January 2005 Archives

Postcards from the Edge

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January 31, 2005

Last night, X and I went to a first really boring meeting. The speaker was sober for 11 years, but completely bland and uninspiring. We left after she spoke, and went to a much better one. Then, on the way back to the car, X spotted something in the parking lot and picked it up. It was a bag of meth, very full.

"What should I do?" he asked.

We didn’t want to leave it there in case someone on the verge of slipping found it after us and read it as a sign.

"Throw it out. Just throw it out." I advised.

There wasn’t a trash can in sight, and we had visions of cops and helicopters swooping down if we took two steps with it. So X just buried it in some bushes and we fled to the safety of the car. I thought of Stevie Wonder’s "Living for the City," where the rube from the country gets a five-dollar baggie of dope thrust in his hand at the bus station and is immediately arrested and put into prison.

We had spent the afternoon hanging artwork at the beautiful house of X’s friend R., because today a very dear old friend of X’s who is also an art collector is flying in from North Carolina. He is coming to see the art (he knew X in a former life and knew nothing about it) this afternoon. We are both a bit nervewracked that something beyond our control is somehow going to screw things up.

I parked my car last night down the street from where there was a "Temporary Tow Away Zone" sign, having no choice as there were no other spaces available, Happily, I was indeed far away enough, but I had a scary moment rounding the corner and thinking I had parked it closer, and it was gone. It was not.

Yesterday, I managed to make it to the flea market, and bought 10 old postcards for $2, fascinated by the messages on the back. They will go beautifully into some future art piece, several are in French and from Lourdes, circa 1914. I was transfixed for a good hour, finding the best postcards. Then when I was reading Joyce Carol Oates’ "When We Were the Mulvanneys" last night, a central character finds herself in her mothers barn, full of antiques. She spends the better part of an hour reading the antique postcards her mothers sells. Mmmhhh…

I also got what I call "The Bloggers Bible" or "The Art of the Personal Essay" put together by Philip Lopate. (A steal at $3, it is a big book). It is a superbly done compilation, and I am committed to reading an essay a night. The first was by Seneca, the Roman historian, and is called "Noise." He talked about how it is the noise in your head that takes precedence over the noise outside (with wonderful descriptions of the cacophony of ancient Roman daily life). He writes that even the rich man with a quiet country estate will be followed by the noise of turbulent dreams if his life is full of inner tumult.

I, of course, then dreamt about driving. My worst dreams, because in them, I invariably can’t reach the pedals, can’t see over the steering wheel, or can’t get my hand out from under the seat belt. But the oddest part was that in the first part of the dream, before I insisted taking over for insurance reasons, I was in the back. My mother was in the front passenger seat, and a woman I have never seen was driving us around New York.

I almost never dream about completely invented characters. Who was she? Why was she in my dream? And why was she so miffed when I insisted driving my own car? (Which I did, promptly, into oncoming traffic).

Still, this is an exciting day. X’s art looks wonderful in the house, and I anticipate a positive reaction from his old friend. We are all going out to dinner afterward.

MCO 2005

Faith indeed

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January 30, 2005

X sent me this last night, his horoscope:

The world's highest bridge recently opened for traffic in France. The Millau Viaduct soars over the Tarn River, reducing the driving distance between Paris and Barcelona by 60 miles. I hope to see a comparable innovation in your future, Scorpio. You need a monumental short cut that will let you cross safely and conveniently over a yawning abyss. Don't try to create it all by yourself. Enlist the help of the most soulful bridge-builders you can find.

Now, dear reader, may I just share with you that I camped for two summers right outside of Millau. I drank orangina in its cafes. I swam in a tributary to the Tarn River.

If this is not an indication that I am his shortcut over the yawning abyss. I don’t know what is. And if anyone is curious, check out this link, http://www.freewillastrology.com/horoscopes/scorpio.html and then compare the image next to it marked "Faith" with X’s work, posted on my website, of "the day the earth fell into itself…"

Faith indeed.

MCO 2005

P.S. I did a second Tarot reading. I daren't share it with you because you probably all think I've become a hopeless Woody Allen parody of the ex-New Yorker-turned-psychic-quoting, tarot-reading, karma-spouting, AA-sloganeering Californian. Guilty as charged. Blame it on the weather. A propos, as my HIGHER POWER card was the Sun.

For Better and Worse

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January 29, 2005

I wasn’t going to blog today but something came up that caused me to cough up the following thoughts.

Gays need to be able to get married. In the present scheme of things, there can be a marked imbalance in gay relationships based on who has the money. Hell, there can be an enormous imbalance in straight relationships if there’s no marriage contract, but with the legal support of matrimony, the contribution of the lesser-earning partner can be recognized as equal to that of the moneymaker.

This is how it should be. Gays should not have to draw up contracts and jump through all sorts of legal hoops to have the same rights as straight people, and each partner needs the psychological validation that comes from society affirming he/she is an equal partner. Couples should, of course, be able to figure out how they want—or not—to mix their money, but one partner should never feel "less than" the other when it comes to household decisions, for example.

I don’t want to cite specific examples I have witnessed out of respect for the privacy of the couples involved. It is not even necessary, given the fact that we all know myriad examples that bear out a whole range of examples. I just noticed that in gay couples, even long-term committed ones, the one who earns less tends to operate with less sure-footedness in the relationship than wives (usually) who depend on the husband’s income.

And there are my two cents. (I tried to do a Tarot reading on my love prospects in the next year, and the cards evaporated in a computer error before I could read them. What the hell does that mean? Dare I try again or should I take the hint?)

MCO 2005

DUSK

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January 28 2005

If you're interested, I arted a poem I wrote in prison, Dusk, and posted it on the "writings" section of my website, www.marcolmsted.com.

Enjoy.

In other news, Earl finally got a letter through from Chino. A CO was stabbed to death, ostensibly by some CRIPS, and it has been awful in there. There was no mail for a while, no phones, sack lunchs. The good news is that without visits, the drug supply has dried up. Jimmy has been sober and working out.

And I thought something I said had upset them and that's why they weren't writing. I feel terrible for not writing, so will correct that immediately.

I did, happily, finally receive my licence and ID. I am an official person again. Hooray!

MCO 2005

Bourbon Renewal?

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January 28, 2005

I realized that when I have a cup of coffee first thing in the morning, it suppresses my appetite just enough that I find it hard to eat breakfast. So I now eat breakfast, and then have a cup of coffee. This reduces any residual morning anxiety that I was having. It is now quite manageable. Although my reporting about it may be putting you, dear reader, to sleep.

On Sunday or Monday I will be moving to my friends’ Larry and David off Hollywood and Highland. Andrea has said it is okay for me to "commute" here to use the computer. I was very tempted to sublet a place for the three weeks until I get my own (Craig’s List is a miraculous resource…I just wonder who Craig is?) But that would pretty much deplete my funds, and I have to watch them carefully to make it successfully until my first paycheck—and from where that will come is still in doubt. That’s all right. The Goddesses have always provided.(And for once, I don’t mean my mother and sister).

I am so happy I have been able to discover a completely new relationship with X in sobriety. And we are seeing, today, a very close friend from the old days who has also gotten sober. Unfortunately, there are a few people X still has to deal with who are still "out there." It is sometimes a luxury every sober person cannot afford to cut off such contacts, and some of them are in varying degrees of addiction. They still work, function outwardly with relative success. But they exhibit telltale signs of undependability, evasiveness, and discomfort with sobriety. One of them continually offers X a drink when they see each other, even to the point of pushing it on him. "It’s not a drug" he scolds. Oh yes it is. It’s just a liquid drug, that happens to be legal. I found myself saying to X "He wants to be like you, but he can’t, so he wants you to be like him."

Recently, someone I thought I was friends for life with cut me off because he clearly couldn’t let me out of the compartment I was in. I was still the drug dealer/taboo relationship that reminded him of his own substantial wreckage (Or tweekage, as the case may be). Ostensibly, he was determined to get sober on his own at the time of our parting. And yet he turned away my sober friendship. It somehow stood as a reproach to him, I think.

