THE AGE OF AIDS
I remember going to a dinner party around 1983 it must have been — I didn’t know the two hosts but had been invited by a guy I was seeing at the time and he was friends with one of them from work.
It was a dinner for about eight guests and the hosts and when we arrived it became immediately apparent that the host whom my date did not know was suffering from “The Gay Cancer” or what had been known as GRID until earlier that same year.
Now it’s called AIDS of course.
All of the guests were gay men and you could feel the palpable sense of fear that emanated from the entire group of guests when it became obvious what it was that our host was suffering from.
One couple actually said they wouldn’t be able to eat there and left the dinner party and another person, an insanely sexy blond dancer from the Paul Taylor Dance Company {whom I ended up fucking about a year later}, asked that his food be served on paper plates with plastic cutlery.
I stayed and ate on the good china that I was offered and used the good silverware, but I will admit that I was wondering the entire time if doing so would end up being the death of me.
Both dinner party hosts were dead within 18 months and I learned a couple of years later that the dancer from Paul Taylor whom I dated for a while, and who asked that his food be served on paper plates, died from a nasty CMV infection in the charity ward of St. Vincent’s Hospital — after first going blind and then completely insane.
Of course, we all learned later that you couldn’t get AIDS by eating from the dinner plate of someone who was HIV positive.
March 10th, 2010 at 9:32 am
Scott, can you share with us how in 25 years things have changed for you with the advancement in treatment for HIV? It still amazes me to know people who have gone from taking literally dozens of pills a day down to two or three at most….often with no or minimal side-effects. Yet, people are still dying which I don’t think is really discussed at all any more in the gay community.
March 10th, 2010 at 10:36 am
i had a friend who went home to die. After he’d eaten a meal at his aunt’s house, she soaked all of her china, silverware and crystal in undiluted bleach for a full day. i’m fairly sure the china and silverware were ruined . . . served her right.
March 10th, 2010 at 10:37 am
This is a fascinating and sad and wonderful post. I hate the almost casual attitude toward HIV/AIDS that many queers have today. They didn’t ’see’ how this plague shaped the gay community and lack the appreciation of this valuable part of our history. Thank you for sharing this.
March 10th, 2010 at 11:13 am
Georgio watch BIE in the coming days for more Age of AIDS posts and your question may be answered for you.
March 10th, 2010 at 11:59 am
I can understand the fear people had in the past. No one knew enough.
Overall, these stories are so sad and horrible; yet, people still play Russian Roulette with their lives.
March 10th, 2010 at 12:26 pm
How about: nurses who wouldn’t go into the wards; or the restaurant that went from lines out the door on a Wednesday to empty in a month because the owner and staff was gay, not ill just queer; and my personal fave…hospital admins not honoring power of attorney and let partners of decades make decisions or even into the room.
March 10th, 2010 at 1:00 pm
Looking forward to reading you insight…thanks Scott!
March 10th, 2010 at 3:56 pm
I didn’t have a large circle of gay friends, but I lost most of those I had — including the man I loved most and a dear friend 6 wks apart in 1986.
Then, there was the period where gay designers were often not hired in the garment biz, because their health might be costly — one hears that a certain Calvin went for voice lessons, so as to sound less queer to bankers.
Some cunt from a rude part of the world (or maybe a couple of them from a few parts)
told me I probably had AIDS, to get back at me for criticizing them.
I know of a self-loathing gay HIV doctor who is addicted to meth and to low life whores of color, with the obvious result.
TO THE YOUNGER GUYS — yes, it was motherfucking scary and depressing for years. I spoke to someone who is 21 yrs poz this week: yeah, there are meds, but it could turn on him at any time, so DON’T FUCKING GET INFECTED!!
IF there is an eternity, I hope our friends spend it on a lovely beach, without troubles.
