Volume 1 Book 1 Part 6 of

by Steve Schalchlin
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July 1996. El Lay.
Slowly my health continues to recover as
The Zephyr Production rehearses & opens.

Monday, July 1, 1996
First Day in the Theatre.

Late this afternoon, after Jimmy and I had worked long hours with the cast down at the Zephyr, there was only one thing in this whole world that we wanted: to come home to a cool apartment. Instead, we came home to oven that could bake bread. I saw Vicki, our apt. manager in the courtyard, and she said the A/C guy would be here any minute.

I promised Jimmy I wouldn't be a bitch today. That I would accept whatever came our way. But I was having some problems with my IV. When the nurse changes the dressing the last thing she does is put a large clear square piece of plastic over the whole site. I can see the catheter coming from the vein clearly. The danger of infection comes when any moisture creeps up under there.

And I was sweating, so except for the edges of the patch, most of it had come up off the skin. The catheter itself, which works it way out of the vein a little bitty bit each day (from use of the arm) had come out a whole lot more than ever before. Now, since the catheter is very long and nearly reaches my heart (from my arm), there's no chance it will totally pull out, but because the plastic square is not tight to the skin around the "wound" there's nothing holding it in.

I felt some anxiety about it, to say the least. Well, the A/C guy came and, of course, told us it needed a part which he didn't think he could get right now. I called Vicki and told her it was sweltering in here, and that my IV patch was becoming dislodged from my skin and that I felt very panicked that if I had to stay in this heat all night long, it would come off leaving vein exposed to god-knows-what. It's not as if my body can fight off infections.

Well, great lady that she is, she said she'd tell the guy to go find one somewhere and if he couldn't we could have the part off her A/C--and she's got three kids! The good news is that 45 minutes later, he somehow managed to find a part the suddenly wonderful cool air was pumping into our place. We gave the guy a 10 dollar tip, which surprised the hell out of him, and I called Lifeline, the company which delivers and nurses me at home, to tell them to send a nurse out the next day to change this thing.

You know, I hate to say this, but (whisper), "I'm now officially tired of Louie. He's been great for me. He has saved my life. But it's really a drag to have to stay confined at home every night. And it's tiring to have to unplug him and drag him along everything I move. Just getting to the fridge becomes a ballet. Getting to the bathroom becomes an Olympic event.

And little things really annoy me. Sometimes I get into bed and realize I've forgotten something. It means I have to fumble around in the dark to find where I'm plugged into the wall, stumble in the darkness kicking obstructions out of the way so Louie won't tump over, get what I need, walk back and try to find the wall socket again.

And this big plastic bandage and catheter site. It's so ugly out in public. I can see people's faces kind of trying to not look at it, but it makes my arm look like it's made of plastic. And there's this big white bandage and tape with a port further down my arm--you know, I think what I really hate about it, is that it makes me look like a patient.

Part of getting better is to be treated normally and to feel normal. It's impossible with this thing on my arm. I can't pick up anything heavy, I can't work out. In this heat, I can't wear long sleeves to cover it up. Oh, bitch bitch bitch. Here this thing has given the best health in three years and all I can do is complain that it "looks ugly." How petty I can be. Well, enough of that.

Backing up, our first day in the theatre was so much fun. When we rehearsed in the studio last week, the problem was its size. It was too small to do proper blocking. But today, Jimmy just had us run the show all the way through without much stopping so we could get a feel for the stage and so he could see which parts we were having the most trouble with. Most of the others had worked really hard on memorization so they were much better prepared than I was, I'm ashamed to say. (But HEY I WAS HOT YESTERDAY!!).

Chip continues to astonish me with his brilliance. But today's revelation was how good Francesca Roberts is. She is so natural on stage, instinctively reacting to things and really being "there." I still find it embarrassing when one of the actors looks me in the eye while we're doing lines. I'm just not used to it. But it's becoming easier. I see that when we connect this way, if I read their "truth," it becomes a part of me and I stop "acting" and just play along.

Chip also told me afterward, "You're doing very well, Mrs. Ricardo"--an I Love Lucy reference that occurs when Lucy is NOT doing well acting in a move shoot. He said, in rehearsal, it's good to just take the way you feel and apply it to the character at that moment. That I should read the lines differently each time so that I don't get locked into something I can't get out of. Just play around with it, he seemed to be saying.

Another hero in this is Larry Dusich, our stage manager. He is working purely as a volunteer, and yet today he brought all the set pieces we needed for rehearsing, tables, stools, chairs. It was amazing. He puts in an extraordinary amount of time and energy and, yes, he is another who is tirelessly giving us his time so that this show can be something special.

Just before we started, I stopped in at a piano rental place to check prices on getting a baby grand for the performances. I so want a real piano and not an electronic one. It's vitally important for the sound. But the salesman was out and I don't know yet how much we'll have to come up with.

Hey, more good news about my health. I have officially crossed the 20 pound weight barrier. I have gained 20 pounds in five weeks. Man it feels good. I feel so alive everyday now. Singing my songs, acting with these brilliant actors; it's more than I ever dreamed possible. How often does it happen that one can dream dreams and then realize you didn't dream big enough! That the reality of what is happening exceeds the dream you had!

Now, if I can just memorize this script...

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Tuesday, July 2, 1996
Incredible News: Viral Load and Billboard.

Here's the incredible news: my viral load test results, the first test I've had since starting last month on the new protease inhibitor, Crixivan, is beyond my wildest dreams. My viral load -- the amount of virus in my blood has dropped from the dangerous 60,000 parts to -- I can't believe it:

Under 100.

That's right. Under 100. From 60,000 to under 100. That means that the drug has, for the moment, stopped the virus dead in its tracks and my body now has a chance to rebuild its immune system because it doesn't have to spend all its time fighting the virus and losing!

This is a miracle and it means I have a new lease on life. Again, remember at the end of last month, we thought it was all over. Now, it's as if God Himself just took a magic wand and cleaned them out of my body. It means the virus is virtually undetectable in my blood!!

Now my t-cells can grow again and if all goes well, we can get me out of the danger zone for most of the worst opportunistic infections. My t-cell count has been around 40. This means I am open to CMV retinitus (which causes blindness), MAC--a disease of the intestinal tract that causes death, MAI, cancer, PCP (pneumonia, which I've already had once and am very susceptible to again), and more.

But now my t-cells have a real chance to go up above 100, maybe close to 200! (800 to 1200 is normal, so I won't be out of the woods as far as life threatening infections go), but this is probably why my diarrhea has stopped too. I should get the new t-cell count today so when I do, you'll be the first to know.

The other great news came to me over the fax machine from Ronda Espy at Bob-A-Lew Music. I am featured in Billboard Magazine this week in Irv Lichtman's column called "Words and Music." He put "Life-affirming 'The Last Session' in the headline and in the second paragraph, he described my own struggle with AIDS and the victories we are achieving with "The Last Session." He even mentioned ASCAP and National Academy of Songwriters who helped me with the readings. That made them happy for sure!

Our rehearsal today went very well again. And one thing we've done--a very interesting turn of events: Preacher and the Nurse is now an a cappella Gospel doo wop song with full harmonies! It happened while we were practicing the harmonies just trying to get them right. Suddenly we all looked at each other and realized it sounded way better a cappella than it did with the piano! Never expected this at all.

Also today, we met the actor who might be understudying my role, the role of Gideon. He's very cute so he at least has that part right... Hehehe. His name is James and he has extensive Broadway and first class theatrical acting credits. How strange it will be to see someone else play "me." But it will be an enormous amount of work for him so we'll see.

Today we actually audition him and see if he is up to it vocally.

Speaking of vocals, the new strength my body has taken on has done wonders for my voice. I'm hitting the highest notes with such ease. I teach all the girls their parts. If any of the cast members ever get laryngitis, I could sing any of their parts, from soprano on down. It's amazing. It feels like it's been set free.

Under 100. Jim joked that if I live through this, it will totally screw up the marketing of the musical! (He cried when he heard the news about the viral load test. He's been so worried and so full of anxiety--which he keeps much of inside. I hate to see him in pain about me. I love it when I can give him some good news to relieve his mind.)

Under 100. Virtually undetectable.

wow.

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Wednesday, July 3, 1996
...and the T-Cell Count.

It HAD been 40.

It is now...ta da!

125.

This is great news because -- and I should say that we will run new tests in a couple of weeks just to confirm what we've learned in the past two days because they've made mistakes before -- if the results are true, this lifts me out of the danger zone for CMV Retinis (which causes blindness) and MAC, which is a deadly intestinal disease.

Today I felt so good all day. Jimmy, though, has been plagued with horrible back pain for months now. Since he'd rather cut off his leg than see a doctor, he's been putting it off. This morning he finally went to see a chiropractor (the one who was married to Cybil Shepherd, in case you're keeping score), and he found out he has two pinched nerves in his back. He was worried he had a slipped disc or something horrible like that.

Now he and I are quite relieved that it can be treated. We met at little Cafe Luna for lunch with the cast to read lines and stuff. I left, though. Once again, the dressing on my PICC line insertion point was coming off and since it's a little bit red now, I decided to call the nurse and see if I needed someone to come out.

She said to wrap it in tape as well as I could and that they would be out Thursday morning to change the bandage again. It's just been so hot here in L.A. Over 100 degrees fahrenheit.

Not much else to report except that all is quite well.

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Thursday, July 4, 1996
Two "Hollywood" Parties.

Kathleen Freeman, who I've probably mentioned before, is one of the most durable and recognizable actresses whose name you don't know in Hollywood. Her most recent feature was the last "Police Squad" movie. She played the gangster mother who ordered her two gangster boys around. She has been in every sitcom on the planet, usually playing a cleaning woman.