I could only offer him my own amends for having facilitated his use, which had clearly crossed the line from recreational to something more. And left the door open to reconnection if he found he couldn’t get sober on his own. Some people do, after all. But from all the many stories I have heard in AA/NA of people who have been "dry" before they got sober, and my own experience in prison, it is so much more difficult and less satisfying an experience than when one avails oneself of the tools of the program and the support therein.

It remains, unfortunately, for many—as it was for me---a sign of weakness to ask for help, to admit you can’t do it alone. Most have to be literally brought to their knees. But really, asking for help is one of the bravest things you can ever do. No one would think twice to cry out if they were trapped in a fire. No one would reject help from the Fire Department because they all wore uniforms and were specifically trained to deal with the problem. And yet AA can be rejected because of its "group" trappings, the slogans, the steps. They are but the equivalent of a hose, a hydrant, a fire engine. And it goes far beyond that, the tools offered can be used for a wholesale reconstruction of lives.

Too many wait until their house has burned down, thinking somehow they don’t qualify because they’ve only lost a roof or the guest house. It’s generally easier to renovate an existing structure with minimal damage than rebuild from scratch.

But how many people successfully put out their own fires once the flames have leaped from the stove to the drapes and beyond?

MCO 2005

Clarity and Mercy

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January 27, 2005

X and I arrived late to a mis-listed meeting in the AA directory last night, so, not quite feeling we’d had our 12-step "dose, " we went to an N/A meeting over in Silverlake. It was rather a refreshing shot in the arm, like going to a black gospel church after a Unitarian one. In general, addicts have even more wreckage to recover from than alcoholics, more anger to work through, and that much more gratitude to be in recovery. They also seem to battle more with relapse.

But the speaker was powerful, and the sharing passionate and dramatic. I am thankful to be able to equally identify with the alcoholics and the addicts. I am completely comfortable in either venue. Lucky me.

Meanwhile, I can’t assume I will be hired by Being Alive, so I am still job-hunting. I happily located the same job opening for which I was set to interview before my arrest, as a subtitling editor for French films. I haven’t heard back, but I would so much like to follow through with that.

In general, I am awash in the feeling of moving forward. Doing the work, and letting go of the results. Getting an apartment has obviously been an enormous relief. Every day I do something to get closer to where I want to be. But of course that place will always be somewhere in the distance, particularly as I raise my sights to higher goals. The key is to embrace the process, not the result. And to continually surrender to the will of the universe.

Ours is a process of discovery, The future, in many ways, is more fixed than the past. Once something happens, there is every reason to believe it was that that was always going to happen. And of course what you do today will effect what will happen tomorrow. But there is never any cause for regret, or second guessing. Acceptance is the key. Total acceptance increasing the likelihood of constructive change, because you stay focused on the solution instead of the problem.

Oh my God, I sound like an Amway rep. "There are no problems, only challenges." But it really is not a bad way to approach life.

Please take a moment to send your thoughts and prayers to a man I’ll simply call T. who I heard share at the meeting last night who is facing a prison sentence. He has clearly turned his life around, and incarceration is not the answer. I wish the judge in his case clarity and mercy.

MCO 2005

Somewhere in Hollywood

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January 25, 2005

Well, the goddesses were listening. I hopped on Craig’s List yesterday morning, and saw a listing in Los Feliz for a studio for $750. I called, she was showing the place in an hour. It was too small, but she had a larger one a few blocks away, with a "sleep-in" kitchen—a de facto extra bedroom. And they allow dogs. There is only parking for 2/3 of the tenants, but as people move out I will move up on the list and eventually get a slot. All for $775 including utilities.

I first perused the neighborhood, realizing in walking distance is a metro stop, a Ralph’s, and above all an Out of the Closet Thrift shop. That sealed the deal. I ran down to the management offices and signed a lease (relieved to discover I had only insignificant marks on my credit.)

So, I hereby proffer a huge sigh of relief. The one downside is that it won’t be available until February 20th, at which point I will post the new address herein.

Last night I participated in a Focus Group for Being Alive, part of their social marketing program for Crystal Meth in the HIV+ community. I felt very comfortable participating and contributing insights particular to my experience. The creative director who will be donating his expertise to the campaign pronounced us the most articulate focus group in which he had ever participated.

Last night, unfortunately, I couldn’t get to sleep till the wee hours. The mornings have been much less full of anxiety, as I take my recommended dose of neurontin when I wake up for my morning pee at 8:00 am or so. I don’t know if it was the diet coke I had in the afternoon, or someone calling Andrea’s fax at 1am, or just the excitement of the day. I do know that I didn’t feel comfortable with the idea of taking a half of a xanax, even if the doctor prescribed it. I just hope the price of lower anxiety in the morning is not insomnia at night.

I am reading Deepak Chopra’s "A Path to Love" and finding it really wonderful. (I have to be prepared when Cupid sends the arrows in my direction!) And tackling Joyce Carol Oates’ "We Were the Mulvaneys." I have somehow missed reading her up until now. Damn she’s good.

LOVE

MCO 2005

Amends

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January 23, 2005

Tonight I went to a meeting in which the speaker shared his story of being a drug-addicted physician. He was very direct and honest, which eventually overcame his completely distracting handsomeness. (I had to close my eyes and listen instead of look, remembering that he was as flawed as any other man. Just better-looking than most.)

I found myself overcome by memories of my brother, Luke, who was a doctor who died in 1991. More specifically, I experienced a degree of guilt and remorse for having assumed his identity (in addition to, not replacing mine) for several years after he died, culminating in forging his death certificate to make it my own, to avoid the consequences of my first arrest. It worked for 6 months, but eventually I was sent to prison for it.

Chiefly, I used Luke's credit--rather better than my own as he was a doctor. I spent the money largely in a Robin Hood fashion, and all the debts I incurred were paid in full. This, along with my certainty that I was soon to follow him to the grave, allowed me to rationalize my misdeeds. But, just as the doctor knew better than to do what he did to himself, I knew better too. Being in the throes of addiction may explain it, but it does not justify it. What I did was wrong. It was simply wrong.

And I have admitted so to my family, and apologized sincerely. I "paid my debt to society" by going to prison. But part of AA is making amends to those you have harmed, and for the first time, tonight, I felt I had dishonored my brother. And I cannot tell him directly how sorry I am. And I cannot make direct amends to him.

What I can do is put it out here into Cyberspace, which may well have a worm-hole into the Afterlife. Who knows? And I can commit to eventually making a sizable charitable gift, in his name, to, let's say, a girls' school for dalits (untouchables) in India. I think he would like that.

I'm sorry, Luke.

MCO 2005

Hallelujah

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January 22, 2005

Hallelujah because the blog is back up, after a two-day hiatus due to technical difficulties I had no control over. I'm quite sure I suffered more from not being able to write it than from you not being able to read it. But thanks for checking back.

Good news. Being Alive will indeed be publishing excerpts from the blog. And I am in the running for the job of Prevention Coordinator, specializing by background and necessity in the crucial area of HIV and meth use. I don't want to count my chickens, but I feel pretty confident about my chances. Perfect match is sort of the phrase that comes to mind.

Meanwhile, the apartment hunt has gone into full gear. This is, obviously, a tedious process. But I have always had good luck with finding affordable living spaces, and I am trusting in the real estate Goddesses (working through Craig's List) to deliver unto me a one-bedroom for less than $900.

I still can't figure out why I have such difficult mornings. I pray, I make lists, I try to meditate, I walk, but there is a terrific knot in my stomach till mid-afternoon or so. I adjusted my dose of neurontin upwards, recognizing that as much as I don't like it, the bi-polar diagnosis might be dead on.

Meanwhile, the meetings continue to be amazing. I am going to start jotting down some of the gems I hear. Tonight I went to a meeting called Hollywood Squares, which was packed. With laughter, support and frankly, some very hot men.

One woman who celebrated 18 years talked about turning her fear into faith. This stuck with me. This is what I will work on tomorrow morning. Turning my fear into faith.

MCO 2005

Freedom is not Free

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January 20, 2005

Well it’s official. We have four more years of Bozo at the helm. I was almost ready for him to say "Freedom is not Fire. I mean Freedom is not Free. I know what Freedom is. Freedom isn’t Fire. I know that."

But he has a point. Freedom is not free. Usually you have to put down first and last month’s rent. This is my personal quest in the next two weeks.

