"The Normal Heart" Stirs up Images of the Past

.....I recently watched "The Normal Heart," the HBO movie recounting the early days of the AIDS epidemic in New York City.  As I don't have cable and HBO isn't available here anyways, I had to order the DVD.

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.....I've seen an array of films on AIDS in the past.  Once again, I found myself feeling a gamut of emotions.  I've written previously of music's ability to transport me, like a time machine, to a specific time and place.   When I heard Bryan Ferry and Roxy Music, I was there; the long, extended golden sunsets of summer and nights at the alternative dance club.  But I remember something else---the phone call from my friend Brenda, in which she recounted the news article  her mother had handed her.  It was about a gay cancer.  I dismissed  it as some scare tactic because, after all, cancer can't discriminate.  Even though most of my friends were LGBT before that term was even coined, nobody gave the story any thought.

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.....It soon became apparent that the party was over.   Years later, I met David, who was a long time survivor of the disease.  Unfortunately, the cocktail had yet to be discovered.  When I watched "The Normal Heart," I was reminded of him, as he, like a character in the film, had been in the military.  This was obviously at a time when not only did a person not ask and not tell, but their ass would justifiably (according to the government)  be out the door.  No recourse, no appeal.  His trade had been construction.

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.....There are snippets of things that flash back to me more then others.  When he reached a certain point, he had to give up his apartment and was granted housing in an AIDS apartment/ complex.   He still maintained a very positive outlook.  This was a man who had great talent in decorating and we had talks about how he was going to fix it up.  He wanted to convert the ordinary windows to a stained glass motif.  We were going to hit  the largest fabric store to purchase items to transform the place.  He never again had the strength to walk that distance.

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.....This complex had a roof top deck that allowed residents to sit outside.  It wasn't the patios of  his favoured restaurants and bars, but it was something.  The sunshine was warm up there.  One of the other residents was on the patio---sitting by himself.  I could tell he was listening to us as we joked and we managed to get him to join in.   I ran into him a few times as I walked around the city after my friend died.  This  very good looking guy who was only in his twenties was always alone.  Such was the nature of the disease for some people.

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.....I remember the time, when he was still living in his own place, that David felt well enough to go out on the town.  He took one glance at me and decided that I needed more make up and a different look.  Despite my protests, he proceeded to give me a make-over.  He had everything in the apartment for the job.  He perked up, like a man jolted with a Red Bull infusion, when he received a wolf whistle as we walked down the street.  As they say, God is in the details.  Likewise, happiness truly is found in the little things.

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.....The hospital he ended up in was a good one, and the ward with AIDS patients had great staff, but when we were in the cafeteria, I recall still the looks we got one day.  One of the problems with the disease is a reduction in appetite, and when David suddenly expressed a desire for a banana split, Scott and myself went with him to see what we could do.  They had ice-cream, bananas and some nuts.  David and I set about slicing and dicing and making this thing work.  He took a bite and it wasn't quite right.  He handed me a sample and I tried it.   I looked up and saw a nurse---a NURSE---looking at me aghast.  Back then, the people with AIDS had a very definite look.  It wasn't just a weight loss in the same manor that people with cancer might get.  There was a certain look in their eyes and a muscle wasting in the face.  The nurse obviously saw that he was such a patient and was shocked that I'd taste anything from his plate.  I couldn't believe her ignorance; it wasn't going to jump from one end of his plate to the other.  I was angry and glad that David had not witnessed  this exchange, but it made me realize the extent of what people had to deal with.

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.....It was because of this sort of thing  that people in the area took action.  At Christmas, the festive  displays included pink lit  triangles on the balconies.  The red ribbons represented more then pretty wrap when they were hung.

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.....I think of David often, and how his mother is doing.   I had met her at the hospital and at the Celebration of his Life.  I felt her discomfort as she tried to come to terms with it all.  She loved her son more then anything, yet she came from a small town and was a devout Catholic.  It grieved me that his children were not there, as he had several.  He never spoke ill of his ex-wife, but after he had come out, she had kept the children away from him.  What years they had missed with this talented, giving and loving man who cared for them immensely.  He had their picture on display.