But I remember her face from one of the first movies I ever saw: Jerry Lewis' The Disorderly Orderly. She played the Head Nurse. In fact, she was in nearly every single Jerry Lewis movie made.

Every year she has two parties at her pretty house here in the Valley. It's tucked away in a corner near Victory and Sepulveda and when you turn onto the street, you would think some alien had cut out a perfect and beautiful street from Kansas City or somewhere. Huge lawns surrounded by picket fences. Nice wooden ranch style houses set back from the road. Big backyards. She said that movies frequently shoot here because it looks so midwest.

Her parties are filled with older Hollywood types. Character actors, friends, etc. and for Jimmy and me, going to her place on a holiday is like going to a family reunion of old eccentric relatives you see twice a year. For us, too, it was nice to just get out of the house and do something besides work on the show. We found two poolside chairs under an umbrella and we just sat and watched everyone.

(At one point this nicely appointed woman came up. She was in her late 50s, hair colored black, a bit too much make-up, long dangly earrings made from leather and silver, and a dark (red and black?) sundress that matched the earrings. She was perfect and I told her so. Turns out she used to be the Personal Assistant to the head of Development for ABC for 17 years before Cap Cities bought them out. "They ruined the office," she said, meaning they ruined the network. It's funny to think of a network as an "office.")

One of our favorites was there, an old character actor and former leading man named George Wallace (not the politician). George is famous for one particular role. He was Commander Cody in the early serial, "Commander Cody and the Lost Planet Airmen." He was the precursor of "Rocketman." He wore a jetpack on his back and a big helmet. We love it when he regales us with stories about doing the part, especially the flying sequences.

As we sat there just enjoying the kids in the pool and the folks out on the lawn playing croquet, a beautiful young blonde woman in a black one-piece bathing suit came up to me and introduced herself. She said her name was Bunny Hull and she was on the Board of Directors of National Academy of Songwriters, and that she had heard me sing at the Salute last week. She told me she loved the performance, etc. (I was gracious, of course).

I told her that when I ran NAS, hers was a name I had heard but had never met. You see, when I began at NAS, it was at an all-time low. Most of the "old guard" who began with the Academy had drifted away, and Dan Kirkpatrick and I kinda had to pick up the pieces and just make do with what we had. Bunny was one of those names which drifted around the Academy. Anyway, we had a great talk. ("I also told her I didn't know she was so young and beautiful!").

Also, just to bring in a bit of Hollywood, we saw Elliot Gould there and Shelley Fabares. So we hung out for awhile and then made our excuses because we had work to do and also we needed to swing by the Espys.

Ronda and Kim Espy own Bob-A-Lew Music and they are the publishers of the songs from my musical. They have a nice little house in the Valley too, with a pool. They're not much for hanging out with celebrities, but they had some rock and rollers there. It's a new band called Reacharound which has a new single getting some great radio play on alternative stations. The song is called, "Big Chair."

By the time we got there, an hour had passed since I had taken my blessed Crixivan, so I ate burgers and beans and chips. Then I found their piano and just sat there noodling around. I read once that George Gershwin, when he went to a party, found the piano and never left it. I love that. Ronda joined me and I played her some songs of mine she had never heard (which I barely remembered). Then some of the others drifted into the room and we had a little jam session.

Afterwards, we came home and Jimmy finished his rewrite of the play. All day long he was silently tortured because he had changed one key element of the plot regarding a song and suddenly he got to the last scene and realized he would have to completely rewrite it to conform to the new change. It was driving him crazy. In fact, as we were leaving to go to the parties, he said in the car, "I'm just going to go back to the original script. I've painted myself into a corner." I just smiled and told him he was a genius and that it would come to him.

And it did. Yesterday also, I sent out 70 faxes or more telling people that it was time to make their reservations for the show. There are so few seats, I wanted to make sure that the people who are close to the show get a chance to see these workshops. It's thrilling. Two weeks to go.

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Friday, July 5, 1996
Causing trouble, rehearsing and a glimmer of hope.

Well, I've been causing trouble on the internet. I began by posting a description and argument on the theatre and some of the "Christian" usenet groups. Basically, it's all the stuff we talk about here. About being non-judgmental. About mindless bigotry and homophobia in the Christian world, etc. And I've been getting mail about it.

I'm in the process of collecting all these notes and putting them into some kind of order. Hopefully, I'll have that ready later on today and I'll put it here onsite.

Today we were back at the theatre and we spent time really blocking out some scenes step by step. The opening exchange after my first number is between myself ("Gideon") and Doug Tracht ("Jim"). Jim, a tall muscular teddy bear of a man is the engineer in the sound booth in this recording studio where the play is set. He's just figuring out that Gideon has decided to commit suicide the day after the session and he wants to stop the session and talk about it. He actually comes out of the booth and we have a confrontation.

It's been fascinating to watch from the inside as we do the scenes, because slowly I'm feeling myself drawn into the character and reacting the way he would react. At one point, Gideon describes how he's going to commit suicide. He thinks he's being funny and tells Jim, "You're gonna like this..." After he describes what he's going to do, Jim just stands and says, "You're wrong. I don't like it." Then he turns his back on Gideon.

At this point, I (as Gideon) am feeling desperate. Jim wants to stop and all I want to do is record these songs. "C'mon pal," I say coming up behind him putting my hand on his shoulder, "Be a pal. I just want to make music and I feel like I'm running out of time." He just shrugs, says a terse okay and starts back to the booth. At that point I, Steve, found myself watching the big lug go back to the booth and I really felt sorry for him. I just stood there and watched him as he sadly did what his friend was asking him to do.

Then I quickly moved on to my next line. But it was quite wonderful to feel these things and to feel them so naturally. I know at that point, if I were an audience member, I probably would have seen it as "acting" but it was just that I felt so sorry for the guy. Such an interesting process. As I said before, I have no acting experience so all of this is new to me. It's a hell of a lot of fun, too.

Then Marjory ("Vicki") and Francesca ("Trysha" -- Jimmy thinks she would have a more glamorous spelling than "Tricia") came in and we worked on their entrances and stuff. Jimmy has blessedly given them the lion's share of the work in these scenes. The less acting I have to do, the better, I think.

I also saw Dr. Ellie today. He was going to put me onto a new trial program of a new drug for intestinal parasites, but I balked because I am doing so well, and the side effects are nausea and vomiting. I just said, "No. I can't do it. I hate to vomit and I hate nausea. I can't go through this rehearsal and performance period feeling like I'm going to throw up any second."

He said that several doctors at UCLA were talking about how the TPN treatments such as the one I'm doing have been very good for patients and have helped their bodies get strong enough to throw off these things. Very interesting. We looked over my blood tests and were very excited about the results of the viral load and the escalating t-cells. He said he's got patients all up and down the scale who are having these miraculous results.

Funny. The XI International AIDS Conference is going on right now in Vancouver and they've set it up so it can be followed in real time on the internet. They can't have these international conferences here in the U.S. because our country seems to be the only country that won't allow people with HIV to come into our borders. Isn't that civilized? Not even for an international conference. And you think there's no discrimination in this country? On my AIDS e-mail discussion group, the participants are from all over the world and they have to figure out ways to hide their AIDS drugs and stuff just so they can come and visit family. It's shameful. Really. The Congress and White House should be absolutely ashamed of themselves.

(A weird thing happened to me the other day. Have I already told this? I think I was just cleaning up a bit when suddenly the thought crossed my mind that The Last Session was just another play among the many I'll be writing from now on. The thought was so fleeting and so real that it almost passed before I grasped what had happened.)

I was actually seeing, for the first time in three years, a future. I was feeling hope, honest hope, not the kind you construct and then cross your fingers hope, but real hope. Belief, maybe. Can it be? Is it possible I may actually have a life beyond the here and now? Up to this moment I was actually feeling as if this show would be my last hurrah. My last statement to the world.

I'll say this, if the prognosis changes and I find myself with time, I hope I never forget what has happened to me. These days when I've been living as if there were no tomorrow have been the best days of my life. It's like with this new hope thing. I'm an optimistic kind of guy, so I always have some kind of hope in my conscious mind, but when it sinks down deep into the "belief," it's new and different.

When we say "live as if we don't have tomorrow," we can consciously "believe" it, but it's not as palpable as when you find your life forces hanging by a thread. Do I dare step out and begin to think that I will survive this after all? Is the fact that I am at this moment hooked up to an IV an indication that I am dying, or will it become a distant memory which I will forget until I look here and read these words and remember?

Up to this point, I always saw the IV unit as the last thing one does before heading into the grave. Do I dare hope this much? Already on the AIDS usenet groups there are protesters saying the protease inhibitor is just a new trick by the drug companies and that they felt this kind of hope when AZT was introduced. And look what happened to it. It failed to bring longterm results.

HIV is a sneaky little son of a bitch and these drugs are barely a year old. Their release into the marketplace is unprecedented in its speed. Ah, so much to think about. So easy to cast doubt. So hard to believe. 

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Saturday, July 6, 1996
The internet discussion.

I put an announcement about The Last Session at rec.arts.theatre.musicals and got an immediate response from "Dave." Here's what the first guy said:

Gee, a play/musical/film that deals with AIDS. How original! And you managed to bring Christianity into it - how clever! I hope that the story and music don't play off clichés as much as your synopsis does. The point has been made a trillion times, and I think that the world is just about sick of hearing about it. I know that I am.

Then a response from someone else:

First, a note to "Dave" who's sick of hearing about it. No one's forcing you into the theatre. Your sarcastic response was totally unnecessary and IMHO ("internet language" for In My Humble Opinion) heartless and misguided. While our friends and family continue to die before our eyes the "point" needs to be made continually in as many media as possible. We cannot become complacent.