Something rather wonderful did occur yesterday. After a great lunch with my friend Mark, I headed over to the Being Alive offices, and told them my story and that I’d like to write for them again. They were extremely receptive to the idea, noting that my pieces written for them in 1999 provoked more mail than any contributions since. They also have received some funding for a "social marketing program" to address crystal use in the HIV+ community, and will be making some new hires to that end. As you can imagine, I immediately forwarded my resume as well as several pieces from the blog that might be appropriate for their upcoming March issue.

Then I signed up with a service that issues weekly apartment listings and matches for roommates. The latter is a longshot, as I would rather have my own place, but it only costs $15 more for that and you never know. I personally would find it a little nerve-wracking for a potential new roommate to announce that he’s on parole, and I cannot at the same time imagine not being upfront about that. Little can they know that it is precisely this detail that would guarantee the most angelic behavior desired.

I’m off the hunt for a roof over my head. Much calmer today, thanks partially to pages 86-88 of the Big Book. A great way to start the day.

MCO 2005

P.S. I also might be doing a spot at a coffeehouse event called "Word-a-rama" If anyone has a favorite blog entry, or poem, please let me know your vote. I am at a loss as to what to choose.

One Step Forward

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January 19, 2005

The problem with three steps forward and two steps back is when you're in the two steps back part, you can lose perspective that you're still ahead of where you were.

I still seem to be grappling with an enormous amount of fear when I first get up in the morning. Actually, it starts before I get up and keeps me in bed until I finally tear myself out. Today I grabbed the AA Big Book, and read three pages recommended as a morning meditation at a meeting last night. To paraphrase: "We do not struggle, because we are not running the show."

Of course, the more you try not to struggle, the more you can struggle. How can I not struggle, when what I am going to do with my life, and where I am going to live is so fraught with uncertainty? The truth is I am afraid of not getting an interview, and I am afraid of getting an interview. The fear of rejection looms large, as does the fear of a credit check. I have a lot of wreckage from my past that still nears clearing up.

So I remember that I have some money in the bank, there is a job out there with my name written on it, and I am surrounded by love and support of family, friends and the program. It is a bona fide miracle that X and I are working together again, and both sober. It really is. I just have to do the work, and remember a little intimidation never killed anyone. Everything will be okay. I am not going to be homeless, I am not going to go hungry, I certainly am not going to drink or do drugs. The universe will provide.

So I am off to lunch and to the Being Alive offices to check their bulletin board for apartments. I hereby let go of this morning's fearfulness, and ask my readers to send me their supportive thoughts. I send them right back out at you, mindful that we all are going through shit every day, and the world can be a very scary place. After all, look who's getting inaugurated a second time tomorrow?

MCO 2005

Amends and Apartments

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January 17, 2005

Yesterday I went to my beloved flea market. Aside from some cool old Life Magazines plus a beautiful (but inexpensive) bound copy of Wilde's "The Ballad of Reading Gaol," two things of note occurred. Number 1, I ran into my ex-neighbors, the Warstas. Soleya and Ati are Aghani immigrants, who lived below me for ten years. I don't think a week went by where Soleya did not bring me a plate of rice with lamb, chicken or kebab, as she did with all of the denizens of our building. I let her use my storage unit for all of the extra stuff she sold at her weekly yard sales and the flea market. I also bought several carpets from them for my bedroom floor, as they were directly below. (I will let you surmise why that was an important component of good neighborliness).

I told her she looked well, she said the same of me, and I told her I was "all better." And then I aplogized for the drama and how it must have, at the very least, been unnerving. Her English has always been serviceable at best, and she said "No worry. We all make mistake." That's sounded pretty articulate to me, and I appreciated her absolution. Anyone who can feed her neigbhbors while fasting herself during Ramadan (at least sunrise to sunset) has a lot of spiritual chutzpah, in my book.

I also saw a posting for studio spaces on Melrose and Vine, and spoke to the landlady, who selling stuff there. There are two spaces available, for the unheard of prices of $525 and $625 a month. I surmised that they are techinically working, not living spaces, (hence no kitchens) which can be the only explanation for they're so cheap. At the same time I think she would have made it clear if tenants were not allowed to live there, in fact I had the distinct impression that's what everybody there did.

Pray that they allow dogs,

MCO

2005

All for everybody

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January 16, 2005

Oh my. Can I be interesting 365 days I year? Would I read me it I wasn't me? This is the question that haunts me this morning. I take solace in the idea that some of you must be checking in only once or twice a week, so I only have to be really interesting that much. I am confronted by the reality that prison and anxiety attacks are inherently more dramatic than getting one's shit relatively together and going about the business of living.

My sister and I had a long talk and it seems to be her instinct (and mine) that L.A. is where I should remain. While I was in prison, we were anxious to make sure I would be released in an environment where I would find little temptation to return to the old ways. We didn't really expect that not only would I embrace AA, but that every other meeting I would meet someone from my past who had gotten sober. (Two more last night). So I truly have a support system here, and am feeling zero temptation.

And the better jobs are here. I applied yesterday for a postition of editor at a Publishing House for gay-themed books. I could so do this job, and very well. Of course, I wouldn't mind terribly if instead of an interview, they called me up to say they'd read the blog and wanted to sign me on as an author. Duh.

And my sister being a money-where-her-mouth-is kind of gal, has agreed with her husband that I can pay for the car after I get a job, which will give me substantial leeway here to wait and land a job that's worth waiting for, instead of the first administrative assistant type position I can find. This is quite a relief. I wish on everyone in the world a family like mine (including in-laws).

The speakers last night were brilliant (there were two of them, at a large meeting in the Valley I went to) , and one of them was also incredibly sexy. Sometimes I wish the self-identification went "I'm Blank and I'm a SINGLE alchoholic." Our stories had significant elements in common. (Yes, I gave him my card). The other was an older guy who was a professional entertainer, and he had us rollicking for his entire 45 minutes. Here's one of his gems: "you know you've hit bottom when things get worse faster than you can lower your standards."

I was just listening to This American Life, with Ira Glass, on NPR. They did an entire segment on what it is like for American soldiers in Iraq. almost entirely quoting the soldiers themselves (no one can accuse them of spin). Many scenes were heard from a TV documentary (soon to be aired I think) called "Off to War" which documents the experience of an Arkansas National Guard Unit over their entire year's tour of duty. I heartily recommend it. If the right wing in this country doesn't want to listen to the opinion of the "liberally-biased media" (a fiction, in any case), they need only to listen to the soldiers we all support.

Today I am engaging in one of my very favorite activities. I'm going to a flea market, where I always find really cool old postcards, photos, and magazines. In fact, I'm feeling such a hankering to do some art myself again that I bought a poster-sized section of papyrus from the art store, and intend to start slathering it with letters I received while inside. It was a hard thing to give that stamp collage to my sister, I had grown rather close to my creation. So this will be even more interesting, and all for me.

The blog is all for you.

MCO 20054

Growing North

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January 15, 2005

Well, nothing poignant or quirky happened at the DMV, unless you count the odd bit of information that my picture never "took," hence why I did not receive my license. All was resolved though and it should finally get here, just in time for me to trade it for a New Mexico license. Which looks that much more likely, because my sister said I could bring my dog out (from my brother's) , as long as her kittens got a chance to be acclimated to him before they're 6 months.

d live within my means, and that may mean going east, young man. And that's okay. It will all be as it should be.

MCO 2004

Happy FayDay

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January 14, 2005

It's the 64th birthday today of Faye Dunaway, my ex-neighbor. I have to admit, she looks damn good for 64.

As you can tell, I have nothing fascinating to report, but I think yesterday's entry provided enough fodder for a week. I continue to put one foot in front of the other, and I would say there is a spring in my step. The anxiety attacks have completely abated, and I sleep without help. Going to meetings has been a great boon. I pick up a friend in the Valley almost daily. It has been a bit of a pain, because of the rush-hour traffic, but he is so appreciative and it makes me feel I am doing "service."

I have adopted the one-day-at-a-time philosophy with a vengeance. I realize by writing one blog entry a day, I am already on my second book. Reading 30 minutes a night will yield about 10+ books read a year, and applying to one job, even, a day, will make for 30 job applications a month. (I am only applying for those jobs that would really be worth staying in LA for.)

