March, 1997 LSD TAbloid

This is LSD Tabloid, the monthly callboard and events newsletter of the Radical Faerie and Friends' creative/ healing spirit collective, Love's Supreme Desire. Next tabloid deadline is April 1.

Tell-a-Fool events & info line /Fax: 415-333-9549, e-mail: bloobird@sirius.com Thanks to David Kerlick, back issues of LSD Tabloid are available on the World Wide Web at http://www.eskimo.com:80/~davidk/faeries/pubs.htm

It's almost Spring in my beloved, beautiful San Francisco. My home town, Cincinnati, Ohio, is all wet

Last time I talked about how I wanted my life to be fun, different, psychedelic, interesting, new. And you know what? It's starting to happen. The old neurotic, needy me has begun to fade into the background and a new, happier, more fulfilled me is coming into being. The new me has let go of control, of old pain, of expectations. Well, I would be lying if I were to say that ALL of my neurosis are gone, but then, why would I WANT all of my neurosis to go away? My goal is not to turn into some buffed and bleached perfect grain of white rice, but just to be more happy and functional in the day-to-day world, and it feels like I'm beginning to reach this goal. Sometimes I wish I didn't have to get HIV to make this changeover, but the universe works in kooky ways and hey, I'm not one to nitpick.

The biggest change from last LSD Tabloid is that all of my immediate family now knows that I am HIV-positive. I wrote them all a four-page letter about the whole thing, reassuring them that my wonderful partner Elroy is being a true Prince Charming (no surprise there), that he is helping me go to a good holistic doctor, that our home life is, if anything, happier than it ever was, that my friends have been right there for me, and that I'm trying to accept this as a growth and learning experience, not a "tragedy" or a "shame." You know, something along the lines of well, this is a plague, a modern plague, and it just caught up with me, that's all. People have always gotten bugs, gotten sick, died, and gone on to the next phase. Trying not to take it too gooey or sad or syrupy or any of that soap opera shit. Also, of course, I don't plan to just go out without fighting back, although I don't intend to look at this from a militaristic approach, like "I WILL TEAR THE HEAD OFF THIS VIRUS AND THROW UP DOWN ITS THROAT." I'm practicing an active acceptance and release while keeping my health and my spirits way up. Sort of a Zen Rambo position. I'm writing this thinking, "are you trying to show them how butch you are?" No, I'm not, but it's really true that I am uncomfortable looking at all of this like, "Poor bloobird, struck down in the prime of his youth, he could have had a fabulous career washing dishes."

Anyway, how did my family react to all of this? Well, my mom was kind and sweet even though she's Catholic and has always been uptight about me being gay, though she doesn't lecture or condemn me about it. She's been "tolerant" in a distant sort of way, "loving the sinner but hating the sin," I think they say, euphemistically. She was quite good about it, though, offering to come out to San Francisco if I needed help, or that I could come live with her if I needed, just very wonderful about the whole thing. I wrote her a letter saying, "if I ever doubted that you were in my corner, I don't doubt that any more." When a crisis strikes you, you quickly discover who your friends are. I hope our relationship will become tighter after this, but I'm not going to have exaggerated expectations about it.

My three sisters have all been fabulous so far, and this may open up a whole new level of dialogue and understanding among all of us. I am beginning to see how the fact of mortality in the life of one so close is causing them to face all kinds of tough questions about life in general. I was surprised by the amount of sadness and emotion this has unleashed in them, but perhaps I underestimated their response because of my "Old Me" habit of thinking that I am not all that valued as a person by those in my family. They have proven me wrong.

How has my father reacted? He has made no response whatsoever. I could go on and on about our messy (lack of) relationship, but what's the point? I can't be who he would like me to be and he can't be who I would like him to be. I've finally decided that that's just the way it is, the way it was meant to be. I could not be the "me" I am today if it were not for my experiences with my father. And I like who I am, and I'm even happier about who I am becoming. So what, we can't be a part of each other's lives. Maybe it's better this way. I already feel more free, like I'm no longer living in the shadow of his expectations for me, and so I can be and do whatever I want, with no back sass from his bad Republican self. Of course it's deeper than this, but I'm letting go for a change, just letting go.

We've been behaving towards each other for all my life like Doctor Frankenstein and his Monster; my dad disappointed that I am an art fag, a spiritual seeker, a fuckup, whatever he thinks I am, and me just trying to get him to love me for who I am, his son, a human being, someone he used to care about. But that melodramatic scenario has gone on quite long enough, for both of us, thank you, and I'm not going to beg anymore. I have better examples of fathers already nurturing me (and they are gay, thank you). I'm finally coming to terms with this deep anger and sadness, and yes, resentment, that I have always felt about my relationship with my father. Until recently, I always directed that anger at MYSELF. I allowed him to make me feel clumsy, stupid, unacceptable over all these years, I had internalized his cold appraisal and it had beaten me down. But no more. I suddenly feel free of him, free to accept my anger at him. I am forgiving myself for treating myself so harshly all these years in his shadow. A big part of my internalized homophobia was coming from him, and it has held me back from enjoying my voice, my talents, my life to its fullest. The healing has begun, and if he chooses to exit my life, I forgive him, but I am going to thrive without him, no fear, no regrets, no more whining. All this time I had been so afraid of rejection, and now that it's happened, It's no big deal. A fear confronted is a fear defeated. Thanks, dad, for everything.

So much for that. "Next!"

This is the paragraph where I just throw in stuff I wanted to say, haphazard-like. I'm reading a biography of Alan Ginsberg by Barry Miles called Ginsberg: a biography, by Harper Perennial. Wow, fascinating, inspiring, what a guy, what a life. Rory is almost finished doing the desktop-publishing of the second Love's Supreme Desire 'zine called LSDXXX. It should be ready to distribute by next month, maybe. Congratulations to my friend Flynn DeMarco (multi-talented performer, designer of the cover art for the next issue of LSDXXX) for taking the editor job at Odyssey magazine, I just know you'll turn that rag around. Here's to photographer Lisa Law, author of the book Flashing on the Sixties, for spending three or so hours on an impromptu house-cleaning at the home of my best friend Haia the Messenger. Honey, this was no easy task. Anyone who knows Haia T.M. knows that that boy, bless his heart, is tolerant of a mess. Sister removed like sixteen bags of trash from his house and did it with a smile, just because she loves Haia. Now that's nice! Spent a wonderful afternoon with the cartoonist Robert Triptow (once editor of Gay Comix) a few weeks ago, thrift shopping in the Mission, where I bought four bedraggled off-brand Barbie-wannabes and some clothing (remind me not to carry my credit card when I'm stoned). Robert and I have discussed collaborating on a comic strip and I CAN'T wait! I'm planning to go to the summer solstice gathering at Zuni Mountain Sanctuary in New Mexico (contact dbalsam@prodigy.com.).

Hale-Bopp

The comet called to me last night. It was 4:35 AM. "Come outside and let's look at each other," it said. So I, sleepy-eyed, but unable not to respond flash-exchange brain waves- comet Hale-Bopp waves walked almost in a trance to the middle of the panhandle and looked towards Coit tower---giant Priapus on the hill and yes, there it-he-she-us---was!! Trails of light behind him---trails, see!! Ram Dass and Tim Leary were riding on a tail and up there also was my home planet Venus. So we were three stellar-earth-sex soulmates. Groovy beatnik cosmic playmates out for a gander at each other. I was trance-fixed. I was fixed! Yep, I was fixed! I worked again! So I figured it was time to go back home and hug Sam, my grey cat familiar. He's on my lap now.

---Haia the Messenger

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