And to Steven: I congratulate you for your amazing accomplishment!! I live here in L.A. and look forward to seeing what sounds to me like a genuine, moving work of theatre. I will go in with an open mind and allow your work to speak for itself. Best of luck!!

To Dave's credit, he did apologize for his tone (and I apologized for writing a lousy synopsis). He was just tired of Christian-bashing. I told him we were not going to bash Christians. In a later post, part of which is exerpted here, I made the comment that I though Baptist were nuts about boycotting Disney and that it made the rest of the world see them as Nazi-like. I also said their boycott -- because it was partially aimed at keeping gay couple from having insurance, was "unmitigated cruelty. Here was our exchange which was in three different posts condensed here:

Me: If there is a message here, it's one that challenges judgmentalism: sizing people up and judging them before you even know them or have talked to them.

Him: Sort of like calling all Southern Baptists "nuts" or "Nazis" or accusing them of "unmitigated cruelty."

Me: Since I am a Baptist, myself, I *do* know them -- or at least I was a Baptist until the group I belonged to found out I was gay. I also do not enjoy these labels attached to my friends and family. But it's important that Baptists realize they are not being attacked for *who they are*, but for *what they do*.

My earlier post: And what would Jesus have done? Stick his finger in Gideon's face and shout to him that he's gonna burn in hell for all eternity? Or would he have put his arms around him and ministered to his pain?

His response: I'm a Southern Baptist, and I agree with this.

My response: Which is precisely why I feel so strongly about "The Last Session" and its very Christian (and human) message. I think ALL right thinking Baptists and other Christians will agree with this. In a symbolic way, the accusatory finger method is what the conservative Christian community is doing to the gay community at large. They are not approaching them in love. They have declared war on them. What I have to say to the Christian community is what Christ said on the cross, "They know not what they do."

It will take a lot of courage for people like you to stand up and tell your leadership -- and those of the Christian Right -- that they are hurting themselves *and the message* of Christ with their continued assaults on gays and others. I have gay friends who believe that when right thinking individuals such as yourself do not speak out against your leaders when they err, it is the same as the Germans staying silent during the Holocaust. Personally, I don't take it that far, but then I feel caught between two worlds sometimes. All I can do is examine my heart and do the best I can.

He said (earlier): That doesn't mean, however, that there aren't Biblical standards of conduct, social institutions, and general morality that we are expected to live up to and support.

My response: And I think those who believe in the Bible should follow those standards. But does the Bible tell Baptists to try to coerce others into following these standards and interfere in their lives? The "unmitigated cruelty" I spoke of is when believers feel they must "force" the rest of the population to conform. The Baptists object to other people's lifestyles goes against everything the Biblical dictum that if they do not listen, then shake the dust off your shoes and go elsewhere.

I want to be clear here. I am not Baptist bashing. My family is Baptist and I love them very much. They also are concerned about this latest turn of events. There is no scriptural background for it and -- not to stretch a point, but remember the Inquisition? This is the logical place where such coercion goes if people like you and others do not stand up for what's right.

His said (earlier): I don't think the Baptists are asking the homosexuals to change their lives. They are asking Baptists to change their buying habits/choices. There is a BIG difference.

My response: There is? They told Disney that until they stop giving gay people equal rights in the area of partnership -- a right heteros enjoy -- they would boycott them. The difference is one of degree. And where did you get the idea that Baptist have not told homosexuals to change their lives? It is one of the main things that they do and you know it. If you do not know it, then you are not reading the literature.

But it's not Baptists alone. The materials of the Christian Coalition and their ilk frequently ridicule gays with massive mail-outs in bright pink envelopes and exaggerated stories of fringe gay elements as a crass fund raising ploy. I'm only after truth here, my lovely friend. Gay bashing makes these so-called ministries millions of dollars every year. When the coffers get low, out come the pink envelopes. Pure, hateful immoral behavior, IMHO.

He said: I hope your musical is very, very successful.

But the exchange that really set the wires afire was this one. Mike wrote in response to all the above, but, like Buddy in the play, he had to get his little sermon out:

He said: I do not believe in gay-bashing, by word or by deed. I commit sin, and I hope nobody would hate me because of that. I know that a lot of folks who CLAIM to know God bash gays. But this is very wrong in the sight of God, and does not happen among people who are REALLY in communion with our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

My response: Actually, it does, and that's what's sad. They are misled by well-meaning, but blind leaders. People like you who have the credibility of heterosexuality and Christianity need to speak up loudly and clearly to the body of Christ.

He said: But let me tell you what Christians are called by Jesus to do. We are called to bring people to the Lord...and if a person isn't aware of his sin, he isn't aware of his need for a Savior.

My response: I don't think anyone on this planet is unaware of the fundamentalist viewpoint regarding gays and sin. The question is, when does the constant clamor and criticism begin to have diminishing returns. Remember, you said the call is to "bring" people to the Lord, not herd them with verbal whips.

He said: No one is sinless; no one can save themselves. I tell you this; I see a homosexual the same way I see anybody else engaged in a LIFESTYLE of sin; as people precious in the sight of God: they need a savior. And, I've heard the argument that Homosexuality is not a sin. Well, if the Bible is to be believed, it IS a sin. And it says this not only in the Old Testament, but also in the New Testament. St. Paul, for one. Would you like chapter and verse? I am taking a vacation till Monday, but I will gladly supply them then.

My response: Surely you don't think I am unaware of the times when "homosexuality" -- the word -- is used in the Bible. I am constantly bombarded. The question I would pose to you is this: Do you follow and believe absolutely everything in the New Testament as a matter of course, or do you pick and choose things according to the present culture--and then provide an explanation?

For instance in Acts it is directed that Christians should join together and live commune style, sharing all their goods. Do you do this? Of course not, and I know you have a very good explanation for why you do not.

Does your wife cut her hair? Probably. Well, then you must have a good explanation for why this dictum does not apply to present day standards.

So, when you come to "homosexuality," the first thing I would say to you is that in the Bible days, when people thought epilepsy was demon possession, there was no way they could understand the idea that some people are just born gay. It was assumed that everyone was born straight and that suddenly they just start wanting to do perverted things.

Well, in the orgy described in Acts, you DID have a group of straight people who got totally carried away and began doing things they did not have any excuse doing. And I would even agree with you that when a straight person has gay sex, it probably is a sin because he hurts the gay person and he hurts himself.

Throughout my teens and into my early 20s, I prayed daily and nightly the prayer of an innocent and sincere teenager for Jesus to deliver me from my "gay thoughts." I had no gay sex. I did not have any sex at all. But at some point in my 20s, I realized I was destroying my life this way. I was miserable and when I tried to have relationships with women -- usually wonderful Christian girls, doing what I was told to do: living a straight life, I only succeeded in breaking their hearts and mine because I could not really love them no matter how much I prayed and prayed.

So, my friend, if you just grab the word off the page and close your mind to any possible explanation that perhaps this "homosexuality" is not the one we know today, now that we more fully understand the human mind, then you will always simply it as sin and see people like me as just sinful. You have that right.

But I have a choice: live with the honest and true love of my lifetime companion of 11 years, marry a woman (your sister? your daughter?) and live a fake horrible life, or live a lonely unloved existence. If Jesus chose to ignore my honest pleadings for 15 years I can only come to the conclusion that this is how he made me and this is how I am.

Like it or hate it. (And for many years I self-destructed in self-hatred, driven from the church by "well-meaning" Christians -- do you know that I was actually run out of town?) It took me a long time to come back to my First Love. I bear you witness brother that your literal simplistic interpretation of one word on one page taken out of context by a culture that did not understand what we know today, COULD be an invalid interpretation.

I'm not telling you to change your mind. I just want you to understand that this person you have written to is a real person who loves everyone and everything. I have been given gifts from heaven most people would die for. I have been given a ministry too. This ministry, I have come to understand, is to help teach Christians that, even if they don't "agree" with me about gays, they can at least stop conducting this so-called spiritual war against us. It only makes born again people look like ugly dictators who are more concerned about judging others than loving them.

He said: So the question is, "Do we as Christians just let sin go, or do we stand for what's right in the eyes of God?" Why are Christians judged by so many for standing up for their beliefs?

I responded: By standing up for your beliefs, does that mean you interfere in other people's lives? Or does it mean you say how you feel and then if they do not listen you, "shake the dust off your feet" and you leave them alone? The latter is what Christ directed Christians to do. But some Christians feel they must pound their beliefs into people. This is not bearing witness. And where does it say we must "stand up for what's right in the eyes of God?" And again, what does that mean? Or rather, what do you think it means?

He challenged: About the Baptist thing. You talk about spewing hate, but then you call Southern Baptists stupid. Excuse me? Is that a bit weird or what?

I said: I should have used the word Christ used when he found the apostles doing things that hurt their own testimony. He called their actions foolish. I should have said they acted foolishly. Why? Because they made themselves look foolish in the eyes of the world they claim they are trying to witness to.

He further challenged: Do Baptists not have the rights that everyone else have, which includes BOYCOTTING SERVICES AND PRODUCTS? Who are you to decide for Baptists what they should or should not watch. I'll tell you one thing - I'm a Baptist, and I can assure you honestly that no undue pressure was put on us to follow the boycott. It was something that was suggested to us. NOT ENFORCED.

I said: I am also a Baptist -- or at least that is what I am by birth. But the Baptists do not accept me since I am this horrid, wicked sinful person with nothing to contribute. And of COURSE it was not enforced. Baptists do not have a Pope and they COULD not enforce it. Do they have a right to do a boycott? Of course. Everyone has a right to make mistakes.

Think about it: boycott Disney?

He went on: So, we agree on one thing, that Christians should love homosexuals as people. But I believe you can love a person but disapprove of their life style.