March 10th, 2010 at 6:07 pm
What I remember seeing that I don’t see now is guys with canes, thin, like really old people, in their twenties and thirties – struggling to walk and in obvious pain siting down, often attended by a friend. The Kaposi’s. The sandblasted faces of those overdosed on AZT. Biohazdard notices and protocols like one would use for Ebola or Marburg in the rooms of the patients often simply treated with Pentamidine. – A subtle form of medical outing, similar to what happened to me privately with a ‘family’ doctor – not saying the “A” word directly but leaving no doubt what it must be. Looking for guys you knew at gatherings simply so see if they were still alive and not being surprised when they weren’t. Looking for guys who I fucked and who fucked me disappear off the edge of the Earth forever quickly and randomly. Casual social interactions overlaid with the consciousness that these could be the last interactions – the last word spoken – to any and every member of that group, whether they “looked sick” or not. Often they were. And as often it was the most robust-looking who later turned out to have been struck down. I remember a sort of innocence lost, as I saw true evil spouted and promulgated and left to fester unchallenged by society and government such as it was – that purported ‘Christians’ could be so uncharitable and callous and even bloodthirsty and self-satisfied – it hastened the end of my unrealistic idealism, and was profoundly shocking. It’s still shocking to me now, thank God I retain humanity, but it’s not surprising anymore. I remember the anger, the protests, the ignorance. The proportion of the former to the latter used to be much higher.
March 10th, 2010 at 6:20 pm
Being HIV poz today is not the same as 20 years ago, but
1) you better have good insurance. The 1 pill a day thing will set you back 20 grand a year otherwise.
2) you better hope that your body accepts the treatments. Not everyone can tolerate the new drugs.
3) be careful who you tell. Many people, both gay or straight or even your parents, still believe that HIV can be spread casually.
My sin was that I thought being a top made it impossible for me to catch it. Took me over a year to mentally get used to the idea of HIV. I still have trouble dealing with the “chasers” or anyone who calls me “charged”. I am fortunate that I have insurance, and my body can handle the Atripla. I have a small circle of friends that I rely on for emotional support, but NO ONE in my family knows. They probably never will.
One last thing, if you are on meds, you better stop taking any recreational drugs, or all bets are off. (Alcohol in moderation is ok, so is poppers)
March 10th, 2010 at 6:41 pm
an ex-lover of mine
[one of the true loves of my life]
but still at that time
a very close friend
with occasional benefits,
was suffering from/with AIDS,
and when he was in his last weeks,
it took me
literally becoming insane
in front of the nurses,
to allow me visitation rights.
soon after that,
the admins. and nurses
began to change their tunes.
just a miserable fucking time.
it seemed
that all we ever did
was go to memorials. . .
March 10th, 2010 at 7:29 pm
That was a horrible and surreal time, Scott. I was a young gay boy in the city then too and it was scary. These stories matter – thanks for sharing this.
March 11th, 2010 at 4:37 am
I watched the Dutch première of “house of boys”, an amazing movie that plays in the Amsterdam of the early eighties and it moved me to tears as I relived the experience of a lover dying in ‘92. Amazing subtle acting by Layke Anderson and Stephen Fry. the director of the movie, Jean-Claude Schlim, told me it will not be on dvd for another 6 months, so go see it at a cinema or festival if you can stand the intensity of the hospital atmosphere in those days.
a review with 4 pix on http://www.queerlog.nl/log (march 11th and 1st)
Also see lecture by Stephen Fry in which he accuses the hypocracy of the RC church and its criminal condom policies (with nuns and bisshops in the audience; nobody does it as eloquent and powerful as Mr. Fry) at http://www.dailymotion.com/swf/xbvr0m
March 11th, 2010 at 5:55 am
I was sitting at the local gay bar recently and overheard one of the bartenders say rather loudly “Oh I heard he has AIDS” blah blah blah. The way he said it was catty of course.
I can only imagine what they say about me behind my back because I am open about the fact I have been HIV + since the Navy informed me of my condition 01Jun90. I still got the paperwork. That same fear concerning the plates and catching the disease is still out there and the same ignorance is still attached to it maybe not as extreme but it carries on even amongst those most hurt by not understanding.