Meanwhile, I got a back check from disability that has made it possible to pay off some debts and the capacity to put down a security deposit for an apartment if need be. In AA they say the universe will not always give you what you want, but it will usually provide what you need. I am finding this true for me.

I need to go to the DMV and find out why my licence hasn't come. Hopefully something absurd and wonderful will happen that will be worth reporting.

MCO 2005

Scouting Boys

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marcscoutsm

Chuck was a handsome man. He was dark, (Italian), with curly dark hair. He was 28, and I was 11. Chuck was a Boy Scout counselor at Camp Waubeeka, in upstate New York, and he molested me.

In French, "molester" means "to bother," and this is appropriate, because more than traumatizing, or scarring me, the whole experience more accurately "bothered" me. I didn’t understand it. I didn’t hate it, either. But I knew it wasn’t right. And I don’t mean in the moral sense, although it certainly wasn’t in that regard. I mean in the sense that it was wholly inappropriate, for the simply reason that I was pre-pubescent, and incapable as such of giving my free consent as an adult.

But neither was I a completely passive participant. To be honest, I seduced Chuck. I just did not know I was doing so.

I was on Chuck like white on rice, from the moment I met him. I suppose you could ascribe it to hero worship, something most boys; whether they turn out straight or gay, succumb to. But even if my sexual orientation was not yet fully articulated, it was unquestionably nascent. I fantasized constantly about getting kidnapped, tied up and gagged. The fantasy gave me an erection, and when I became an adult, I discovered that a veritable cottage industry blossomed in both the gay and straight world around this very fantasy. The kidnappers always were men, and always wore leather. It was my deep, dark secret, in a Wonder Years world where such secrets of adult sexuality were successfully hidden from children.

I was taught, like every other kid, not to talk to strangers. I was not taught about inappropriate touching, that I can remember, although of course I knew what it was when it occurred. What caused me so much torment was my inability to reconcile my discomfort and my pleasure. It was, and still is, completely taboo to acknowledge that in any way some children, specifically boys, might play a role in choosing their molester. This does not by one whit absolve the adult from his responsibility to respect the person of the child. It merely notes that children have a sexuality too, and it can play a role in the dynamic of the encounter.

Obviously Chuck was delighted to have this doe-eyed 11-year old holding on to his every word. He loved to toss me over his shoulder and tickle me. He dubbed me "Frenchie," giving me status among the boys with a nickname. Little could I understand that this was part and parcel of his modus operandi, which manifested itself particularly nefariously my second weekend at camp.

Every year, Chuck would construct a huge teepee outside of the main camps, where three different Boy Scout troupes had their tents pitched. He would gather a chosen few from each troupe, in retrospect, the best-looking boys from each. Then we would dress up in loincloths and compete in games and conduct rituals.

One such activity was footraces. Before we could run, however, Chuck would call each one of us into the teepee, and explain quite naturally that in order to avoid chafing, it was necessary to apply lotion to our scrotums. I doubt any of us were entirely comfortable with this procedure, but we didn’t talk about it amongst ourselves. I can’t imagine any child of this era not hearing alarm bells if such a wholly bogus precaution as this were taken by his camp counselor, but it was 1970. We didn’t know any better, and Chuck knew it.

We ran the races, and then Chuck took some of us to the lake and photographed us in our loincloths. I still have the picture, we he actually sent to me that autumn. It is a beautiful black and white photograph that only did I later realize probably circulated among a circle of pedophiles for years.

That night, Chuck had all of our sleeping bags circling a fire in the teepee. He made certain mine was next to his. He then started telling stories about being a marine in Okinawa. They were not very good stories, as I remember, but we were boys and he had been a marine. It didn’t matter what he said.

I remember leaning back in my sleeping bag, listening. Chuck took advantage of the way in which the sleeping bags were bunched up to quietly slide his hand into my sleeping bag. He knew—no doubt from experience—that the sheer brazenness of his gesture protected him from my saying anything. He was the authority figure, and he used this power.

He took my penis into his hand, and started manipulating it. I could scarcely believe it was happening, but instinctively said nothing. And suddenly I was erect, and while what he was doing scared me, it felt good. Soon enough I had my very first orgasm. I had no semen to ejaculate, but it was an orgasm nonetheless. But no so powerful that I could not quell my spasms.

Finally it was time to sleep. The fire was put out and we settled in. As the breathing of the other boys turned steady, I heard my sleeping bag being slowly unzipped. Chuck arms quietly surrounded me.

Part of me, a substantial part of me, was very drawn to Chuck, and wanted the affection, the attention, the physical contact. Another part of me, a bigger part of me, knew unquestionably that this was exactly why our parents warned us against talking to strangers. I was scared. I just didn’t understand sex. I didn’t think he would hurt me, and he was in no way menacing, there was just something so clearly inappropriate about what he was doing. It was as if someone was trying to speak to me in a language I didn’t understand. I had no tools with which to understand him.

My body stiffened, and Chuck did not press. But he did not take away his arms either, until I finally whispered. "Please, stop." It is hard to be certain what he said, 35 years later, but in my mind his words were "this happens too easy." And then he withdrew to his own sleeping bag.

I slept poorly, trying to understand what had happened. It seems odd now, but I had never grasped "molesting" as being specifically sexual in nature. The masturbation (which I had not yet even attempted on my own) bothered me less than the attempt at—what, snuggling? One seemed almost like an attempt to teach me pleasure, the other crossed the line into an intimacy I had no way of absorbing,

The next morning, Chuck woke us up by emptying us out of our sleeping bags and pulling off our underwear to squeals of embarrassment. This still seemed to fall under the rubric of good-natured hazing. (Extraordinary, isn’t it?)

One of the boys who were emptied from his sleeping bag was Donnie Graham. Donnie was one of my brother’s best friends, two years older than I was, and in my scout troop. I cornered him later at our campsite.

"Donnie" I told him. "Chuck molested me."

"He what? He did not. What are you talking about?"

"He played with me." (I did not even know the term "jerking off" yet.) "He put his hands in my sleeping bag."

Donnie did not know quite how to react. But he eventually told my brother, I think, who told my father, who was a scoutmaster himself, though not at the camp that year. But my father didn’t find out until I was back home.

He asked me what had happened, without particular urgency or fanfare, and I told him vaguely about fondling. Later my mother asked me about it as well, in a manner that made clear that she wanted to hear that it was no big thing, Embarrassed to talk to my mother about such things, I said whatever needed to be said to terminate the conversation as quickly as possible.

This is what my parents were like. When my brother was 4, he got up on the bathroom sink, and put his foot in the basin. Amazingly, the basin broke, and his leg plunged through it, tearing a huge gash in his leg. He was rushed to the emergency room and sewn up. In the middle of the operation, the surgeon took a phone call. When he returned he completed suturing.

Four years later, Luke started limping, and went back to our regular doctor. There was something pointy sticking out from the inside of his leg. It turned out to be a needle. The surgeon, evidently, had returned from the phone call and continued the stitching with a different needle. The needle he left in my brother’s leg could have traveled to his heart.

My parents had a lawsuit that could have financed my brother’s medical school tuition years later. Instead, they wrote a letter to the AMA. I wonder if it even got into his file.

And so, my non-litigious–to-a-fault father merely made a phone call asking that Chuck’s contract the following summer not be renewed. And yet, that December, we returned to Waubeeka for a winter weekend in a cabin, with Chuck as one of the accompanying adults. Since my father was with us, there was of course no opportunity for Chuck to misbehave. The only time my father talked about it again was when he joked one or two years later about my "homosexual days." I scowled, all the more because I was becoming aware that those days were ahead of me much more than behind me.

I am certain the experience had no bearing on my homosexuality. I have no doubt that sexual orientation is fixed from birth, like left-handedness. I do wonder where and how pedophilia emerges. I assume Chuck was himself molested, as, in my understanding, sexual abuse begets sexual abuse. And yet I myself have absolutely no inclinations in that regard. I am attracted to men, not boys, and never have been otherwise for a moment.