I challenged him: And if I disapprove of your lifestyle, should I mention it overtime I see you? Should I shun you and drive you away? Should I insist that you not have the right to marry the person you love? Should I insist that Disney not allow you to give insurance to your wife?

He said: Love doesn't equal accepting everything a person does as right. Love is always upheld by truth, no matter how popular [I think he meant "unpopular"] that truth is.

I shot back: And if well-meaning men who love the Lord disagree on these truths, should they then fight and squabble? I remember when I was a kid in my hometown, the big fight was between the Baptists and the Pentecostals. The Pentecostals would have nothing to do with us because our women cut their hair and we did not speak in tongues as directed in Acts (another direction which I am sure you have a good "explanation" for not following). They shunned us. They never failed to tell us how much in sin we were living. They told us that we did not follow the Bible and they had plenty of verses to prove that they were right and we were wrong.

So, when you tell me that you "believe the Bible -- the literal interpretation" which literal interpretation do you mean? The Pentecostal one which is MORE literal than yours? Or the Baptist one which is less literal but has good explanations?

Okay. End of sermon. I have said a lot. I have probably said too much. I do not expect that you will suddenly change your mind. Please do not expect that I will change mine. I will end with a story. One of my good friends is Al Kasha, a born again Christian who has written several books about his testimony. He has study groups in his home, he is a two time Academy Award winner and if you met him, the two of you would probably agree on the Bible and on just about everything. He has told me that he thinks "homosexuality" is a sin.

But my lover, Jim, and I go over there for Thanksgiving, we hang out with him and his wife, we sing together. They love us and accept us as people. My parents are a Baptist preacher and preacher's wife. I know that they do not believe that being gay is "right." But they love Jim as if he was their own son. They do not judge us. They love us.

When I was sick with AIDS-related PCP, it was the first time it really came out that I was gay. Their only reaction was to offer to drive 2000 miles to care for me and for Jim. This is Christian behavior. Being friends with someone does not mean you "accept" their lifestyle. Once you've made you position clear, it should never come up again because it can only destroy your friendship.

Mike, you couldn't send me a note without a sermon. You had to all but quote me chapter and verse to make sure that I knew you did not approve. Fine. You've made your point. Now I've made mine. If you wish to speak more of it, I'm willing to do so, but know this: I have not arrived at this conclusion on a mere whim. It says in the Bible you cannot know what's in a man's heart. I know I am right with God. That is all I have to know.

You will disagree, no doubt. I give you that freedom. But the only thing I'm ever interested in is making new friends. You seem like a sincere man and you took the time to send me a note out of love. I took it as an act of love. Frankly, it was inappropriate to preach to me on first contact, but I know my Baptists and I love you all for your weaknesses as well as strengths.

So I sent that out on the wire and got many responses from Christians who knew I was telling the Truth in a way they had never heard it before. There were many lovely responses, but the one that got to me was this one from "Scott:"

Dear Steve,

I've just sat here a half hour or more reading your post and weeping, then feeling compelled to reply and staring at the screen trying to decide what to say.

You said several things that touched me deeply, that gave me insights I had never had before, and I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Although I'm sure no insensitivity or lack of understanding on my part have affected you personally and directly, please allow me to apologize to you in proxy of the friends and acquaintances long out of touch with whom I have been less than fully loving and understanding.

When letters like this come in, it makes everything we're doing seem that much more worthwhile.

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Sunday, July 7, 1996
A Little Coffeehouse in L.A.

Another day of good health. My little belly is beginning to show and my legs are beginning to fill out. I can also tell my arms are more substantial. And my eyes are not sunk into my skull anymore. As I continue to gain weight and get filled with all this unbelievable energy, I know that if all this had happened to me last year -- the wasting and intestinal failure -- I would have died. One drug comes along and I live. I think of all the people -- the wonderful, talented and lovely people who've died and I just shudder.

D.R. the Producer, got into town on Friday and we spent the first evening looking at videos of a former client of his who starred in a show Jimmy wrote back East. The show was "Startime" and it was an equity production at a little dinner theatre called "Coachlight." The actor's name was Chris Seppe and he was an altogether lovely boy with a great face, a kind heart and a wonderful voice. What we didn't know about D.R. was that D.R. nursed Chris on his deathbed until he passed. What D.R. didn't know was that it was Jimmy who wrote that particular show. D.R. said it was the only one of Chris' he didn't go see.

This afternoon I met Marjory, who plays Vicki in The Last Session to run over lines and rehearse. She was actually doing it for me. She said we could meet at "The Bourgeois Pig," a coffeehouse in Hollywood. So, about noontime, I got on the Hollywood Freeway, exited Vine, stayed on Franklin and soon got to around the Los Feliz area where there is a whole line-up of little coffeehouses and book stores.

I almost passed the "Pig" because there's no sign when I heard Marjory yell. She was leaning out the window which was right on the sidewalk. She said it was too cool a joint to have a sign, so we went in and -- do you remember a last week when I drove all over the place looking for a coffeehouse? Well, this is exactly what I had in mind. Couches, weird music, artsy types lounging around, etc. I loved it.

We got two seats in the window and began reading lines. She helped me a lot, giving me memorization tips and I pretty much got the whole first act down. While we were working, a few people dropped by who knew her. One was this big, muscular guy with pale blue eyes accompanied by a very pregnant woman wearing a tight black shirt. They had been across the street at the Celebrity Center, which is a big, incredibly beautiful Scientology place with a little castle-looking building, gardens and performance spaces.

We had heard some loud yelling and cheering over there. He said he was a poet and that he was reading his poetry. He also said he was very careful not to give them his phone number or anything because they are relentless in their evangelistic fervor. I asked him to read me a poem, so he crouched down and started reading this very "Imagine if you could change the world if you only had faith..." kind of poem that had his consciousness zipping around the universe and intellectualizing the whole process. When he finished I looked at him as if he had said something profound and he felt very good about himself. Then he took the pregnant woman into the back.

I looked at Marjory and said, "No nouns." She looked at me puzzled. I said, "His poem was a useless intellectual exercise pretending to be profound. I prefer poems with nouns. That's the kind of college thinking that pretends to be onto something big but they never actually accomplish anything because they think they have to have great thoughts and deep wisdom in order to succeed. They worship genius."

I told her one of my proudest moments was when Dean Pitchford, the great lyricist once told a class--actually he almost told them, but I had skipped out to do a gig--that I was a man who knew how to put nouns into a song.

Another guy came along that I knew. Now, let me see if I can describe him. He is a rocker. He has bright red hair and longish sideburns that cut across his lower cheekbones but are thin and red. He wears open collared shirts and I've never seen him in anything but dark zoot suits with the longest chains imaginable. His other accouterment is something I've never seen on a man not in drag.

He wears a string of pearls around his neck.

Anyway, he came in with one of the band members who was my personal, backstage escort at the Salute this year when I was performing. He is a bit more plain in appearance, but with "red" standing there, anyone would look plain. We asked him for a description of his music and it went something like it's contemporary, sorta punk but not really, kinda 50s but sounds like today sorta thing. I totally believe him. (By the way, I like him very much. He came to the first reading of our show and was too cool. His girlfriend works on events promotion at NAS.)

An actor I really liked also came in -- Kyle something. He was on that nighttime soap a few years ago set in the 40s. He was the cute teenage boy. Kinda has a soulful Paul McCartney look in his eyes. He came in with his wife and baby.

All the magazines in the book store next to the Bourgeois Pig had Kiss on their covers. I guess they're doing a reunion tour in make-up. Anyway, we worked for about three hours and then I came home to a very whacked out Jimmy. He's trying to rewrite the second act and he's so confused, he's a big mess. So he went to the store. On the way home, he got me some chicken curry (my favorite) and then he plopped on the couch complaining that all he wanted to do about the play was "to get away from it."

I'm glad it's him writing the book and not me.

Monday, July 8, 1996
The Debate Rages On.

Remember the letter with the debate on it from two days ago? Well, not only did I get a response from him, but I got a letter from a very esteemed gay colleague who was quite incensed by all this. Guess who is stuck in the middle?

My gay friend, Marty, who reads this diary and has seen two of the readings of The Last Session tell me that I'm way too soft on these Christian types. He says they are out and out bigots and they cannot be given any credit for being "decent" people because of this. He asks me how can I possibly consider them to be "loving" when their actions are so evil and hideous? When they treat gay people so badly? When their "religion" is so bigoted? It is his opinion that anyone who even deigns to go to one of their churches (meaning the born agains) is supporting this bigotry and is therefore a part of this evil by their own presence.

Now, folks, I can't say that I support what he says. But I do understand where he's coming from. From the outside looking in, all gay people can see is this "cultural war" which the evangelicals are waging against us on TV and in the media. The Republican Party itself has lined up against us and joined the Christian Right in this war. I know straight people don't see it that way but if this were a gay world and we were passing laws that limited your civil rights, passing laws to prevent you from getting married, kept laws on the books that put you in jail for simply making love to your spouse, you'd begin to see this in a whole new light.

So when someone says they are "born again," his opinion is that they are automatically giving credence to their evil.

What he doesn't realize is that being "born again" is not a political philosophy. It is a personal matter between God and a human being and it not defined by Pat Robertson. It is my opinion that too many of these bigots and hate mongers have taken control of the more public media and have cast a huge black mark on the name and reputation of "born agains." Trouble is, most born agains are buying into the cultural war and are not fighting it. Why? Well, for me it starts with the basic assumptions of sin and what you're supposed to do about "sinners."

So: basic assumptions of sin--here's the response to the letter (somewhat edited) I printed on July 6. I think you'll find it very interesting.

Dear Steve,
Let me begin by apologizing. It was indeed inappropriate to preach so hard at you for our first contact. It's just that I get excited and jump in too quickly sometimes. Forgiven?