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.....I think of David when I read that HIV is again on the increase amongst some age demographics.  How needless, when not only do we have condoms but there is Truvada.  Should a condom break, or a person not use one due to drunkenness, people can ask for the post exposure prophylactic.  Yes, the cocktail exists today, but the drugs don't work on everybody and there are side effects.  As to the medication, the earlier one takes it, the better the outcome.  People should get tested if they think they've engaged in high risk activity.  Trust me, it isn't a big deal.  I had an accidental work exposure and had to get tested a while back.  I live in a small town and there's still more stigma on women.  Nobody at the blood clinic gave me a second glance.  We lost so many valuable voices that never got the chance to make their statements.  We don't need to have it happen again.

How Many Twin Peaks References Can You Find?

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I've written of my love of "Twin Peaks" before and this upcoming series looks like it's giving a sly wink to the fans.  In watching this trailer I caught many a reference.  The thumbs up and A-Ok a character gives?  Remember the old guy when special agent Dale was shot at the Great Northern Lodge?  And for those of you who actually watched "Fire Walk with Me," the annoying civil servant from hell is brought back to life here.  Instead of having the cherry pie so divinely made by Norma, we now have rum raison ice-cream.  There's a woman with a quirky voice, a shot of a river and the omnipresent rotating blades of the sinister ceiling fan.  This needs to be a drinking game.  I do believe the geeks (like myself) will like this one.
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I've posted one of these photos before, but here is the town of Wayward Pines, in the flesh.
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A SAD HOBBY

`````I really enjoy watching documentaries, and some while back I came upon a BBC production called "My Fake Baby." It was on the topic of reborns; dolls which look like actual babies. Until watching this show, I hadn't a clue as to the interest in these dolls. I knew people collected dolls, much as some people collect spoons, or beer cans of the world. Watching the documentary, however, I realized that there was a sad edge to some of the fans of the dolls.
`````One of the women, who was older, was crying on camera. She held up a photo and spoke of the little boy she had lost. As it turns out, the boy in the picture was her Grandson. At first I thought that he might have died. He had moved away to New Zealand, and as she lived in England, she no longer saw him on a daily basis. When she held the doll, she stroked him and made references to how much the toy reminded her of the missing child.
`````Another woman was going to travel to the United States to pick up the newest arrival. She would literally push her pram about town, and pretend to feed it with an item which resembled formula. By the way, this came from a Dior bottle. There was a scene in which she went shopping, not for doll clothing, but for actual infant clothes at a high-end boutique and dropped a wad of cash.
`````The blond woman who sells the dolls relates how she got into it and states that she missed the attention that having a new born brings. She's very attractive and this comment lead me to believe that she might just be the sort of woman who needs to be the centre of attention. She was single and already had several young children of her own.
`````In each of these cases, there seemed to be some void that the dolls filled. Many of us have hobbies, and it's a fantastic way to pass the time. There's a problem when the edges of reality begin to be blurred and the hobby interferes with the here and now. It can happen in other ways; those people who move into hoarding, for example. But, these people are treating an inanimate object with the emotions usually reserved for other beings (human or animal). Are they scared to make that connection? Is there something else going on, such as loneliness?
`````I was astonished, when doing some research, as to how many websites are devoted to this topic. The posters often have names such as "so and so's mommy." There are videos on Youtube about the arrival home of the newest doll. I think it says something about the alienation in our society today that adults need to find fulfillment in this way.
`````By the way, the video I have posted makes reference to another documentary, which I have also watched and which is highly disturbing. This one is about men who can find love only with adult sized plastic dolls. They blame women for not accepting their looks, which is a cop-out. In watching the documentary, I noted that it was poor social skills, bad English, etc that would have turned people off. Women are not as image driven as men are; they are the ones who are apt to reject their counterparts merely on appearance. I highly recommend that video, but be prepared to be disturbed. If I recall correctly, the documentary is called "Guys and Dolls."

Reborn Doll Video Part Two

SURVIVOR SHIVERS

`````A word on the Survivor TV series here. I cancelled my cable as I was fed up with reality television. Why is every one of these shows set in a tropical locale? That's actually a rhetorical question as the answer is obvious. There's a lot of beautiful places on this planet where this show could base itself. Not all of them exist between the Tropic of Cancer and Capricorn.

`````If they really want to have these people do anything remotely challenging or approaching true problem solving, how about sticking them in a colder climate for once? Let's see them actually work at building shelter, gathering wood for fire and staying warm? I'll tell you why it won't happen. It's not sexy to watch somebody who's bundled up like Nanook of the North. None of these contestents, or very few at least, look like real people. Somehow they all want to find their niche in "the industry." They're models or gym rats. Between the peroxide, botox and silicone, they are a hazardous waste site all unto themselves. It's a place where the vapid, vicious girls of high school have formed a team with the muscled and mental jocks. It's my version of Sartre's "No Exit." The hellish nightmare from which I cannot awaken.