As such, I was attracted to Chuck, the man, though in an inchoate way. The memory of the experience with him does not make me recoil. It even retains an erotic tinge, although not something I ever fantasize about. (Because in my fantasies, I am also a man.) Above all I remember the fear. I simply did not understand why he was doing what he was doing,

I imagine that if I was born ten years later, and I had met Chuck in 1979, that he would not have been so brazen. But had it occurred nonetheless, it is hard to imagine my parents reacting with such equanimity. In those ten years, we were introduced to Phil Donahue, Sally Jesse Raphael and Oprah. Ten year olds had a much better understanding of why it was one didn’t talk to strangers. And yet, as with most pedophiles, Chuck was not a stranger, He was entrusted with the care of boys whose parents worried much more about them falling from capsized canoes than being fondled. His behavior was certainly indefensible.

And yet, I’m glad my parents didn’t press charges. I think that experience would have been much more traumatic for me than the actual encounter with Chuck was. But certainly, this sort of thing occurred with many boys over many years. I cannot say for sure if the fact that I am gay, and was even then, makes the difference in how I digested the experience. But I imagine it does. It also begs a certain question. Did Chuck choose me because I chose him?

This doesn’t in any way minimize Chuck’s conduct. It only lends perspective to the big picture. If children were generally understood to be little people, with appetites that are not fully developed, but there, they might also be empowered to see themselves as more capable of saying no. When I did say no, Chuck respected that.

I think this is so controversial because a child who feels capable of saying no is also a child who feels capable of saying yes. I’ve known many men, over the years, who told me that as boys they actually searched out men for sex. They initiated the encounters. I remember myself pressuring and cajoling the Good Humor Ice Cream truck driver to let me drive around with him, hidden behind the door where he served the ice cream. In retrospect, he let me do it almost certainly because he was attracted to me. He did not act on it, but why did I want so badly to be driven around in his truck?

Part of it was because it was forbidden, and I was such a good kid I got a rush from doing something "bad." But part of it was that I liked looking at him, I liked the way his exposed forearms turned the wheel, his deep voice as he asked, "What’ll you have?"

To a pedophile who no doubt suffers terribly from the urges he certainly did not choose to have and cannot control having, such seductive behavior (however unconscious it was on my part) must have made not acting on it all the more difficult. It could easily have fed the delusion on his part that any sexual interaction would have involved mutual consent.

Of course, there can be no informed consent, by definition, from a ten-year old, and any violation of that reality must be discouraged and sanctioned against by society. But I think, between certain boys and certain men, that it is not as completely black and white a picture as it is commonly portrayed. Sexuality does not arise fully formed at puberty. It grows from year to year until it bursts forth, like a chick from an egg. But it evolves along a continuum.

If I had recounted this story as a ten-year old having a sexual encounter with an older woman, the reaction would probably be more one of being amazed by my precocity than that of wondering if I was traumatized by the event. I heard more than a few of those stories in prison, they exist in literature as well, and it is never associated with a sense of shame or victimization on the part of the boy. If anything, there is a triumphant-young-stud veneer to it.

Frankly, nothing in my experience itself was inherently traumatic. It was sexual, not violent, and there was never any real or implied threat of violence. This doesn’t make Chuck’s behavior okay, but I can’t say I think he should have gone to prison for it either.

I don’t know any more than anyone the best way to deal with pedophiles. I just think they are too easily simplified and reduced to demon predators, and the object of their attraction as having no capacity for attraction themselves. It’s simply more complicated than that.

(None of my conjectures apply to older men and girl children, by the way. I believe my experience was entirely a function of the nature of male sexuality, which I think differs fundamentally from female sexuality. If I were a girl fondled by an older man I would be hard fit to see it as anything but pure and simple victimization.)

I actually searched for Chuck when I was 15, and became aware of my attraction toward men. I knew he lived in the Bronx, but his last name was too common to isolate him. Ironically, I would probably have been too old for him by then anyway.

What a curse it must be to have such desires as he did. I imagine if I could not wish or pray away my own sexual urges toward men, that he could no more do the same of his for boys. What a terrible burden to live with, like perpetually trying to drive though a dead end road.

It may be the ultimate in political incorrectness to have compassion for such souls, but I do.

MCO 2005

Squirelly

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January 12, 2005

Boy, do I feel squirelly. Squirelly, squirelly, squirelly. This is an AAism (yes, I've become one of those people who peppers his conversation with AAisms-- annoying, isn't it?) for that restless feeling of unidentifiable origin, pretty common in alcoholics, particularly in early sobriety. This is no doubt helped by a heavy dollop of ADD, wiith bi-polar disorder on the side. (The speaker last night--a funny young woman--said "the difference between alcoholics and normal drinkers is that after a one glass of wine, an alcoholic orders another, and a normal drinker orders an entree." She also noted that an alcoholic can control his drinking--or enjoy his drinking--but never both. Both ring very true for me.)

I have tons to do, considering I am job-hunting, and all I can think of is to meet a friend for lunch or go to a meeting. Whatever I choose, I won't beat myself up for it. I just can't. I have to recognize the reality that this is a time of enormous upheaval and uncertainty, of transformation really, and the road is rocky and fairly lonely. I'm moving Saturday to my friend's Larry and David's, but I won't have a computer there so either must buy one with my limited funds or go to Internet Cafes. Either choice seems fraught with dramatic implications.

I don't think I got the job at Cybersocket, as the Publisher said he was deciding at the end of the day yesterday and he needed someone immediately, and he hasn't called. It's okay. The interview went well enough, although he didn't mention my felony conviction, which was listed on the application right before "Do you use illegal drugs?" I checked "no" and wrote in "I AM SOBER." That he noted with approval. I am frankly unsure if I shouldn't just leave the "have you every been convicted of a felony?' question blank, and hope they don't notice. I hate filling out job applications. Not only do you have to repeat everything on your resume, but my handwriting is execrable and that doesn't bode well for taking legible phone messages.

I'm okay about not getting the job. It was a big step for me just to go on an interview, and to be honest about my past. And though I would have written plenty of punchy, short entries about the internet, it wouldn't have afforded me any opportunities to do the kind of essayist-type writing that is my forte. Not that the jobs that allow for that are likely to come my way. One doesn't just go straight to Russell Baker/Maureen Dowd Land without 20 some odd years of journalism under one's belt. Should I start prostituting myself, allowing banners and pop-ups on the blog? That would be so annoying for you guys, wouldn't it?

I did receive a fascinating letter from my cousin, who told me she had researched "the Bends" and found out depression and longterm neurological problems were not uncommon longterm effects, so this may well have played a significant role in my grandfather's suicide. She also told me that after my grandmother died, her mother, my Aunt Cora, (married to my father's brother) had taken it upon herself to investigate the origins of my adopted Aunt Nancy. She found out Nancy was born Beverly, in Gloversvile, NY, to alcoholic parents who had been both killed in a car accident. Being the youngest, she was put up for adoption, but had several surviving siblings. Nancy died, however, before her sister-in-law ever told her the information she gleaned.

This news astounded me. Had she known, I wonder, would Nancy have wanted to meet her natural family? Would it have made any difference? What we don't know about such things still end up belng a lot more than what we find out.

I have decided my next remembrance piece will be an account of my own molestation by a scout leader in 1969. I can hear the frissons going up everyone's spine reading that. But I am a firm believer that in exercising discretion about such things, we only compound the victim's sense of shame. What do I have to be ashamed of? And who knows to what degree I may have internalized the shame that so inevitably surrounds such things? In any event, I certainly have a fair amount of politically incorrect observations to make about the entire experience.

Our glorious LA weather has returned. I simply must take a walk and soak up some God before checking my email.

MCO 2005

I can do this

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January 11, 2005

Today I have an interview for the position of Editor of Cybersocket, a free zine that serves as a very cool gay guide to the Internet in Los Angeles. It is widely read and very hip, you can pick it up everywhere and everyone does. I've admired it for years and can honestly say this is one of those jobs almost tailor-made for my experience and resume. (And I referred openly to the blog in my cover letter, so I am thinking they are aware of the background that didn't make it on the C.V. It might even give me a bad-boy-gone-good allure that works to my advantage). I am certainly not the only other qualified interviewee, however, so I am hardly counting my chickens. If it is supposed to be, it will be.

The past few days have been quite magical, actually. I have used nothing to help me sleep for two nights, and I started taking neurontin again (for neuropathy), because I think my withdrawal from it was a prime source of the anxiety attacks. I am feeling much less anxious.