Me: Very kind of you to ask. Please don't give it another thought. (After all, you ARE a Baptist and can't help yourself!) *smile*

(In the earlier letter I told him I thought we might be friends but I know that he couldn't get too close or he would "appear" to approve my lifestyle.)

He: It's not that I don't want to "appear" to approve a lifestyle. It's that I don't ever want to approve a lifestyle that I think is morally wrong. And no, I would have nothing against being in your company. I believe we might be good friends, also.

I believe it is possible to be a Christian and be out of fellowship (communion) with God. So, while someone may actually be a Christian, if he is hating people, bashing them either physically, verbally, or emotionally, it is of my opinion that he is definitely not doing the will of God, and is therefore not in communion with him. That doesn't mean he's lost his salvation.

I responded: My point is that "good" Christians do these things without knowing that their actions are bashing. This is why the "devil" in this is so slippery. It's like looking for the enemy but he looks just like "us!"

(In the earlier letter, he said he felt he had to speak up when he saw sin and directed me to Bible verses against "Homosexuality."

My earlier response to this was: Surely you don't think I am unaware of the times when "homosexuality" -- the word -- is used in the Bible. I am constantly bombarded. The question I would pose to you is this: Do you follow and believe absolutely everything in the New Testament as a matter of course, or do you pick and choose things according to the present culture--and then provide an explanation?

He answered: No, I think that all MORAL Judgments made by God are valid today. God does not change.

I had pointed out to him: For instance in Acts it is directed that Christians should join together and live commune style, sharing all their goods. Do you do this? Of course not, and I know you have a very good explanation for why you do not.

And he did: Yes, but that is not a question of sin/ moral judgment...it is a question of the culture of the day, and the best way to live according to that culture. I don't believe it had anything to do with sin.

My response: As I said, you have a very good explanation for not following the literal Word on the page. (Good explanation, by the way.)

I had asked: Does your wife cut her hair...

His reponse: If I had a wife, I would hope she would cut her hair! : ) But that, also, was a cultural issue.

Me: Ah, that cultural thing again. The point I'm making to you is that the "gay" issue is also cultural. If you can bend the rules on one hand while making a judgment with the other, then it becomes an issue of one's personal point of view.

He said: Here's what I would say: ALL sex, not just homosexual sex, that is in the wrong context, is SIN against God. I have been guilty of wrong sex. I asked forgiveness, and God has graciously granted forgiveness. (And he mentioned that he is not married and has been celibate for five years.)

I said: Gay people are caught in a very evil Catch 22 on this point. We are given no choice by your "morality" except to live a completely celibate life. You state that you're currently celibate, but the difference between you and me is that you have options according to your rules. Very convenient.

He said: When I think of you, I don't think of you as "just sinful". I told you how I see you; as a person loved by God. That's how I need to see everyone, although I'll admit to you that when I start thinking about CRUEL people (rapists, murderers, child molesters), I have a hard time loving them, but they are a whole different breed of folks!

I responded: There are many in your group who do not make that distinction. You see, they are judging us and lumping us in with the above crowd. I hate to use this word but it applies. It's bigotry. They simply hate us, though they cloak this "hatred" in soft phrases like "hate the sin, love the sinner." That may sound pretty, but in practice, they hate the "sinner." They would deprive us of everything they enjoy in life.

He said: I learned a lot of things the hard way. From 87-89, I was very depressed. In 89, my bro was killed. In 90, my baby boy died. In 93, my father died. I had to learn to live by God's mercy and grace alone. he was the one who pulled me through my rough times, and I give him praise eternally.

I said: And you could just have easily cursed him, as many do.

In the earlier letter I spoke of my teenage year in which I pleaded for God to make me a hetero and that if he would "ignore my honest pleadings for 15 years I can only come to the conclusion that this is how he made me and this is how I am."

His response: God's concept of time is non-existent. There is no space or time with God.

My answer--after laughing out loud at the grasping at straws aspect of that argument: Too easy. Sorry, but to have kept on with that pointless exercise which was destroying me and confusing me would simply have been foolish. Each of us has to make choices in order to be at peace. I did what was right. I chose the life that God gave me.

I had said: I bear you witness brother that your literal simplistic interpretation of one word on one page taken out of context by a culture that did not understand what we know today, COULD be an invalid interpretation.

He answered: I don't believe so. I think that there are definite absolute standards, and this is one.

I answered that: That's a statement that is your opinion and you are most welcome to keep it. You're wrong, but you have that right, too. I'll tell you why I know you're wrong. Because I have walked in my shoes and you haven't. You are speaking about a subject you can only make guesses about.

I continued: You allow yourself the freedom to judge which Biblical injunctions are "cultural" and which ones are "moral." Funny how the ones you consider "cultural" are the one you do not follow and the one you consider "moral" is one that will never affect your life personally. If you were gay, I suspect you'd understand. But you are not and you never will.

He said: I know you are a real person with real feelings. That's why I care for you, and I really do!

Me: Do you?

He said: I agree with you. Christians are in war, but the bible says it is not against flesh and blood, but against evil. I will tell you again, that I believe that BASHING IS NOT THE WAY.

I stated: There are many ways to bash. Not all of them makes use of physical violence. There is the violence you do to someone's soul by accusing them of immorality when they've done nothing except be born a certain way.

He said: Surely you believe in our responsibility as Christians to be bold and courageous, to "go against the grain" in a world of darkness?

I answered: I speak out against evil. I speak out against those who would hurt others. (Like I am speaking out against this evil.)

I mentioned the Disney thing and said that the Baptists then made themselves "look foolish in the eyes of the world they claim they are trying to witness to."

He answered: Yes, to the world it looks foolish. But to be honest with you, Christ said that Christians can expect to be looked upon as fools, because that's what the world thinks of us.

My response: There's foolish and then there's foolish. Doing foolish things is not the same thing as "looking foolish" simply because you believe in God.

He ended: Compassion should be a Christian's business. And, I've made my position clear. You've made yours. I would like to be your friend, and I won't brow beat you. I will still hold to my beliefs, as will you, but I've got friends from all walks of life, Muslims, Mormons, ATHIESTS!-oh!-and general party-type dudes, so if you will accept my friendship, I would be happy.

And here's where I agree with my friend, Marty. The concept and belief that being gay (and living it) is inherently sinful is an evil proposition. I know I am making a bold statement, but it IS bigotry no matter how many Bible verses you use to justify it. I've said this before but growing up in the South, I heard many "good Christians" use Bible verse to justify their own racial bigotry--the same ones they used to justify slavery in the 19th Century. Now they are using the Bible to justify sexual bigotry.

I would be very careful how I used the Bible in cases like this. Gay bashing comes in all different forms and only some of them are obvious.

End of sermon.

Today we met down at the Zephyr and ran, for the first time, the whole first act of the show "off book." It was thrilling to watch it come together scene by scene. It becomes much easier to "play the scene" when you don't have book in your hands. It was also D.R. the Producer's first time to see it. He loved it. *whew*

Jimmy said he's reached the part of the process where he hates everything he sees, although he did tell us all we were did a good job. The problem with plays in rehearsal, especially one that is essentially a comedy (albeit with a strong message) is that without an audience, the funny lines are funny anymore. It's like hearing a joke for the 50th time.

Also, I didn't forget the time. I took my Crixivan right at 3:00 like I was supposed to (like a good boy). We got home at 6:30 and I had the left over chicken curry from yesterday, hooked up to Louie, did my e-mail and promptly passed out.

Speaking of e-mail, I got a note from a man in a small rural state in a small town who is a 27 year old straight man with AIDS. He told me he has about 0 to 4 t-cells, is trying to run a business, has a good and living wife, but is totally in the closet with his disease (except to the wife and his doctor). He read on the internet (I don't know where I posted it) about the amazing results I've been having with TPN and Crixivan and he begged me to help him with information about medications, etc. He said they get NO good info on AIDS where he is and he's afraid.

He said I was the first "outside" person he has told about his condition. When he said this, I was absolutely stunned. And it goes back to those times when you feel sorry for yourself. There is always someone somewhere who is living under conditions much more horrible than you. All you can do is be thankful for what you have, no matter what it might be, and press on with the good fight.

I'll say a prayer for you, my friend, and the readers of this page will also. And once again, the reality that AIDS is not just about a big block of sinning naked faggots, is it? The face of AIDS reaches across the spectrum and it breaks hearts and ruins lives wherever it goes. How important it is that we care about each other. How very, very important.

I sit here thinking of this man, and of the young man on my e-mail list who watched his lover die slowly and horribly, and realize how utterly lonely we can be even while being surrounded by loved ones.

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Tuesday, July 9, 1996
Tension, sleeplessness and pain.

Today was a tough day. Again, my sleep pattern has been disturbed although this time I just tried to lie in bed and drift back to sleep -- I woke at 2am! I think I got a little, but it wasn't deep sleep. This is very weird for me because I have never had trouble sleeping. It must be the Crixivan doing it. But the Crixivan is what's keeping my viral load down and giving me this new lease on life. Also, I'm having lots of neck and shoulder pains. This could be due to the fact that I have begun doing a little weight lifting with some 20 pound weights, but I haven't done but a little. I hear muscle aches are common with Crix.

So, this morning when I woke up I was bleary-eyed and a bit cross. I had a lot to do including drive into Hollywood to scan the photos for the program we'll hand out at the shows. Once again, D.R. the Producer is on top of things. He drove into Malibu where my friends Dennis and John have a print shop. They are donating all our printing costs, god bless' em.

Also, Tim Goodwin, an events producer (and manager for Rita Coolidge) brought in someone to help with the sound in the theatre. It's a small space and we have David Robyn helping out with a system, but they want to examine everything and make sure we get what we need. Again, the sound is being donated or given at minimal cost if we need things David doesn't have or can't give due to his own music career.

