it as real as possible, perhaps eschewing some of the theatrical conceits we've used over the years.

IOW, a grittier, more real type of approach. And I say go for it. Try anything. Put it in front of an audience and see if it works.

Truth is, I've been involved in many bare bones productions where we did much the same thing -- mostly because we had no choice. Sometimes, all we had were a few lights and some music stands. It will be interesting to see this choice done with a first class lighting and production team.

Because The Last Session was born from truth.

You don't have to pretend. Just play it and the people will respond.

They always have.

And, best of all, (for me, anyway), I'm here to see it!

Why Teach Music?

"The Last Session" will open in London, Fall 2012.

In a brand-spanking new production, Climar Productions in London will produce the first U.K. production of "The Last Session." Ticketing info. The Playbill story.

This is news I've been sitting on for months, dying to tell everyone. But it's not just bad luck to announce something too early, if there's a glitch of some kind before the last "i" is dotted, you just end up disappointing everyone.

Even though it's been 15 years since it debuted Off-Broadway, I get emails and random handshakes (when out and about) from people I never knew who tell me that the show had a profound impact on them that has resonated through the years.

One of these people is a guy -- a producer in London -- named Rob Harris.

Rob wrote us a few months ago, saying that back in 1997, he and his partner, Simon, were visiting from London. Simon had gone to see a show that Rob -- who was a young agent back then -- wasn't interested in, so he wandered over to the TKTS booth to see what was discounted on the boards.

As he stood in line, he said someone came over and gave him a flyer to The Last Session. Rob looked it over and decided to see it. He tells me he was so taken by the piece, he took Simon the next night. And he loved it even more.

These days, the TKTS booth is a tourist attraction, surrounded by marketing teams handing out coupons and tickets to shows and attractions in New York City. Back then, there were only a few. So, our team of producers and creators each took turns, myself included. Who knows who handed him that flyer? It could have been me!

"I decided that day," he said, "that if I ever become a producer, I would produce this show."

Last year, he saw that dream come true, producing, to great acclaim, a musical called "Thrill Me, The Leopold and Loeb Story."

And then, out of the blue, we get his note about producing TLS.

It'll be interesting to see how people take to it after 15 years. Back then, though we had a healthy run, many people avoided the show because the pain of the AIDS crisis was still fresh. Now, it's a moment in history. A snapshot of an era.

Thanks, Rob. It's so nice to know that TLS lives.

Mark Evanier's Nail-Biting Ray Bradbury Story.

If you are a comic book geek, or were ever a Ray Bradbury fan, or comic book geek, especially in the 50s/60s/70s, (or both!) Mark Evanier is recounting a story about a historic meeting he precariously arranged with the late Ray Bradbury and horror comic publisher, Al Feldstein (and Julius Schwartz).

It starts here, continues here and here. And he's left us at a fabulous cliffhanger.

EDIT: Which now here in part 4.

Ann Rutherford (Gone With The Wind) Has Died.

Here is a video I made of her, once, with filmmaker Rick McKay asking her questions.

Space Shuttle Enterprise Entering New York

Space shuttle coming into New York City.

Zachary Maitlin is going to be a star.

Zachary Maitlin as Oliver. Irish Rep benefit at the Shubert.

I was standing in Shubert Alley just after the Irish Rep's annual big musical all-star fundraiser, held at the Shubert Theater. Two friends of ours from Chicago were in, visiting. Two highly talented directors.

Zachary Maitlin, Charlotte Moore,
Music Director Mark Hartman.

"Where did they find that kid?" he asked." I never see this show done by someone so naturally himself. Usually it's done by some older boy who's small, and who's a real Broadway type." Meaning, someone who looks "trained."

Zachary had this unabashed ability to just stand and be himself. Quiet. Unassuming. Real. Would that we all had the ability to just stand and be ourselves, quiet and unassuming.

I thought, wait. That sounds like the bonus round! How can a kid this young already be in the bonus round? Or is this how we start, and then we circle back around and find it again?

(Anyway, for the record, I'm not professionally associated with this kid, nor is this some kind of publicity stunt for anyone. I don't know if he had a manager or an agent, or they just found him. But these benefits rarely get press or reviews. In the case of the Irish Rep, they do this once a year. Find a great old musical and stage it with full orchestra and Broadway stars. And I thought, if he really is just a kid, this will give the relatives something to coo over.)

Jim Brochu, Zachary Maitlin, Dewey Caddell.

This is a benefit Jim loves doing. A couple of years ago, "Brigadoon." He wanted to do it last year, but he was doing "Zero" out of town.

For us, too, it feels like a family affair. Mark Hartman, the musical director is not just a friend and one of the most skilled and talented men in New York, but he also manages to be one of the kindest people in the Broadway community, a trait he shares with Brian Stokes Mitchell, who was playing Fagin. Brian, or Stokes, and we go way back to Los Angeles and a musicals writing course we took together one summer.

I don't know Melissa Errico or James Barbour that well, so I can't speak for them. I don't need to. Their powerful performances spoke for themselves. That same friend who noticed Zachary said, "I never realized how good she is. I guess she just needs that one starring vehicle."