So I am of course nervous about the interview, mostly because if I get the job I'll have to do that first few weeks of a new job learning curve, which is so stressful. But that kind of "good" stress when starting a job is about as inevitable as the sun coming up.

Which it did today, for the first time in what seems like 40 days and 40 nights here. Let's hope it holds till my interview. Then again, if I'm late, I can't blame it on a mudslide.

MCO 2005

Bloodless

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January 10, 2004

My grandmother, nee Hazel Beebe, was a nurse, who met my grandfather, Russell Conwell Olmsted, when he was recovering from the bends. The bends is the very painful syndrome that occurs when scuba divers come up for air from significant depth too fast. My grandfather was not a scuba diver, however, he was an engineer who worked in the Lincoln Tunnel during its construction. Owing to the depth at which the worked, the bends was an occupational hazard--though I think it was poorly understood at the time.

And I may be completely wrong that this was the cause of the hospitalization during which my grandparents met. My grandfather was also injured in a grain elevator accident in Cuba sometime around 1920, I think, and at one point was sent up to Bellevue in New York City to recuperate. In any case, she was one of his nurses during one of these hospitalizations.

My Uncle Donn told me this. I asked him about some family history at the time of the death of my own father, in 1996. I had never gotten a satisfactory response from my Dad regarding why his father, Russell, had been found dead in his car of self-induced carbon-monoxide poisoning in 1942. I believe this occurred at a rest stop on the New Jersey Turnpike. He left no note, at least that’s what the sons were told. I asked my Uncle what he thought the reason a prosperous man with a healthy family would kill himself at the prime of his life. Donn surmised that his father suffered from chronic pain from his myriad past injuries, and couldn’t take it anymore.

Suicide is invariably cruel to the survivors it leaves behind, but it seems that much crueler when the cause of it is shrouded in mystery. And I rather think that if my Grandfather’s chronic pain was that severe, that it would merit more than a conjecture. By all accounts, and by the evidence of the personalities left behind in his children, my grandfather was jovial and self-effacing, but no more stoic than was common for the men of his generation. He was also very aware of the fact that he was descended from proud Yankee stock, the same family that had produced Frederick Law Olmsted, the veritable founder of landscape architecture and co-designer of Central Park, among many other projects in a prolific career. My grandfather was not someone who would have been unaware of the social stigma of suicide, not someone who didn’t take his responsibilities as father and provider and pillar of the community very seriously.

Unlike so many other Americans, he also did not economically suffer in the Depression. He was employed throughout as an engineer on the George Washington Bridge. He had 4 children, a loving wife, and a maid. In 1942, his two oldest sons were in the military, but not yet in combat. Both survived the war. Given the atmosphere of the times, it would strike me as a far greater source of grief if they had not signed up than if they had.

When it comes to suicides of unknown cause, I think that survivors tend to project their own lives’ pitfalls when attempting to explain it. My father was an alcoholic, and my mother wondered if her father-in-law (who died years before she met my Dad), was a drinker. If he was, he was an extremely secret one; my Uncle doesn’t remember seeing him drunk once.

When I asked my father why he thought his father killed himself, he answered (drunk): "Because he was a failure." But my grandfather was no such thing, in fact he invented some sort of prefabricated concrete panels used in highway building. My father, who had an extremely modest career by any measure, was projecting his appraisal of his own life.

This is all the more poignant because the suicide occurred when my father was 14. He was summoned out of his class at prep school and told by the headmaster that his father was dead. I am unclear as to how he discovered it was by his own hand. I do know that my father dropped out of prep school, getting his GED years later. With the GI bill, he went to a couple of years of college at Rutger’s, but never got a degree. This haunted his professional life in later years, when it no longer sufficed to be white and well-spoken to work one’s way up the corporate ladder. It is unquestionable that had he had his father to guide him, he would have had a completely different life.

According to my Uncle, there was some doubt as to whether my grandfather was cheated on the patent rights to his invention. But this discontent did not even translate into a legal proceeding. It’s hard to imagine his frustration, if any, boiling over to suicide. As far as I understand human nature, if one wants to spite one’s enemies by killing oneself, that cause is made pointedly clear to the world.

My father had a second brother, Peter, whose opinion about his father’s death I never asked. This is because Peter is probably the angriest man I know. He might have been redeemed by the love of a good woman, but his first wife, Louise, was killed in a car accident in 1962. His second wife, whom he married in a few years later, he literally drove to drink. (She later divorced him and got sober, thank God.) I don’t think any of Peter’s three children even speak to him anymore.

Peter was a navigator in World War II, flying 50 missions over Italy and Rumania in 1943. He wrote a memoir about it, that he sent to me years ago, when I solidified my reputation as the writer of my generation of Olmsteds. In it, Peter describes being at a base in Texas where he was training with the Air Force. He was sent home on emergency leave upon hearing of his father’s death. He recounts reading his father’s obituary in a newspaper on the local bus taking him from Penn Station to Harrington Park, New Jersey. In it, he discovered the manner and method of his father's death.

The account is chilling only in that it is completely devoid of emotion (as is the entire memoir—an amazing feat considering he survived the most dramatic situations imaginable). I read the passage about his reaching home and going to the funeral with anticipation. There was one reference to it being a difficult time for his mother. Apart from that, absolutely no questioning of the cause of the suicide, no discussion of the impact on him, his brothers and his little sister. It is completely bloodless.

In later life, Uncle Peter referred to his mother as "the General." She was certainly an indomitable woman, I know not if this preceded her husband’s death or was in reaction to it. I do know that she mellowed later in life, at least as a grandmother. She was never gooey, but she was certainly affectionate. I have wonderful memories of she and her only daughter, Aunt Nancy, coming over from the apartment they shared in Reston, Virginia to our home in Rockville, Maryland for Sunday dinner. Afterwards we would eat fruit chewies and watch Get Smart and Hogan’s Heroes. It was like a Rockwell painting.

In 1969, Grandma broke a hip, and she died of a heart attack 6 months later. I remember her funeral, which was so decorous and Episcopalian that it would appear as a first result if one were to google for "Restrained displays of WASP grief."

I doubt that had Grandma survived into my adulthood, she would have been forthcoming about what she may have known or suspected about her husband’s death. I am quite sure it was a complete mystery to Nancy, although it undoubtedly marked her terribly. She was adopted at 3, and certainly had a psychic scar from a babyhood we knew nothing about but could not have been, by definition, a happy one. Then the only father she knew disappeared when she was 6. At 19, Poor Nancy fell in love with an older married man who led her on cruelly for several years until it was exposed that he never intended to get a divorce, in fact, he’d never even filed, much less separated from his clueless wife.

Nancy never got over it. She never even dated again, and when her Mother died and her treasured in-laws (us) had to move to New York, she wilted, rudderless. She died at 37, just 5 years after Grandma’s death. Officially the cause of death was pancreatitis, but I think it was a broken heart.

I have been so intrigued by the mystery of my grandfather’s death that it was one of the questions I posed to a psychic I consulted a few years ago (a very reputable one as these things go, not someone with a storefront). Wary of giving her too much information from which she could make an educated guess, I merely gave her his birthday. Almost immediately something startling occurred. She flinched as if hit by something that flew at her face. It was not something someone could fake. It was very much as if a hose has struck her eye.

Dumbfounded, I could not speak for a minute. Then I told her the specifics of the situation, and asked point blank if she had any sense of why he killed himself. She answered without hesitation: "grief." I asked her if it was of a physical or spiritual nature. She replied:"spiritual. Spiritual."

Of course I am no more immune than anyone to the syndrome of projecting my experience when positing a cause for my grandfather’s death. The encounter with the psychic sealed my theory that my grandfather may have been homosexual. I think he was in love with someone, perhaps someone he worked with who had been sent to fight. I think he received a telegram that this person was killed.

This love may never have been expressed or acted upon. But it is not hard to imagine that such a dolorous secret may have been enough to cause him to see no hope for happiness in his life as it was presently constituted. One simply does not abandon a seemingly prosperous career and healthy family for no reason.

I imagine the police informing my grandmother of her husband's death. I see her looking at the telegram that was delivered with his effects in the car. I see her crumpling it up, perhaps burning it. If she hadn’t known what was wrong in their marriage, she knew something was not right. Now she knew what that something was. It must have been devastating. Now two people would never know the gratification of love and passion in their life. My grandmother never dated, or remarried.