So, I took the little car which has no A/C (letting Jimmy have the big car that does ) cause Jimmy had more driving to do than I did, and went over the hill to NAS where they let me work on the scanning. Then I came back with the disks and met D.R. here. He spoke to Jim about getting another actor for my role, Gideon, so we can see what it looks like when I don't do it. I agree with him but we only found one person capable of it and he felt like it was too much work for so little a pay-off: that is, no money and only two performances. Jimmy was also concerned because so many of the reservations were made by people who wanted specifically to see me in the show. It's a real catch 22 because I'd love to just sit back and see it done. I can't get any perspective from the inside, as it were.

The rehearsal went sorta well, I suppose. But I was in pain and feeling stress so I felt as if I were only half there. And, again, everything looks unfunny and nothing looks like it works. I know this is a part of the process, but this is not the most fun place to be in that process. One simply has to plow through it and keep on plugging.

I also found out that Chip (who plays Buddy) -- his mother reads this diary because he never writes her. He's doing well, mom, the baby's fine and he looks really good and happy. He's also a great actor and brings great things to the play. He has some big auditions on Wednesday, too, so cross your fingers. He sends his love...

However, a couple of really great things happened today amidst my gloom and doom. First of all, Jimmy rewrote the ending for the first act and it is fantastic. It now ends with a little explosion between two characters and I think it's just great.

The other bit of news is that Ronda found a place that would donate a baby grand piano. When she told the saleslady about the show, the saleslady said she had heard about about The Last Session. I was just shocked when Ronda told me this. Do you know how big this city is? To have someone in a store somewhere know all about it was very cool.

The problem is there is no place to store the piano between Friday and the following Thursday when the theatre has another show running. We would have to pay cartage three weeks in a row in order to make that happen and cartage on a baby grand is not inexpensive. Plus we wouldn't have it for rehearsals during the week. It's just not practical even if we could afford it. So we have to settle on a little console or spinet. I just don't want to use an electric. You sacrifice sustain and percussion.

Well, after the rehearsal Jimmy and I came back here and I was so hungry. He made some pasta and I did e-mail for several hours. I had so many messages! I love getting e-mail. A student in England, a housewife in Seattle, Don in El Paso, a professor in Tazmania, a man with HIV in Vancouver where the big event is happening this week...

So, I was cranky and short tempered today, but everyone forgave me. We just have so much to do before we open. All this plus memorizing the script! Lord. Now I see that if I hadn't had this amazing recovery in my health thanks to the Crix and the TPN, I could never have done it.

Funny thing, though. In rehearsal today, even though I was cranky, when we got to the part where I sang Connected, it all seemed to melt away. I love that song so much and when I looked over at Francesca during the the performance of it, she was so into it, teary-eyed with this most beatific smile, I remembered why we were doing all of this.

Because we must.

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Wednesday, July 10, 1996
Improvs, Italian Food, Jay Leno and Miracles.

Although I've never really acted before -- okay, as I said earlier, when I was in high school, I was in the Junior and Senior plays, but in Buna, Texas we didn't have a drama dept. The English teacher simply found a silly comedy and picked out students who fit the parts. I'd hardly call what we did "acting." But I have watched Jimmy direct plays. There's a point in the process where these strangers who have been brought together begin to bond with each other, become a family and really start to have fun.

Today was the day that happened.

The day didn't start out well for me. Once again, I was up at 3:30 and in pain (my neck and shoulders). I sent out an e-mail to my Crixivan discussion group and got back responses from some others who said they were also having some sleeplessness and muscle aches, too, so at least I know I'm not crazy. One person said he had no muscle aches but felt I probably had some tension that was revealing itself.

What tension could I possibly be having? Making my acting debut in the very first full length musical I have written -- in Los Angeles with half the music industry coming? Why should that make me tense? *gunnnnng*

Anyway, we had a late start today so after doing some errands I came back home and actually got a nice little nap so by the time the rehearsal began, I was not feeling so badly. Two of the actors were going to be very late due to some auditions so Jimmy had Doug and me go through our first big scene together several times. It was very helpful. Then he had Marjory and me do some improv.

At this point, Jimmy feels the last thing he needs to do in rewriting the script is to really hone the relationship between Gideon (me) and Vicki (Gideon's ex-wife). Why did she marry a gay man? What makes her drink so much? Why would Gideon invite her there knowing how much trouble she can be?

In the story, it is revealed early on that she hadn't spoken to Gideon in 11 months not wanting to "see him like this" -- that is, sick near death. So Jimmy had us improv the last time they were together, when Gideon was in the hospital with PCP (pneumonia). Never having done improv before, they gave me the rules: never say "no"--that is if she says the sky is yellow in the improv, then the sky is yellow.

So we began. Surprisingly -- to me, anyway -- we had this most moving and effective scene. It was almost a play in itself. (Ronda The Producer/Publisher was in tears by the end of it--but then she is in tears all the time anyway). And it brought back to me much of what happened between the "real" Vicki and myself. You see, I was married to a woman who knew I was gay. Her name was Vicki and we were both young, reckless party animals, lo those many years ago--and yes, she drove me crazy.

But there was never any doubt that we had a great, abiding affection for each other. She's all married with kids now, happy back in Texas. The Vicki in our play is not really at all like her except in the most superficial kind of way. As Marjory and I did our improv, Jimmy just kept writing down notes. At one point, he stopped us and said, "Okay, I think I got what I needed." And that was it.

After the rehearsal (which included an all new opening for Act Two, which was wonderful, by the way), Doug who plays Jim the Sound Engineer, took us all across the street to Leonardo's, an Italian restaurant and bought us all a big meal -- I had cheese ravioli in a pink sauce -- yummm. Just as we were starting to eat, out on the street we saw some lights and some commotion. It was Jay Leno doing a comedy bit for the Tonight Show! Naturally, my inclination was to run out to him, throw a flyer in his face and tell him all about our show, but he was surrounded by producers and crowd and it just wasn't possible.

So I went back inside and -- remember I was telling you about the bonding process? -- Well, at last the whole group of us shared wine, pasta, laughter, and stories. And for the first time, the tension just seemed to melt away and we knew we were all a part of something very special. Francesca ("Trysha") told me that when she was reading the script, she got to the song Connected and before she ever heard a single note -- just by reading the lyrics -- she began to cry and she called her agent and said, "I'm doing this play. I don't care if it don't pay squat. I'm doing this play."

We laughed and ate and enjoyed each other's company until about 9 when it was time for me to get home to take my pills: d4T, 3TC, and Invirase. Also last night, I skipped hooking myself up to Louie for the first time since we began. I just felt like I needed a break. Because the line is hooked up to my arm, I cannot get into the most comfortable position for sleeping and I thought maybe just for tonight, I could try to really sleep. I also took some melatonin.

Also, yesterday I hit another weight goal: 160 pounds. That was my pre-wasting weight. I look in the mirror and the circles under my eyes are gone. My eyes are not sunk back into my head anymore. My face is filling out a little, my legs are looking damn good! (Which is weird since I've always had skinny legs). My arms and shoulders are filling out, too.

As I stood admiring myself in the mirror just before going to bed, I again thought back to six or seven weeks ago -- about how sick I looked, and about how I thought I was never going to see this day, much less next week when the play opened. And I never DREAMED at that time that I'd actually be IN the show. It's really a miracle. But then this show has been about miracles from the very beginning.

Some say God is the one who performs these miracles and I suppose that's true. But like a carpenter uses the finest tools to build a beautiful cabinet or a musician who plays a magnificent piece of music, we are the instruments held in those divine hands and it's up to us to see that these miracles happen.

We are not passive players in this divine drama. And all we can do is honestly and faithfully execute the gifts which have been given to us. And to work our butts off to make sure we have kept to our own clear vision. It's kinda scary to be a week away from opening a show that isn't even in its final draft yet, but last night as Jimmy and I drove home from the Leonardo's, he just smiled and said, "I'm not worried anymore. We're going to be just fine."

I can't wait for opening night.

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Thursday, July 11, 1996
Suddenly, It Comes Together.

This was one of those seminal days where the forces of the universe suddenly just start throwing rose pedals at my feet. We auditioned someone to understudy my role, Gideon, and it looks like he's going to work out just fine. His name is James Mellon. He plays piano well and sings well (and is a much better actor). We're going to have him do at least two of the performances so I can watch the show from the outside at long last.

The next thing that happened was Jimmy gave us the new rewrites which amounted to a lot of cutting. He just felt the second act went on and on. Sure enough, we played it and the whole show just seemed as smooth as silk. It was phenomenol. He was so proud that at the end of the rehearsal, he sat before us and said, "The script is now frozen." So he's happy. We're happy. And when we ran the whole show, it just seemed flawless. (Three days ago we were tearing out hair out. As I said at that time, it's just part of the process.)

I was tired after the rehearsal, both from my interrupted sleep schedule and from the hard work we put in. When we got home, I gobbled up the chicken dinner we had bought on the way home and promptly passed out in the chair.

And slept a glorious sleep, at long last.

If there was any glitch at all, it was that Chip ("Buddy") just got cast in a Star Trek episode and might miss the middle performances, so we quickly got him an understudy, too (Steve Prince), who was thrilled to be asked. He asked if we needed him on Friday. Jimmy said it would be nice. Then he said he had planned on going to Denver that day to attend a funeral. His best friend just died of AIDS.

And the toll mounts. And hearts continue to break.

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Friday, July 12, 1996
Exhausted.

Today I thought I was going to just die. We ran some scenes and did some micro-staging to get things exactly just so. Then we did the first act, which went well. But when we started the second act, I was mentally and physically exhausted -- and so, by the way, was everyone else. Our poor little brain cells were misfiring and we were so "off" we could barely remember our names, much less our lines.