I don’t know, it almost is easier to the young guys you had to have been there to understand.
You had to be there…
When I watched my small circle of friends die in San Francisco till now there is no one left from those early days when I was growing up in that city.
When I walked into Bethesda NH that first day to attend that HIV Clinic and ended up talking to the most senior enlisted guy in the Navy in the “stairway to heaven” ward. He died shortly after.
When I walked into the hospital room to find some city worker cunt from hell trying to get John my lover to sign papers for her while he was lying there non-responsive due to AIDS eating away at his brain.
When the doctor in DC treated asking me if I wanted John to be allowed to pass away with dignity as “A FAVOR”. Got that? Living wills at the time did not work for gay couples and in several places they still do not so it all had to be done under the table as “wink wink nudge nudge” FAVORS. John died the same day and I got very very drunk.
When I heard Ronald Reagan had passed away from having his own brain rotted by disease and I felt like laughing till I cried. It was Karma and hope he knew every second what was happening. Maybe I am a hateful person for saying that but fuck it.
You had to be there.
March 11th, 2010 at 6:04 am
Aug, that was a beautiful, if heart rendering, bit of poetry.
March 11th, 2010 at 6:09 am
Thank you for these posts Scott.
March 11th, 2010 at 8:57 am
Back in ‘82 my former housemate, Joe Hernandez, was one of the men who gathered in Larry Kramer’s apartment the night GMHC was founded. At the time I couldn’t picture the problem spreading beyond NYC to DC, where I was then living, before a cure was found. Little did I know. I still have a hard time accepting that he and almost all of my gay friends are gone. It was the worst of times but often brought out the best in us. Thanks for posting this.
Although I’m bawling my eyes out right now, it’s good every so often to have a day of remembrance. Today is for the ones that are no longer with us.
March 11th, 2010 at 1:29 pm
Thanks Scott, and everyone who’s commented – Remembrance is necessary. Vital. Too many of our generation are gone so those who are left must do extra duty passing on the stories, the culture, the life, the history. And AMEN to Teddypig. I can’t imagine a punishment more fit for Reagan, what he got before he was taken to Hell, it was a good start and very good we got to witness some of it. I was so happy when Jerry Falwell croaked, and will be ecstatic when Pat Robertson finally bites it, and when Bush leaves too, through the right door… Sure it’s less than ideal perfection to experience pleasure at another’s pain, even these, but it’s honest. It’s human, it’s natural, it’s appropriate. Maybe bad to live angry or in schadenfreude 24/7 but I’ve had to learn how NOT to live in anger 24/7 about all of this long ago so I would not die from anger alone. Another transformative lesson from the AIDS experience.
When Falwell croaked I posted something somewhere about how good and pleasurable that was and was taken to task by a snotty self-righteous post – from someone who WAS NOT THERE. Also who was tragically ignorant of history. I had to take out the age-experience-history-honesty stick and beat him with it. The history is horrible enough, and available everywhere to anyone who expends the effort to look. But to live then and have Falwell and Reagan do what they did while people, my friends, my family, our American and Human family were suffering and dying was to experience pure fucking EVIL and I am unashamedly glad as fuck they are gone.
Now would I be as happy – more happy – if they had had a chance (they had the chance) and repented their ways and tried to make amends or at least express true conscious remorse? YES – I would be ecstatic. It would be so good. Transformative, bigger-than-life. The start of healing. They had their chance and there’s nothing sadder than someone dying after having been given so many opportunities to do the Right Thing. So sad. If Pat Robertson (to use the next one who comes to mind as an example) today became a real Christian and walked the real talk, Wow. God is crying that he’s not. And that he won’t. So sad. And so fuckingEVIL.
I will do a jig on his cold corpse when he goes and it’s not because *I* am a hateful person. It’s because I remember and remain conscious and aware.