She certainly would have kept it a secret from her sons and daughter. What I find so extraordinary is that they never seemed to have discussed it among themselves. My father and his two brothers got together once or twice late in life, and got drunk. My Uncle Donn, who is known for non-stop talking, asserted to me that they never spoke of it.

And yet it was an act that unquestionably defined their lives. Whatever the answer to the question of why my grandfather killed himself, there is no doubt that the love of his family was not enough to keep him from taking such an irrevocable step.

It is no mystery that such a legacy cannot but have haunted its inheritors.

MCO 2004

Face toward the Sun

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January 9, 2005

Here's my new anti-anxiety strategy. I wake up in the morning, have a cup of coffee, and watch carefully to see if the caffeine is giving me the jitters or not. Then I (take my umbrella--now) and take a walk down the block. I concentrate on the fact that no matter what the weather, there is always light. What more proof than the existence of a higher power could we need that the sun comes up each and every day? What better embodiment of the power of the cosmos can we have than the life-giving energy that has never, not once, in the history of the universe, not appeared on a daily basis? I let the light flow through me, keeping aware of my (and all of our tendency) to block it, hide from it, refract it. Then I take a Lexapro, and watch carefully to see if that might induce anxiety in spite of its purpose to do the opposite. Then I eat some breakfast (usually just a yogurt because of late my tummy is a little too nervous for a real breakfast) and turn on the computer.

If I needed anymore evidence of a higher power, it was given proof to me last night my the fact that I went to a meeting with an old friend, and we are almost exactly at the same stage of sobriety. This person and I have a past with so much wreckage we might as well be Leonardio diCaprio and Kate Winslet bobbing in the North Atlantic after the Titanic has sunk. But AA is literally a lifeboat pulling us in. A lifeboat that's big enough for every survivor. As we talked later at a diner, and then in the car in front of where he is staying, I kept thinking that this is what we are survivors. Indelibly marked by the experience that brought us here, but we did not go down, after all, with the ship. And the fear that underlay so much of our using together was lifted. We are still afraid, separately, (he suffers from the same attacks that I do) but at least together we found it immeasurably easy to talk, talk, and talk. We didn't "need" any enhancer. We never did of course, but we were not ready to see that. If either of us had tried to get sober before this moment, the other would have rejected it. And now we both are embracing it. We used to be "different," now we're the "same." Two extremely talented drunks and addicts who don't need to drink or use to bring our artistic expression to the world.

He shared that the blog (and the daily threat of drug tests) finally got him sober. I needed prison. Thank God he escaped it, he would have not done well. (No one does "well" in prison, but I did about as well as can be hoped. I had my sister and a large supportive family. he doesn't).

The speaker last night was a fantastic lady with 37 years of sobriety. The anonymous principles of the program prevail upon me not to share too much what goes on in the rooms, suffice to say she shared a story about surrendering when she lost a precious family heirloom, and how that opened up the space for it to come back into her life. This is what we must do with the art that is temporarily somewhere else. If the powers that be mean for his art to come back to us, it will. In the meantime his new work is extraordinary, ironically, hanging in the house directly across from my old apartment. We well revisit it tonight when I go to pick him up and take him to another meeting.

I started working on the promised essay on my Grandfather last night. I hope to post it later.

Go toward the light, Carol Ann. (That is a line from Poltergeist. But what entry would be mine without a dollop of humor?)

MCO 2005

Good News/Bad News

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January 8, 2005

The bad new is that I am stll suffering from overwhelming anxiety attacks that literally put me to bed. Once there I breathe deeply, and steadily, and try to just be with it. Sometimes I read the Big Book (of AA, not the Bible), sometimes I read whatever book I'm reading, sometimes I make a phone call. But mostly I try to pray or meditate, calm down and even doze. When I finally get too bored, or have to pee for the 9th time, I get back up, turn NPR back on, and get back on the computer or do things I must do.

The good news is that at no moment have I been feeling like alcohol or drugs would be an appropriate response/salve to the anxiety. Every time I go to a meeting (which I do daily) I hear that this is an entirely normal emotion for early sobriety. Whether my particular brand of sobriety has elements of internalized homophobia or genetic predisposition is really beside the point. We all go into adulthood with an immense amount of fear about the world, alcoholics are different in that the substance magically treats those fears in a way it does not for non-alcoholics. And to a man, those that stay sober in AA share how much better it gets. I have faith that it will get better because I see it every night. I may up my meetings to twice a day though. Perhaps a nooner will alleviate an afternoon attack. They are time-consuming and fairly debilitating.

This evening will be a mini-miracle simply because I am going to a meeting with someone I never thought in a million years would get sober, much less like the meetings. He was as resistant to the idea as possibly imaginable.

Gonna try to take a whack at my Grandfather's Suicide Essay though. And Andrea got me back my car for the weekend, so at least I have wheels to get to this meeting in the pouring rain. L.A. is having one of its once-every-ten-years extremely wet winters. Yes, I'll drive carefully.

Breathe, he said.

MCO 2005

Fast and Furious

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January 7 2005

It is cold and rainy today, by L.A. standards, very cold and very rainy. I am so grateful to have had a car to bring back with me from Albuquerque, not so much so I can drive it, but because I could loan it to Andrea, who had a fender bender and whose own car is in the shop. Without it she would be hard pressed to get to her massage therapy appointments, while I get to hole up in her cozy apartment reading Augusten Burroughs under the covers if I choose. (I was so tempted, but my list of projects are long and require much time at this Beast of Burden we call the computer.)

I am isolating another source of the anxiety that I treated with drugs and alcohol. The prodigious amount of choice I faced in the past 12 years. Living on disability and family generosity and odd jobs (very odd, sometimes) these past years opened up an astonishing range of choices as far as how I could spend my time, and this became almost oppressive. At first, when being permanently struck down by AIDS was such a palpable threat, I chose Doors #1, #2, AND #3. I got money from viatical settlements (perfectly legal) and traveled on a whim, went out to dinner constantly, explored the internet, wrote screenplays. And every night, "rewarded" myself with generous dollops of booze, and then, later, drugs. High, I was alleviated from deciding what to do next. It inevitably involved some sort of immediate gratification, but the goal was less important than the context. It didn't matter much what I did, (mostly a lot of sex and a lot of work), I was feeling good and everything was okay.

Sobriety is like a mirror image, but someone has turned on the lights, and it is sunlight (except today) instead of track lighting guiding me. My concious contact with God (as I understand her) is the context that makes all the specific choices okay, if still a bit anxiety-producing. In this process, the blog has become an invaluable anchor, or now, a bookend--the other being a daily meeting. This is an apt metaphor, because books are what I want to fill in between the bookends. Not pretty knicknacks to decorate the shelves, but healthy artistic output that everyone can enjoy and hopefully find inside of hope and laughter and even a little wisdom.

This puts me in a conundrum as far as job-hunting. Albuquerque's immensely friendlier economic climate would allow me to survive on my disability and avail me of the close support of my sister, making it far easier to produce the literary output. Any work I could get in LA, however, is far more likely to avail me of the kind of connections that help publish a book, write magazine articles, build on collaborations of the past years that were immensely productive in spite of the substance abuse. Part of me wants to redeem all that hard work rather than consign it to a past I paint overbroadly with a condemning brush. I may have been medicating, but that didn’t mean the medication never worked. It worked rather well for much of the time, and I did a lot of very good work in spite, even sometimes because of it.

Also, writing is a lonely profession. I think I was happiest of all my year editing Genre (1997-1998), because I was never lonely, working in an office, collaborating daily, and seeing my work in print. Too bad I simply couldn’t live on $20,000 a year, and the office politics were truly life-threatening (I was hospitalized for pneumonia that year).

So yesterday I saw my Parole Officer and it seems that I shall know in 40 days if my transfer of venue is approved. I told her I was going to have to job hunt, because I couldn’t stay where I am forever, and I doubt I could get a new apartment without a job, and if I got a good job I wouldn’t want to leave. She was a little distressed at the prospect because of the amount of paperwork it has forced on her, but hell, I tried to get this underway from prison, 4 months ago. They lost the paperwork. So I mollified her by promising to put her in the acknowledgements if (when!) I publish the blog.