By the time we were done, I couldn't move. I literally sat there wishing someone would just come and pick me up and take me home. Then I began to think about this: This is the most work I've done in at least three years. Before I was struck down with PCP (pneumonia) I could pull all-nighters and work 14 hours a day and never even blink. But after my hospital visit and extended home therapy, it took about 9 months before I could go a whole day and simply stay awake, so wrecked had my body become.

I remember last summer trying to actually see if I could hold a job. I didn't like living on State disability. Probably that Texas thing in me that balks at taking "gummint money," but I had no choice at the time if I was to survive and eat and pay for meds and supplements, etc. Jimmy and I had been so devastated financially that we spent much time actually standing in line at the APLA FoodBank to get food handouts--milk, eggs, cheese, peanut butter, some other staples.

(On Thanksgiving they gave out frozen turkey dinners--someday I will do something for people getting this free food. Book a fancy restaurant and take them all out for dinner, or give them free passes to a fancy restaurant. I remember how much it meant when someone would take me out to eat--even if it was just a McDonald's. Free food is usually the same from week to week. Very difficult to continue eating when you don't get any variety--still I was very thankful they were there when I needed them the most. Who knows? I might need them again...)

Anyway, my first gig was some volunteer work for a movie agent friend of mine simply sitting at the front desk answering phones as a kind of test for myself. But after two weeks, I had to quit. Just couldn't hold up. That's when I approached Bob-A-Lew Music Publishing and asked them if I could volunteer there half days doing non-crucial work.

They not only welcomed me there, but they gave me a fancy title and a desk, told me to work my own hours and made me feel very important. They said having me on staff was a boon for them since I had such a good reputation in the music industry. (This is why I love them so much, among other things. Honestly, I was prepared to be the floor sweeper or the tape copy boy--whatever!).

So, you see, I have always had a strong work ethic and feel like any job well done is respectable and worthy.

The point I'm making is that this work on the show is the hardest, longest most difficult work I've done in over three years. Thank god for Louie and for Crixivan suddenly pumping me with new life and energy. I would never have held up otherwise. And I'm not the only one. The "normal" people in the cast were also about to faint dead away from how hard we've been driving ourselves. And combine that with the interruptions in my sleep and it could be that I've been driving myself too hard.

So, on the way home, I treated myself to my favorite chicken curry and rice. Then I looked at my e-mail, hooked up Louie, took two Tylenol 4's and went right to bed. And I slept very well. Woke up at 11 to take my Crixivan and then slept until 6am. The best sleep I've had in a long, long time. Only got up twice in the night: once to pee -- we have to drink a lot of water with Crix, and once to fix my injection port where it had come undone, Louie beeping madly away spraying TPN all over me, waking both Jimmy and me up.

Also yesterday, I was able to spend time with my understudy, James and I gave him my keyboard so he could learn the music. He's going to do the Gideon role the second week of our three week run. It'll be interesting to see the play from a distance. He has actually written and performed in musical he himself wrote, and said that when a company in Australia did the show, they flew him out to see it. He said it was weird to see another actor doing "him." But that the actort was so different that after awhile, he didn't see himself at all anymore.

I still think it's going to be weird.

Got lots of neat e-mail this week: a housewife near Detroit who downloaded the flier from the show and posted it over her computer while reading about our progress every day (cool!), a researcher in Minneapolis, a student in London who asked me how to write a musical (as if I know...), good ol' Don Kirkpatrick in El Paso who's actually flying here just to see the show (get a life, Don!), another AIDS researcher in New Mexico, my young rock and roller friend in San Francisco who is trying to have a career while battling AIDS at the same time (I'm praying for you, guy--I know you've been sick) and on and on. Thanks for writing me, folks. It means a lot to me to know my words mean something to you.

Truly, while all the good news about the new drugs continues to pour out of Vancouver, it's startling to remember that there are tens of millions in third world countries who will never see these expensive drugs. They will simply suffer and die. Sometimes it's just too much to think about. So I will stick to what I know: My show; which, hopefully will help people understand and learn compassion for the human element of a very weird and horrible disease.

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Saturday, July 13, 1996
Sleep at last. Working with James.

At long last, I got some sleep last night. Even though I woke up at my usual 3am (that liquids thing about Crixivan that makes me pee), I have a little portable urinal by the bed, so I don't have to unplug Louie, make my way in the dark, tripping over things, get blinded by the bathroom light, etc. I can just do it and fall back to sleep. Slept til almost 7am when it was time to take the ol Crix.

Later on this morning, James Mellon, who is my "understudy/replacement? in the show came by so I could show him the piano parts for the show. My role is not an easy one since the actor has to play and sing and act (I can do the first two very well, the second--well, let's just say I'm holding my own). James is a pretty good pianist but he is largely self-taught and though I am, too, I learned a lot of technique and he really hasn't. So, he's struggling with little things, like where do you put your hands, etc.

And, of course, he's not at all helped by the fact that I did the lead sheets in my original keys, many of which have been changed during the rehearsal period for the cast to able to sing them. I think he's got a big mountain to climb. You know, I have never thought about myself as that much of a pianist--especially when I get around "real" piano players like Stan Freeman or even just studio guys who can knock out a song in two takes. But I do have a very specific style which is very economical. My playing is deceptively simple sounding, but like with James today, it's not how much you play, it's getting the right notes in the right places.

But I think he'll be fine. What really shocked me was he wanted to raise the keys on "our" solos. I didn't think anyone could sing higher than I could. Oh, well, he does have a very beautiful voice.

I spent the afternoon in the bedroom memorizing lines and taking naps. After the week I've had, it felt so good to just be lazy and in bed. Wonderful. Then some friends came over -- friends we met on our cruise (Oh, I haven't finished the cruise diary yet, have I? Good grief!).

What was significant about seeing them again was that our cruise was the last thing we did before I went on this TPN therapy. In other words, they only know me as this walking skeleton. When they saw me (I've gained 24 pounds now), they couldn't believe I was the same guy! I loved it. I just loved it.

So, we looked at our videos from the cruise and had a nice time and then I fell asleep. Right on the chair while they were still here. HA! I told Jimmy I'm so glad I have a good excuse to do stuff like that. (I always used to do it before AIDS, too. Something about a lively house makes me sleepy...) Hope it doesn't happen during the show!

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Sunday, July 14, 1996
My "Final Word" on Gays, God & The Bible.

You might recall that I've had this little debate going on with a Fundamentalist Christian regarding the Biblical position on gays. In our earlier exchange he said he believed that some Biblical injunctions were more cultural than "moral" and weren't necessarily intended for today's society. For instance, living commune style or not cutting a woman's hair.

He also said that he was not a gay basher and that he felt very strongly that anyone who equated "gays" and "murderers" was simply not in communion with God. So, we decided to not argue endlessly but instead write conclusions and let it end there. Here is what I wrote him, and the main thrust of my "argument" is that Biblical injunctions against homosexuality is a cultural thing -- something for that day, and not for this day since back then, they had no concept of what it means to be gay (as in "born gay.") And I must admit, I knocked the ball squarely out of the park with my first point.

Your last letter was clear on the subject of "moral rules" versus "cultural rules" as opposed simply obeying every word that appears in the Bible. So the place we really part is the issue of whether gay sex is immoral or whether it is a leftover cultural injunction.

It was interesting that you make the statement that True Christians who were in communion with God would never equate gay people with murderers. Well, the first person to do that was Paul and the second to do that was St. John in the Book of Revelation. I admit I set a trap there because I wanted to make a point. You yourself believe that equating these two things is a ludicrous position to take. And yet these "great men of God" did this. Are you saying they were not in communion with God when they wrote what they did or could it be that there is a better explanation?

I notice that most of the the "immoral" behavior you described leans heavily toward sexual issues. Your own "lust," my "gayness," etc. Isn't it possible that we have learned a bit more about the reality of sex in our culture than they knew about 2000 years ago? Hasn't the preoccupation with sex down through the years by the church caused more anguish and pain than just about anything else? Could it be that these great men were simply a product of their time when it comes to sexual behavior and natural feelings?

Think about it: back then they stoned women for committing adultery. Is it not a cultural difference that we think stoning is a much greater sin than adultery? Doesn't that tell you something about the differences in our cultures? If you were to go back and adopt the sexual mores and rules and punishments meted out in their day, we'd have a bloodbath that would circle the globe. Again I say, the culture of the day colored the way these men looked at sex and sexual behavior.

I'm not saying open the floodgates and allow such destructive behavior as pedophilia be given free rein, but it's simply ridiculous for me to believe that God would create me in a certain way and then shut me off from ever being able to enjoy the basics of life (like love and a personal relationship) by telling me I have to ignore every basic instinct which he has instilled in me.

If this is a cosmic joke, I don't get the punchline.

Now I refer you to a sermon delivered by an esteemed minister who has been conversing with me via my home page.

"Yes, the Bible refers to "men lying with other men" as an "abomination," but first, that is in the context of not knowing about the inherent nature of sexual identity, and second, so are a few other activities so identified as "abomination": Egyptians eating with Hebrews, a scale that gives false weight, eating crustaceans (read that "lobsters"), children talking back to their parents, lying, oppressing the poor and needy, commiting robbery, reneging on a pledge, or offering improper prayer or worship. So, on the grand scale of things, "abomination" isn't quite what we might think at first. Even if they had known then what we know now.

"Dietary restrictions, rules for commerce, and restrictions on which people the Israelites could associate with were given the same proscriptions as homosexual behavior. Given that, then, let's turn to our scripture for the morning. Peter, the super-apostle, is faced with Gentiles, foreigners with whom he was not even supposed to eat, were being included into the fledgling church by Paul. Peter was adamant that it was not possible-but God had something to say on that.