The list of first class musicians who would do anything for Mark, like learning, rehearsing and then performing in a benefit on their night off, countless. This is why nights like this are so special. This is why fans fly in from all over the country just to donate their time in the chorus. Included in this fabulous ensemble, was an entire boys choir from Philadelphia en route to sing for a Nobel Prize winner's presentation, the Keystone State Boychoir.

Since I came to musicals later in life, "Oliver" was not really a part of my cultural DNA, though I was vaguely aware of the big songs from the show, "Food, Glorious Food" and "As Long As He Needs Me," I don't think I ever really saw it. I remember the movie, kinda.

What you cannot describe is how these songs sound with the full orchestra. Those strings! Wow, I can feel them in my body! It's so rich and full and natural and real. All those voices filling the theater.

Good guys. Bad guys. Bad girls turned good and murdered for it. And Jim Brochu coming in at the last minute and saving the day. What could be be bad?

John Treacy Egan and Kathy Fitzgerald achieved the impossible:
They stole the show completely away from the children.
rehearsing "Oliver!" Irish Rep benefit. Shubert Theater NY 2012

James Barbour, Zachary Maitlin, Brian Stokes Mitchell, Lance Chantiles-Wertz
rehearsing "Oliver!" Irish Rep benefit. Shubert Theater NY 2012

Brian Stokes Mitchell rehearsing as Fagin in "Oliver!"
Irish Rep benefit. Shubert Theater NY 2012

Melissa Errico
rehearsing "Oliver!" Irish Rep benefit. Shubert Theater NY 2012

James Barbour murders Melissa Errico.
rehearsing "Oliver!" Irish Rep benefit. Shubert Theater NY 2012

Jim Brochu and Zachary Maitlin rehearsing "Oliver!" Irish Rep benefit. Shubert Theater NY 2012

Curtain call of the Irish Rep benefit Shubert Theater NY 2012
From my seat in the upper right corner of the Loge.
And, no, I did not shoot, nor try to shoot any video, so don't ask. 

After the show I stood in Shubert Alley. Then we went across the street to Sardi's. Jim has known Max, the owner, who began there as a dishwasher and is the coolest human being alive, for 40 years.

Shubert Theater 2012.

Shubert Alley.

"Hey, we're not on the bus!"
That's Broadway's legendary John McMartin at Sardi's after the show posing with Jim Brochu.
He is referring to an incident on a city bus. The day our incredible New York Times review
came out for "The Big Voice: God or Merman?"
He was reading it just as we stepped on -- he was headed to his own matinee --
 and he said something like "Kings of New York!"

Brian Stokes Mitchell and Jim chat after the show.

There is a picture of myself with my longtime TLS fan (and friend), TeKay TK. But it's on his camera. I'll post it when he sends it to me.

And that was our big day. And all through this, Jim is suffering from back pain, a pinched nerve in his shoulder blade that runs all the way down to his pinky. Stokes said he had the same thing. So, he showed Jim some exercises, and I get to be the nurse!

In fact, I think I hear my patient calling. Pardon me, Ethel. I'm wanted in surgery.

Calling Out Kolecki.

I stood up at choir rehearsal yesterday morning, interrupting the gentle, friendly chatter of the singers, just after Mark -- our conductor -- stepped out to find copies of some ancient hymnal, the only one that contains a certain arrangement of a song written in 1855, which Fr. Hamblin had designated as the communion hymn. (The hymn, btw, was musically complex and just gorgeous, written by Bonar, which fellow tenor Stephen Wilde and I decided he wrote just to counteract the effect of playground ridicule he must have endured for having a name that sounds like boner -- which will give you the 'tenor' of our level of humor).

In a very stern, sober voice, I loudly proclaimed, "If anyone here finds a piece of sheet music with the name 'Kolecki' on it, it is to be immediately destroyed! Do not sing it! Do not even touch it!  I came in here and saw a Psalm with Paul Kolecki's name on it! I'm the court composer here! And I'm calling you out Kolecki! What is going on behind my back??"

Paul Kolecki (a young singer and writer who came to the choir through Mark Janas' opera community outreach program at Manhattan School of Music; we are also in Andy Gale's acting class together) rose from the bass section, doubled up his fists and challenged me to a Psalm-down.

"Okay, buddy, we're on!"

By this time, the choir was laughing at us, knowing we were putting them on.

But what Paul and I -- and fellow choir member, Stephen Elkins -- are doing is trying to find fun ways to incite each other to compose more music.

A bro-down throw-down!

Plus, the image of characterizing the writing of sacred music like a professional wrestling match is an image that makes me laugh.

"I guess we're going to have to have a kyrie-off and a sanctus-off, you bastard!"

I wonder if we should design garish gym-locker type posters.


UPDATE: In the subway after church, "Kolecki" walked up and really threw down. He said, "A shack is a poorly built structure that can be blown down by the buzz of a blow-fly." I had no response. I'd been made.