Then on the way back I stopped by the hair salon where my ex-lover David works. He was so generous with telling me how wonderful it was to see me sober and how much more likable a person I am. (Funny how that works: notice how while every alcoholic/addict wonders if he/she should get/needs to get sober, there is NEVER any doubt in the minds of those around them). Anyway his lover is a landlord with studios to rent in Hollywood, and he told me he’d talk to him. And I might be able to stay with them prior to that or if still awaiting Albuquerque, so I don’t overstay my welcome here.

Then last night after a meeting I spoke with the publisher of a gay magazine here in LA, who promised to check out the blog. I’m hoping to serialize excerpts, and he promised to look at it. This is precisely the kind of networking that could conceivably expose me to an audience with a somewhat more promising demographic than Albuquerque’s.

So, basically, I’m now in a win/win situation, and I’m trying to keep that in mind. Wherever I end up will obviously be where I’m supposed to end up. Do the footwork and let go of the results. Let the Universe let me know what I should be doing. The miracles, after all, are happening fast and furious, really.

MCO 2004

Which Step Was This?

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January 5, 2004

I shared in a great meeting tonight that I made it my mission to be the least stereotypical drug dealer in L.A. The house was clean, the dog was walked, I always answered the phone, and I treated my clients ethically, cutting off those who were obviously ruining their lives with it. I was catering to the illusion that I was keeping my life manageable, until I was forced to live in the ultimate unmanageability of prison, where I was managed down to the smallest detail.

This seems to be blast from the past week. At the meeting I ran into someone I used to work with, and, like everybody else in L.A., had a huge crush on. We spoke a bit about the difference in him between then and now, and what he had discovered was authenticity. And it showed. He was still extremely attractive, but no longer intimidating. He had completely lost the unapproachable veneer. It was very refreshing.

In any case, the email that follows testifies to a certain degree of redemption that existed even in the darkness. I think that my initial experience in AA in 1986 was still in my bones. I just don't know what step the following actually represents. Ironies abound in this life.

Hi, Marc,

S. S. here...yikes, that name must conjure up lots of memories and images. I found your email address because I wanted to write and thank (again) for saving my life.

You not selling to me that time I called you on the phone after I got out of the hospital and a sober living house saved my life. I will forever be grateful to you and I have such respect, affection and appreciation for you beyond words. I will never forget the loving lecture you gave me on the phone when I called you asking for drugs. I remember pulling over to the side of the road and listening, listening, listening. You telling me you heard I had been sick, in the hospital, from the overdose, and you felt I should use that newfound sobriety to rebuild my life. You put a spark into me that I didn't have at the time. You reminded me of my worth, my talent, you told me to respect the gift of my writing and to give sobriety a chance. You could have easily taken the road of selling to me but you thought far beyond that, and thought of me and what was best for me, when I, at that moment, didn't care and was fleetingly willing to toss it all way for one more fix, despite the fact that I had spent five weeks in a hospital and had nearly died several times. When the ambulance came to get me, and my apartment was covered with my own blood from vomiting and more, I was in shock and I heard later that they said I was only two hours away from death, had my building manager not heard my screams from the bathroom window and called 911. And, despite all of that, the compulsion to use was greater and you saved me from myself.

I remember that I momentarily didn't listen. I was intent on getting drugs and so I went to another dealer and bought a package. But your words were so haunting and powerful and meaningful to me, and had such truth, that I couldn't do it. So that's when I deposited the baggy under your mat and called you to alert you that it was there for you to do with as you wished. That was my last attempt at using, and it was before of you and your love for me and for respecting my worth as a human being -- you were a drug dealer with a conscience! -- but you were also a friend, obviously, that cared for me beyond selling me product.

That was so powerful, your words to me on the phone and your refusing to sell to me, that I couldn't go through with it. Because of that, I am more than two and a half years sober and I have a great, new wonderful life. A new apt, a new car, my friends are back in my life and I'm taking writing classes and I have my passion back for my craft. Thank the Lord, I date, I have lots of sober sex (who thought it would be possible?), and I don't think of myself as diseased and damaged and hopelessly corrupted and dirty and unworthy of love or anything good in life. I do outreach work in AA, I attend meetings, I have a great sponsor. I had the privilege of taking J. to his first meeting ever last week -- what a joy that was, and, as I told J., of all the situations and places we have been, and all that we have gone through in the decade-plus that we've known each other, what a miracle that we would both survive and I would be the one taking him to a meeting -- at the AT Center in Silverlake where I had shared about him, without mentioning his name of course, over the years, about his struggle and whether I could have him in my life while he was in active addiction. He was also one of the ones I always prayed for when it was time to pray for those in active addiction outside of the rooms. And there he was, last week, sitting next to me at an NA meeting...

I am so happy that you are sober -- I have looked at your blog and your writing is magnificent -- and so honest. Such courage.

Thank you again...I hope we can be in each other's lives in a very new way when the time comes.

[HERE'S THE KICKER. I HAD COMPLETELY FORGOTTEN ABOUT THIS INCIDENT. NEEDLESS TO SAY, IT MADE ME FEEL A LITTLE BETTER ABOUT HAVING FACILITATED A LOT OF WRECKAGE WHEN I DEALT DRUGS. A LOT OF FUN, TOO, BUT AT A VERY HIGH PRICE FOR SOME. BUT I HONESTLY FEEL NO WORSE THAN I DID ABOUT SERVING DRINKS AS A BARTENDER FOR MANY ALCOHOLICS. I DO BELIEVE IN A SOCIETY WHERE CONSENTING ADULTS SHOULD BE ABLE TO DO WHAT THEY WANT WITH THEIR BODIES. EVEN WITH ALL THE SUBSTANCE ABUSE, IT'S A HELLUVA LOT BETTER THAN SAUDI ARABIA]

Tomorrow I see my Parole Officer. Today I completed my resume. Moving forward.

MCO 2005

Old and New Friends

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January 4, 2004

I woke up today to an email from someone with whom I had been intensely connected as an artistic collaborator during our mutual using. He is a fabulously talented artist, and I had very much hoped that with the proceeds of my ill-gotten gains dealing, I could set him up in a gallery and by that means be able to leave the business and earn a legitimate income.

As a result of my arrest, he ended up losing the gallery, and being forced into rehab himself. He is now sober, and sent me a beautiful letter telling me he has remained so and is also trying to reconstruct his life without crutches. He had a childhood having the Southern Baptist Religion shoved down his throat, and as is often the case with gay men who have been beaten up at an early age by the Bible, they often recoil from the Program as too reminiscent of dogma and church. I cannot fault them for this, there are times when the emphasis on the "Big Book," for example, irritates me enormously. But it is simply a compendium of individual experiences which provide elements with which any alcoholic can identify. It does not profess to be the word of God, and frankly, if alcoholics could depend so much of a bottle of liquor for succor, it follows they can be equally dependent on a book. It is true that many people become "addicted" to the program as they were to substances. But it is an immeasurably healthier addiction for people who tend to get addicted. If they didn't, they wouldn't be there in the first place.

Anyway it was a beautiful letter, which I hope to post pending his permission. It does attest to my own contention that "It's all about redemption, stupid."

I caught a meeting last night with a speaker who had to have been the funniest speaker I've ever heard. There really is SO much LAUGHTER in those rooms. He had 22 years of sobriety, and boy, you really wanted some of what he had.

I spoke to my doctor and decided some of my anxiety was psychological, and some of it--given my family history--could very well be physiological. So I am back on the Lexapro, and I think it is helping. At the very least, it certainly doesn't make me "high" in any way. But I hope it levels the playing field a bit.

After the meeting last night, I did screw up my courage and ask someone if he might consider being my interim sponsor. He turned out to be looking for a sponsee, and he is a writer to boot, so at the very least we should have a lot in common. He's an attractive man, but very often attractions dissipate quickly with gay men if they interact in a different context. Sometimes they don't though, in which case I'll look for a big badass bulldyke to sponsor me instead. (I had an ambiguous relationship with my first sponsor in 1986. This was a big mistake.) The worst that can happen is that I make a new friend. I need all I can get these days.

Gotta get on to the jobhunt.

Marc