In a forsaken block of Santa Monica Boulevard, off the street and through an imposing industrial alley, a Hollywood disco opened in the late 1970s that made promises the other gay clubs were loathe to keep. The two-story face of a clown, with an enormous, yawning...
When he conducted the funerals, Tom Bonderenko tells me, he always wore his priestly garments and white stole. Even when no one showed up for the graveside service. “It was important to show dignity and respect,” Tom says. He taps the coffee cup in his lap nervously....
Each year, several hundred people living with HIV – primarily gay men, with a happy sprinkling of straight women and our supporters – embark on the HIV Cruise Retreat for a week of fun and frolic on the high seas. The event started with a group of HIV positive friends...
(I can't resist posting this each Holiday Season. The video below is my very favorite, of the more than 70 I have produced over the years. Enjoy!) My mother's home here in Shreveport, Louisiana, was fraught with excitement last week. Christmas decorations littered the...
This post will never be as romantic as I would like it to be. And it could never be as romantic as the truth. On the evening of July 22, 2012, Michael Mitchell went to a mixer at Cobalt, a gay club in Washington, DC. The international AIDS conference was being held in...
ACT UP has always intimidated me. In the 1980’s, while working at LA Shanti to provide emotional support to those dying of AIDS, I doubted my activist cred while watching the dramatic, inspiring actions of ACT UP. Everyone has a role to play, of course, but I so...
My fear of all things anal began when I was an early teen. My older brother David took great delight in bursting into our bathroom to startle me, especially if I was on the john. And, since I was a pubescent redhead, his sudden visits included a lot of laughing and...
Before my interview with activist Sean Strub, author of Body Counts: A Memoir of Politics, Sex, AIDS, and Survival, let me share a revealing story. It was late 2011 and my life was in shambles. The breakup of a long term relationship had sent me into a spiral,...
My friend Carlton is a chain smoker, even if all his cigarettes are imaginary. His standard pose consists of one hand resting on his hip -- elbow jutting out as if in the midst of a runway strut -- while the other arm is forever in motion, his hand swiveling...
We're on a dirt road in the cotton fields, sitting in the back of his Plymouth. It had been my idea to stop and look at the sky, and it doesn't come off like a sneaky move now, because the moon is full and bright and gorgeous. I've been playing along but I wish he...
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