I Lost My Virginity During the AIDS Crisis

I am glad at least in my life I found someone

That may not be here forever to see me through

But I found strength in you

--Stevie Wonder, "You and I"

TUESDAY

APRIL 14, 2020

This morning I had meditated, lit my space, hydrated, and moved intentionally prior to sunrise, which was 6:18am. The sun came up as I journaled.

My window remained open for most of the day. There was a beautiful breeze entering in from the alley.

I brewed tea, to which I have begun adding crystallized ginger. Adds a great kick, and a bit of sweetness. Just like me.

My morning movement was Down Dog yoga, Beginner Level 1. In the afternoon I ran for 31m:14s, for a distance of 1.79 miles. It was my last day with "Becoming," which I can not renew. The audio book will automatically be returned to the Brooklyn Public Library tomorrow, because there is a very long waiting list. So I'm being left at the wedding. That's okay, I pretty much know what happens next.

I went shopping. The second floor of Foodtown is referenced as their 'health food' section. Although I noticed that all of the tofu has been moved downstairs. For fun, as well as a learning curve, I used Berto Calkins as my guide. I had watched a video of his a few days ago about going food shopping during New York's quarantine. I like him a lot. He seems authentic, and we appear to have a lot in common. Watch "Vegan Grocery Haul: Rona Quarantino, E4" at https://youtu.be/VlIZE04l4VU

Dropped off laundry, washed a ton of dishes.

@DownDogApp

@bklynlibrary

@FoodtownFoodie

@Whatsgoodberto

I lost my virginity in the middle of the AIDS crisis. I bought condoms, and I shot a documentary. I did not go on spring break, and I did not lick any toilets.

I make this comparison because I am having a hard time right now processing "Influencers." Who are these people, who claim to influence others for a living? If they actually did influence people, they wouldn't have to list it as their title on their social media pages. They would just influence, no? Have you heard about this kid, who posted a video of himself licking the toilet on the onset of the Coronavirus pandemic? And then a bunch of other kids posted videos of themselves licking toilets? And then the first kid tested positive?

Or the kids who posted a video of them selves, taking turns licking the same lollipop, set to music? Is this some form of expression?

Did you see that recently, all these college kids who defied scientifically documented biological data, went to Florida for spring break, and jumped in the ocean together?

In my day if you stood up up to, or against something, you stood the fuck up!

What happened to the idea of staying "WOKE?" Or Emma Gonzalez? Or was that ten minutes ago?

Not even Shakespeare could make this shit up.

When I was in college, I pursued a double major in English, and Filmmaking. I went to a University of 36,000 students, which sat on two campuses, and an odd downtown art studio building, that none of us knew anything about. I lived on the North Campus, which was so big, it actually had three zip codes. This is where I attended English, and most of my general education classes.

The English Department was very structured, and a majority of my rigid classmates were planning on becoming lawyers and teachers. I was there because I loved literature, and I enjoyed creative writing. Could you imagine how I felt being a sophomore, when Dead Poet Society came out. I was like "yes! THIS is why I'm an English major." Buffalo had a huge engineering school, where the biggest joke was:

"What do you do with an English major?"

"Marry her."

I recall having my pre-graduation meeting with career planning. My advisor asked me what my intentions were. My grades were indicative of someone who might want to go directly to grad school. I told her that I was moving back to New York to be a screenwriter and work in film. She asked,

"Oh, so you're not going to use your English?"

"Of course I am," trying to not sound offended. "Every single day."

She wasn't amused. But then again, neither was I. And I wasn't sorry that I was unintentionally seeking a career, which would upset the alumni salary curve.

There were 50 of us, fifty, who were able to call ourselves film majors. That's .14 percent. Could you imagine seven fiftieths of me running between two campuses, with all the engineers shouting, "marry her!"

Revenge of the nerds (ha-ha-ha).

The film department was so underfunded, ignored, and very misguided. It was located in the oldest, most remote building on the Main Street Campus. The equipment was broken or outdated or both. One semester we walked into class, and on the very first day the professor showed us a film he made in 1971. It was 42 minutes of him completely naked, pretending to have a seizure. This tenured professor was eventually asked to remove himself from the University, and voluntarily check himself into rehab, after he pulled a knife on a student's husband over a parking spot.

But there were four of us who bonded quite quickly. We were all from downstate, real New York, not Buffalo. And we didn't want to shoot, short little art films. Goodfellas had come out during our junior year, and we all knew that THAT'S what we wanted to do. At some point, a member of my New York crew asked me to help shoot his documentary about the AIDS crisis. He was the sexiest guy in the room, so of course I said yes. We agreed that I would help with the interviews, since as a good little English major, I was an ace reporter for my high school newspaper.

Now look, I knew, trusted, and believed the biological data, even when my mayor and president ignored the problem. I grabbed free condoms from wherever I could. I even bought them from Wegmans, which was the first place I had ever seen them on the shelf. For the past few years I had to ask the pharmacist to get them for me from behind the counter. The ratio of men to women at my University was nearly 5:1, so I had to protect myself. And yes, I hooked up with little Mr. Twenty Percent.

And I was apprehensive that first day that we walked into the Niagara Frontier AIDS Alliance, with all that bulky equipment. It was in a weird part of town, not far from the indescribable art studio building. And truthfully, I had a brief internal recoil sitting down on their couch. But I kept my composure as I spoke with advisors, and HIV+ survivors. I listened. And I learned.

The Sexy Documentarian and I would remain platonically connected for over 30 years. We have seen each other through everything, including career highs and abysses. Now he's working on his passion piece, a major film project, which I am going to be a part of.

"We don't read and write poetry because it's cute.

We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race

And the human race is filled with passion . . .

The powerful play goes on and you might contribute a verse.

What will your verse be?"

--Robin Williams as John Keating

Dead Poet Society, 1989