"About noon the next day, as they were on their journey and approaching the city, Peter went up on the roof to pray. He became hungry and wanted something to eat; and while it was being prepared, he fell into a trance. He saw the heaven opened and something like a large sheet coming down, being lowered to the ground by its four corners. In it were all kinds of four-footed creatures and reptiles and birds of the air. Then he heard a voice saying, "Get up, Peter; kill and eat." But Peter said, "By no means, Lord; for I have never eaten anything that is profane or unclean." The voice said to him again, a second time, "What God has made clean, you must not call profane." This happened three times, and the thing was suddenly taken up to heaven.

"That blanket full of animals included clean and unclean-animals that could be eaten and those which were an "abomination." Peter heard the word: 'What God has made clean, you must not call profane.' And we must hear it too. The restrictions and the separation of the world into clean and unclean are the actions of humans, not God. Maybe the early Hebrews understood them differently, but Jesus certainly did not. In case we missed the point, a few verses later the word comes again as Peter says, 'God has shown me that I should not call anyone profane or unclean.'

"Anyone. Anyone.

"The world puts-or more to the point, we put-a difficult yoke onto our gay and lesbian brothers and sisters. They know their selves, their feelings, and their attractions-and we say they're wrong, they're bad, they don't fit. And then we carp about any hangups they may have. If they try to live their lives openly we discriminate legally, economically, and socially. We refuse to recognize their committed long-term relationships-then we are upset about those who feel they have to sneak around seeking the physical intimacy many of us take for granted." (End of section from Bro. Jerry's sermon).

More to the point, for me -- and this is more a practical opinion than one I can justify with scripture -- the interpretation that being gay (or as you would put it gay sex itself, but I cannot separate the two) is inherently sinful, is an interpretation which, in and of itself, is bigotry and is evil. How can I make that statement?

Because of the evil which is visited upon people by its application. To deny someone the right to love freely (and I don't mean promiscuously) according to the natural inclinations given him by God is an immoral judgment which does terrible harm to that person. Teenage suicides by gay teens who cannot find a way to live freely, moral crusades by so-called Christian groups who always seem to need to find someone to rail against so they can prove the existence of the devil or something, gay people burned and bashed and jailed and executed and put into concentration camps.

All of this comes from someplace and that place is the idea that God considers us immoral by nature. Now you might say here that "all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God" and that we are all immoral -- or sinful -- creatures, but it's not the same thing.

Your interpretation might simply be an interpretation to you, but to me its ramifications nullify everything that I am as a human being. It's HUGE, my friend. GIGANTIC. I do not wish to live an immoral life. If I were to accept your interpretation, it would destroy my "marriage" of 11 years, it would have me out there begging Christ to change me (an impossibility no matter what some say), and it would make me an enemy of the people I find most precious: my own gay brothers and sisters who have been hounded, beaten, ridiculed and judged for centuries.

No. At some point, the moral man must stand up for what he believes. And I believe that your interpretation of this particular Biblical injunction -- that your refusal to see it for the cultural leftover that it is -- is in itself immoral. It visits violence upon me and upon my brothers and sisters.

Do I judge you for this? NO SIR. This is not an aspersion upon you personally. I simply believe that you are misguided and uninformed because you "do not know what you do" when you make this judgment. Since I have found you to be a profoundly kind and gentle man, and since I think you are morally upright, consistent and humble in your actions and deeds, I have full faith that you will consider my words and appreciate the fervor and passion I bring to this discussion.

I invite you to also, if you are at all interested in opening your mind to my opinion and would enjoy a second opinion, to write an e-mail to Rev. Jerry whose sermon I quoted from. Talk about your beautiful soul and righteous human being! He teaches me when I stray because of my own spiritual and physical and emotional weaknesses. (He is at revjas@rpa.net. Jerry Alan Smith.)

Okay. I've had my say. I send this to you and hope it will at least give you some insight into a fellow creature's thoughts and beliefs. I hope the Holy Spirit will allow whatever bits of truth are found here to make their way into your heart. And I thank you for allowing me this bit of indulgence. Until we began our exchanges, I wasn't quite sure how to articulate my beliefs and you have helped me give them form and you have helped strengthen my convictions (albeit not in the way you would have preferred, no doubt).

I send much love to you. I still think about your letter in which you detailed for me the pain and struggle you have experienced and it breaks my heart for you. To have lost a son. I cannot fathom what that must have done to you, my friend. I have an aunt who lost a grown daughter and she is still not over it. We have wept together and she has shared the pain with me as best one can with mere words. I'm happy you found strength to endure. I wish you all the best in your life and in your world.

His response was weak and not worth repeating because he did not respond to any point that I made. He simply said he thought some things were moral and some things cultural and that homosexuality was immoral. Then he told me the whole story of his conversion yadda yadda yadda. Too bad. But I'm glad we had a chance to make the exchange. Certainly made for an interesting discussion...

(Felt good today. Did a quick line reading with the cast down at the Bourgeious Pig and ate -- yep -- chicken curry from a new place. Didn't like it as much as my regular place. Came home and rested most of the day. Big week coming up. We tech the show on Tuesday, dress rehearsal on Wednesday, open on Thursday.... I'm so excited, I can barely hold it all in.)

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Monday, July 15, 1996
More weird dreams. Excitement Builds.

Here's the dream: It was my first big musical to be produced. Huge venue. Huge stage. Big cast. Opening night. And I "knew" it was the worst thing ever written. I couldn't bear to watch, so I hung out in the lobby which looked like a bus station with two rickety tables. At the table I was sitting was an old lady who was a bit crazy. I got her a drink at the little soft drink counter and as I was sitting there in horror knowing I was going to be humiliated for thrusting this piece of shit musical on everyone, all I could think about was how much the people on my home page would enjoy my description of the lobby which looked like an old bus station.

You see what this means, don't you? You've now permeated my dreams and have become a part of my subconscious. And it also means that no matter how lousy a day I've had, I can use it to entertain you folks. Aren't you proud?

I had dreams all night long and slept very restlessly but didn't want to get up. I know that this whole show is "working on my last nerve" as Francesca would put it. But I'm still excited and ready to get out there and do it. Reservations were flying in yesterday and the first two nights are almost sold out, so that's kinda cool.

Today we mostly worked on memorizing the dialog from the show. I still have some rough spots, but got it together for the most part. We also worked on the music. Funny thing: when we started, Preacher and the Nurse was out worst sounding song. Now it's our best. Very thrilling arrangement. Also today, James, my replacement who will go on next week, came by and watched the rehearsal. I had him sing "my" songs and get used to all the harmonies. He really has a very pretty voice. But these piano arrangements are going to be a bitch.

I mostly have this little "buzz" going on underneath as the excitement builds. Tomorrow, Tuesday, we have a tech rehearsal where they are going to try to marry the sound and lights and get all the cues right. Then Wednesday we have our full dress rehearsal and Thursday night we open. Hard to believe it's on us already. The cast is really hanging together and loving each other. That's a very nice thing. And, geez, I need a haircut.

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Tuesday, July 16, 1996
Tech Rehearsal. Ticket "Sales."

Our phone has been ringing off the hook with people wanting to order tickets, but our first two performances are SOLD OUT and we can't take a single other person. We're also getting orders for the other nights. And this is before anyone has even seen the show. We've taken no ads out and we have done no publicity.

I finally got a haircut. Everyone who came into the rehearsal today, stopped, yelled, pointed at me and screamed, "HAIRCUT!" Francesca liked it long. The others were ambivalent. But it was too long and it felt like a big mess so I got it cut. Funny thing about hair. It grows back.

It was fun to see the whole set put together today. All the mics and tables and knick knacks. Ronda brought her piano down. I hadn't realized what a big mess getting piano was going to turn into. The only problem was that after we got rehearsing, there are two crucial bass notes on her piano that don't work. So now I've got to decide to either live with them or figure something else out. Always something...

David Robyn dutifully showed up with his PA system thus saving us $450 a show (thank you, David). He also brought a demo of the first song he wrote under my "creative guidance." On the tape he had me listed as co-writer. I objected and said to him that it was my job to give him input on the song, but he insisted. It's a tough place to be. If he had actually paid me for my time, or if the song were signed to Bob-A-Lew and I was getting paid by them for my time, I wouldn't allow it at all, but no money has changed hands and I could see that it was from his heart. So, I relented. It's just such a fine line, this creative thing and there's a controversy here in L.A. about a songwriting teacher who thinks her input should get writer credit. Something I vehemently object if the person is getting paid for that input.

What can I say? I'm crazy about this guy.

Got another tape from a guy in San Francisco named Billy Valentine. Billy has AIDS and has a rock band called Holy Joe. He and I have been corresponding and he finally sent me his tape. I was really impressed. Hard and rough edged. Alternative. Reflects his life as a teenage prostitute, drug user, etc. But, like me, AIDS slapped him in the face and has changed him. He's so different from me or David. Covered with tatoos, totally rough personna. Interesting.

Our tech rehearsal went surprisingly smooth. A few places where we "went up" on the lines, but the flow of the play is wonderful. We had a couple of new faces out there listening and they just loved it. I think we really do have a wonderful thing here. It's not like anything else. In structure, it's a bit like "Getting My Act Together and Taking It On The Road" but it's an entirely different piece and now I'm anxious to see it in front of a live audience. Oh, and have I mentioned how much I loved being on stage performing this? I totally and completely love it.

Dress rehearsal on Wednesday. Opening on Thursday night.

I'm shaking with anticipation and thrill-a-minute excitement.

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Wednesday, July 17, 1996
The Dress Rehearsal

Today when I woke up, I was a little tired. My voice was a bit tired and I hadn't really slept all that well. Lots of strange dreams, etc. But the worst thing that happened was that I got a leg cramp in my calf and it was excruciati