Our Family: July 2006 Archives

It’s been a strange week for me. Now that it’s Saturday, I find myself looking back on everything that’s happened this week. I’ve talked extensively about my experiences this last week with issues of my muscles. The good news is, they are better now. They still ache, but the intense pain I had earlier in the week has been replaced with aching. I can live with that, and for the most part, and over the counter pain reliever takes care of that.

Strange dream last night. I was in some place - I think it was Missouri for some reason. It was raining non-stop the entire dream, which lasted all night. Well, there was one instance where this lady - I assume she was a teacher because she had a bunch of kids with her - passed by with a big frog on her shoulder. Only then did it stop raining. She went over to the edge of this pond which I believe was in some park, took the frog off her shoulder, showed it to the kids as she was talking to them, and placed it back into the water.

They left, and it started raining again. I left the park to go home. Some thugs spotted me, came up to me, and beat me up. It wasn’t bad and that’s not the point. The point is, some lady bandaged up my face, and I went home. I got home and who do you think my father was? Tony Soprano. He looked at me and asked, “What the fuck happened to you?” Can’t you hear him saying that? I said, “Nothing, forget it.” He put his hand on my shoulder and said, “No, there’s no forgetting it. If someone touches my son, I want to know who did it.” I know why he wanted to know, but I didn’t tell him.

I woke up. I’d like to think that I have my stuff a bit more together than “A.J.”, Tony Soprano’s son. Also, why the hell do I always get beat up in my dreams? Do I have some fear of that all the time in real life? What happened to me happened a long time ago. I have to get over it already - I thought I had. My dreams say otherwise.

So what have I learned this week? Life is to be savored with every single day. A lady who works for the same company I work for died. I knew she had gone on a medical leave, but I didn’t know how bad it was.

Then, this week, Eric Rofes died.

Eric Rofes always had 10 projects going at once, recalled his friend Amy Hoffman of Boston. He was, she said, “a force of nature.”

Indeed, Rofes was a man of considerable accomplishment before his death from an apparent heart attack on June 26 at the age of 51. He leaves a 30-year legacy of groundbreaking gay and AIDS activism that had its beginnings in Boston and a body of published work that includes 12 books, dozens of scholarly essays and hundreds of articles that display his breadth of expertise, from the politics of charter schools to the impact of AIDS on gay male sexual culture. At the time of his death, Rofes, an associate professor of education at Humboldt State University, was on sabbatical in Provincetown, writing a book about the lives of gay men in the decade before the AIDS crisis struck.

Crispin Hollings, Rofes’s partner of 16 years, said that Rofes was never idle. “In a way he was always working. He was always working on our relationship. He was always totally devoted to us,” said Hollings. There was precious time reserved just for the couple, such as lighting Shabbat candles every Friday night. But almost always, Rofes was organizing. “I would call him down to dinner and he would be working on some book or organizing someone’s birthday party or organizing his sex and politics discussion group,” said Hollings.

“There was never a dull moment.” Even when Rofes occasionally settled in to watch television — preferably Sex in the City or Ally McBeal — he was organizing some activity via e-mail at the same time. “He organized little silly things even, like Uno games, said Hollings, who made his home with Rofes in San Francisco. “He was an addict of Uno.” [...]

“I was hoping they wouldn’t annul the marriages,” Rofes told Bay Windows in an interview after the court ruling. “That made me angry and energized and made many of us enraged.” Rofes channeled his anger into an organization called Perfect Union, which encourages grassroots activism around the achievement of marriage equality. “I believe this is a battle that’s going to be won as much in the neighborhoods and the streets and our workplaces as it is in the courts and the Congress and the media,” he said. (source)

I didn’t know Eric. I was friends with Crispin years ago when Crispin was active in Connecticut gay politics. I worked with him on the Coalition for Gay and Lesbian Civil Rights. I’m happy that Crispin found love in his life.

I note that Eric was my age when he passed away of a heart attack. I’ve often thought about what lies ahead. I guess most people my age do. I wouldn’t mind living to old age, but I have no wish to do so if my body is falling apart, I don’t look presentable, or I have to wear diapers. There’s only so far I will carry this thing called life and at some point, it just isn’t life anymore. It turns into something else. And I sincerely wish the AARP would stop nagging me about becoming a member of their organization! First it was the colonoscopy, they I started getting their membership information. It’s depressing. I don’t want their discounts that bad. There’s a reason I don’t let my hair go gray.

I’ve also been very active in gay politics, and the incredible disappointment of my lack of ability to marry my life partner. I tell myself, “Bill, it doesn’t have to ruin everything.” That’s good advice, and it’s true. It doesn’t have to ruin everything. Every day is a new experience for me and I learn new things everyday. Not all days are good, lately, but I think this will pass and good days will be here again when I’m feeling well and energized.

Still, one thing that has changed is my ability, or willingness, to reach out so readily to others. I’ve become cynical of people. Aaron Copland composed Fanfare for the Common Man. I wonder, is there a “common” connection to any of us anymore? Do we have anything in common from a “values” point of view with the people in Iraq, or Iran, or Libya? Do any of us Americans really give a damn (or remember) about the teenage boys who where hanged last summer in Iran, just for being gay? DO ANY OF US CARE ABOUT ANYONE WHO IS NOT IN OUR “FAMILY”?

I don’t know. My existence consists of me, Kent, people I work with, a very few close friends, my cats, my home, and my hobby of photography. That’s it. I’m not a party boy. I’m apparently not a “gym bunny” either. People who know me think that I am sharp, witty, intelligent, outgoing, funny, outrageous, and flamboyant (I think that means, I’m obviously gay). Those are some of the terms I’ve heard used to describe me. In reality, I don’t know who they are talking about. Well, those are my morning thoughts, for what they are worth.

Unlike many Americans who will be traveling this weekend, I’m staying home and resting. I’d like to work on more photos and the website a bit. I’m a home body.