`````The Survivor of the North would not work because most of these people don't have the smarts to rub two sticks together. When we put them in a bikini and call running over a log in a lagoon a challenge, it may distract the viewer in the same way a crow is distracted by a shiny object. It really isn't all that hard, though. Now, trucking in snow or taking them to the top of a mountain and having them build an igloo so that they wouldn't freeze as a challenge is hard (cue evil laughter at this point). The viewer puts up with alot more whining when it's done by hot looking, half naked people. Not so when it's a person in a parka with soot on their face. They all look 300 pounds in Northface Gear and whining becomes, well...just like one's home life and not so endearing. Viewers would disappear like flies under the ultraviolet zapper.

`````Oh yes, the flies. Horse flies, black flies, deer flies, mosquitoes, hornets and wasps. I'm glad that I didn't forget about them. It's not always cold in the northern climes. It can get darn nice in the day time, and one of the women might get it into her head to use that as an excuse to strip down. After all, doesn't everybody gather wood in their bra and panties? There would probably be some ensuing scandal because they'd be trying to bribe one of the tech or crew guys; sexual favours for a can of DEET spray. I digress, but why do the boom and camera guys always have to have cutsie nicknames (Mike "the terror" Peterson). Read the credits sometimes and you'll see what I mean.

`````Seriously, as a Girl Guide, we had to carry heavy white canvas tents, ground sheets and rope with which to lash sticks in order to hold up that darned canvas. We had to dig trenches around the tent, which slept several people. If little girls could do it, I would think Mr Musclehead and adult women could do it, plastic implants or not. I do forsee a broken acrylic nail or two, especially if they have the fake dingle-ball attachments (as I call all the bells and whistles some women stick onto their nails). Come on Survivor, give it a shot.

MAURY POVICH'S DAYS ARE NUMBERED

What is poor Maury Povich to do with himself? The mainstay, his life's blood has been removed from his hands and made available to the common man. No longer will the masses have to come crawling and throw themselves upon the court of public ridicule in seeking answers. Nope. The answer is as simple as wandering into your nearest drugstore.
So, just what is it that has the writers of the Maury show having to seek new topic ideas? This morning I was flipping through a magazine when I saw an advertisement for a home DNA testing kit. No, it's not a CSI kit to help you figure out if OJ did it or not. It's a paternity testing kit.
My mind instantly rattled off a long list of questions. Right off---what's the etiquette behind this? I doubt Emily Post had to deal with it. How does one go about rounding up the usual suspects? Would they advize that one make sure that firearms and alcohol are not involved?
I also suspect that this product is probably not running its ad in every magazine out there. I bet they have a target audience and it isn't the people who read "The New Yorker" or "Martha Stewart". Which of course leaves them open to accusations of stereotyping and profiling as John Edwards did have that love child in the very same manner as that grammatically challenged girl that used to run screaming off of Maury's stage when the negative results came in.
I also have to wonder what happened to shame. I guess I have to blame reality television but we seem to have confused fame with infamy. As long as our names are out there for fifteen minutes, we don't really care what the context is. Then there's the trickle down effect and what began with some slag flashing her breasts on Big Brother ends with teens posting risque photos on their Facebook page. I remember when I was in highschool. I hoped I wouldn't bump into anybody if I had to buy a box of Kotex. How do you buy a Paternity Testing Kit, especially in a small town, without everybody kknowing about it? The town cryer would find it difficult not to start a betting pool as to actual lineage. I bet the kids would be teased mercilessly in about five minutes (as that's how fast it would take for the word to get around).
I also wonder how many of these kits will be bought by the paranoid nutbar types who think their wife is cheating merely because she is being kind to the elderly 80 year old next door. Given that lab mistakes do happen, I can forsee Mr Psycho killing his wife.
Better living through chemistry? There already seems to be enough problems with reading something as simple as a home pregnancy kit. Besides, it's kind of fun trying to figure out just whether or not that eighth guy tested might be the one. I'll leave it up to Maury. Besides, how else will those people get their free, overnight stay at the Holiday Inn in Chicago?