Hi, everyone -- I'd hoped to send everyone a separate and custom-fitted letter to explain my extended absenses from internet-land, but i got such a good couple of letters from two young Spaniard friends, and wrote the following (if the language seems simplified, it's because Alberto isn't quite fluent -- Alvaro is). For those of you at the Jonifest, if i seemed a little wooden or reserved at the time, this may give some clue as to why. (Robert and I met these two kids because they'd driven away from Alamo Square, leaving behind on a bench a backpack with a digital camara and both their wallets. The cops couldn't be bothered, so we called every number we could find in the backpack, and finally found them at a B&B. We've been friends ever since. They're young -- 24 and 25 -- and wonderful, and i guess fate decided we had to meet). Finally, for those of you who think Prez Bush is swell -- my apologies if you take offense at my potshot. Can't help how you feel -- something I'm trying to learn. Love to all of you.
LETTER TO ALBAVO AND ALBERTO: GLASS FULL OF WATER Hi, Alvaro (and Alberto -- copy of this letter to him, cuz I'm lazy today)! Thanks for your letters of support! In a message dated 10/14/02 2:17:07 AM, [EMAIL PROTECTED] writes: << I'm not as mature as you, however I have had some experiences in that way, and I know that most of the time it's hard to explain how you feel, in a sincere way.>> Au contraire, Alvaro! You are mature beyond your years! <<At the same time, Robert's family is not fair, so you have to encourage Robert to fight for his rights.>> That has been the problem -- Robert knows I'm strong, and he often asks me to stand up for him -- but then he pulls me back when he thinks I've said or done "enough". This drives me crazy, even though I know it's perfectly within his rights. He asks me to be "supportive" (Oh! how I've grown to hate that word -- it's overused in American English -- if one does *anything at all* that frustrates or annoys or disagrees with someone, you're not being "supportive enough". Crap.) without having input -- or worse, he asks for my input or help, and whines if he doesn't like what I do -- or if he's unhappy at the outcome -- it becomes my fault. A favorite writer of mine once described his feelings during a period of crisis as being like "walking around with a glass full of water, needing not to spill a drop, and going about [his] business as if everything were as usual". That's how I've been feeling for some time -- although (fortunately) when I met you and Alberto -- has it been a year now?? I can't remember exactly when you guys were here -- I was still relatively sane. I guess I'm still sane, although only through sheer force of will, of which I have a lot. I was visiting a dear friend yesterday -- he's been through *so much* in the last 15 years -- he's also Irish-American, he's a fellow survivor of AIDS, cancer and pneumocystis, and as luck would have it, we're both having a particularly bad year. I went to see him yesterday because he called me to make sure *I* was okay. He had become suicidal while I was back East (In R.I., upstate New York, New England and Montreal, in late August and early September), probably due to his being on Interleukin-2 or -4 (you may know already, but the interleukin family of "drugs" -- I think they're steroids, possibly made by the liver (I should know this!), and they've been in experimental use for some time to try to boost the immune system). I didn't learn about Greg's becoming suicidal until I got back from our trip. Anyway, as I said, he'd called to make sure *I* was okay, and then when I asked if *he* was okay, he started crying. He was in pain, and he was out of pain medication. I took the next bus to his house (I have extra pain medication -- I don't use all that I get) and gave him some of mine. He remarked, when he first opened the door "Oh, you have a purple shirt on -- [are you]thinking of changes?" I laughed. I'm *always* wearing green and/or purple -- I have to force myself to wear other colors. But Greg was an interior designer for many years before he got too sick (he's 51 or 52 now), and he told me that when a client wanted to paint the walls purple or, say, wanted a purple sofa, he always tried to get out of the job -- people who like purple, he said, always changed their minds a hundred times and drove him crazy. :-). But he said it was also a deeply spiritual color. Green, of course, means a link to nature -- it has other meanings, but I can't think of them right now. So, in addition to all the other things Greg and I have in common, he went nuts (crazy) about a month or so ago, and I'm there (i.e., also crazy) now. My stubborn will, and my sense of humor, keep me in control. But my glass of water is very full; and "President" Bush (I use quotation marks because he wasn't legitimately elected) is hell-bent on waging a war with Iraq at all costs, the bombing in Bali took a horrible toll on people from all over the world but particularly Australians, there is a *truly* crazy person near Washington, DC shooting people for sport -- all of these things make me feel like someone is trying to put *more* water in my glass -- but then I realize that these things I just mentioned are water in *everyone's* glasses, not just mine (an egotist always thinks of himself first :-]). And there are people with much worse woes than mine -- I'm not starving, no one I know has been blown up (yet), and although I have AIDS, I live in a place where medications are readily available (unlike most of Africa, and many parts of Asia). <<But overall, stay ZEN: things in life happen for a reason, and everyone of us will receive what it takes. I hope that these words will encourage you to go on. Otherwise, you have all my support and do not hesitate to send me your thoughts through the net :-) I'll do my best to encourage you, just as you did with me some months ago. >> Excellent advice, Alvaro. I sometimes lose sight of the big picture. I know I've been lucky/blessed in life in many ways, but lately, as I told Greg yesterday, through tears, lately I've felt like screaming at the universe "Okay, *enough* now, I *get* it, I don't *deserve* this, it isn't ***funny*** anymore [this last part was a joke]!" Selfish as always. Greg, who could understand my rage better than perhaps anyone else i know, nodded and sensibly gave me the name of his therapist. :-). Whom I intend to call. The most surprising part of our visit was Greg's telling me that I was his role model. What??? Me??? I'm barely sane now, so it particlarly surprised me. But he said that I'd gone through all the same things that he had without ever becoming a drug addict, and without several breakdowns; and I can find the humor in even the most bleak situations. Okay, well, he's right on those counts. But the real joke is, I have always considered *him* a role model. Alvaro (and Alberto -- I'll answer your most recent letter later today, or soon), thanks for your serene and apt advice. Big bear hug from Big Walt, and love to both of you, Walt
