And The Band Plays On

I learned last evening that Joe, a friend of nearly three decades, finally succumbed to AIDS after waging a valiant battle against the disease for over two decades.

I hadn't been aware that his health was in decline, having not spoken to him since July, but from what I gather, even those closest to him were kept unaware of the seriousness of his deteriorating condition, not at all surprising given Joe's penchant for privacy and stoicism in the face of tragedy.

His sudden death has profoundly impacted me - much more so than I'd have imagined. We haven't been particularly close these past few years, largely because of a geographic separation. After his loss of his life-partner a dozen years ago, he returned to his home state, finding his adopted city of New York oppressive, laden with cursed memories of joy lost.

I don't believe he found returning home to be all that comforting, yet it was recognizable, largely unchanged from his boyhood. He knew what to expect, and found some solace in the predictability of the community - a normalcy, a consistency with which he had learned to cope.

And make no mistake - coping in New York is a challenge in the best of circumstances. For many gay men who flocked to the city during the 1970s and 1980s AIDS made the city unbearable. There really is no way to adjust to the loss of so many friends and associates.

I can recall during the late 1980s and early 1990s attending at least one memorial service per week, a litany of depressing endings so persistent and encompassing that it became dehumanizing. Gratefully, the pace of death over the past decade has slowed considerably due to improved treatment. It's been over a year since the last time I learned of the death of a friend due to AIDS, a respite that has lulled me into a sense of complacency about the seriousness of the epidemic.

Yet, in recent months I've read extensively of a resurgence of infections in the gay community, which some attribute to a sense that the disease is no longer a death sentence, but rather, a treatable illness not unlike diabetes. Joe's passing is a potent reminder of the foolishness of such assumptions, and how important it is that we continue to educate young people about the dangers of the disease and its ultimately lethal consequences.

It's at moments such as these that I wish I possessed the eloquence to offer some profound insight, or at least a modicum of inspiration. Sadly, the talent eludes me, but I welcome contributions from others and offer a reminder: