My life has been a poor attempt to imitate the man; I'm just a living legacy to the leader of the band...

My father is dying. I'm not sure when. It could be next week, it could be next month, or it could be tomorrow. He has an inoperable, incurable cancer that can only be slowed but not eliminated.  On my last visit to see him, he was hospitalized with a septic infection and lay in intensive care for eight days. Now he's receiving hospice care at home and palliative chemotherapy. My Dad's pretty tough, but I think he's reached the end of his journey. It's not just the cancer. He lost a kidney (also to cancer) some years back, just six months after a quadruple bypass. He's got an aortic aneurysm that's slowly expanding, and less than half of his liver is functional. He's been living on borrowed time. I'm okay with that. And so is he.

My Dad's journey hasn't been easy. He's struggled all his life to keep his family fed and clothed and housed. He's owned numerous businesses, most of them failed, and none of which left him with a pension or any real security. He's had a hell of a run, but I call tell that he's tired of the chase. I'd prefer to see him retire from the field with dignity, in death finally granted the peace he never found in life. I've already seen someone I love take the harder road, and I don't want that for my Dad. I wouldn't want it for me.

Just about two years ago, my uncle Kevin died of cancer. Don't know which kind – I was always unclear on that. But it started in his groin and spread like wildfire. My uncle had lost an eye in Viet Nam while rescuing a buddy under fire, came back home, and put his life together. He never complained about it. He was a fighter and he was determined to fight his cancer.

It was a bruising ugly battle; a year of aggressive chemotherapy and radiation, as result of which he lost half his body weight and became a shadow of his former self. The cancer seemed to be in retreat, but then came back with a vengeance, utterly consuming the last year of his life. He became a prisoner of his treatment. He suffered but he persevered and in the end it didn't matter. He died in a hospice bed, barely aware of his surroundings. To my mind, the cure was worse than the disease.

My Aunt, who had been totally dependent upon him – financially, emotionally, psychologically, and socially – was shattered and has not been able to move on. She believes that his death, especially following such a "valiant" struggle, was a cheat. And, and of course, she has the usual tortured doubts: "Why has God allowed this?" "Why was he taken?" "He was a good man." "What am I going to do now?"

No one in my family thought to ask the question on my mind: Why did he put himself through such grueling torture? Why did we allow it? My mom insists that he did it for himself, but I think that he did it for my Aunt, because he knew that she would be helpless without him. In that sense, he died in a noble, if ultimately fruitless, cause. Fortunately, my Mom is made of stronger stuff and I know she will survive, recover and move on after my Dad has passed away.

Too often in our culture, we equate quantity with quality, even in the most crucial aspect of our existence. We go to great lengths, as my Uncle did, to buy a few more days, months or years. As a culture we have not made our peace with death. We refuse to accept that life is finite. We expect our doctors to work miracles and blame them when a cure is not forthcoming, as if our bodies were just like cranky cars that just need a little tune-up to hum along again. Maybe if we embraced our mortality, rather than denied it, we would take more care with the time we've got, make better choices, focus on what's really important and not as much on celebrity scandals, professional sports, and what our neighbors are doing behind our backs.

In earlier, more uncertain times, death was seen as inevitable, a part of the eternal cycle. Cultures developed rituals and customs in order to weave death into the tapestry of life. Sometimes death could even be welcomed. Now, death is the enemy, and some of us will do almost anything to keep it at bay. We would rob our loved ones of dignity, of serenity, and put them through the most horrifying treatments that medical science has to offer, just because we're afraid to let go, because we don't know what's waiting for them, and us, afterward. Not content to prolong our own deaths, we also gladly interfere in the decisions of others to choose differently. Just ask Michael Schiavo.

I would choose differently. I do not believe that suffering is ennobling. Struggle builds character, but suffering causes only pain. When the end comes, I wish to go quietly, peacefully, painlessly, even if I have to take steps to ensure that outcome. Fortunately, I live in Oregon which has a "Death with Dignity" law. I don't want "extreme" measures taken, I don't want to live on a respirator or dialysis or tube feeding. I don't want my body to be "maintained" if my mind is gone.

If I can no longer recognize my friends, my family, myself, then in all the ways that matter, I'm already gone. My self, all of me that matters, lay in these memories, recognitions, associations, and when they are gone, so am I. The religious folks got one thing right – the body is just a shell, and there's no sense trying to preserve it once the essence of a person has disappeared.

Is it possible that a person in a coma - with no significant mental activity - could miraculously recover? Possible, yes, but not likely. Are we to base our social, cultural and legal policy about dying on a wish, a hope, a chance that those we love might possibly recover, to the extent that we make the other options unthinkable? Is life at all cost the morally correct choice? I have seen the outcome of that choice and I say that it is not.

I've also given some thought to after-death issues. I never really understood the concept of cemeteries. They're not really for the comfort of the dead, who no longer care, but rather for the comfort of the living. Putting someone in a box and throwing up a slab isn't going to bring them back. If your loved ones remain alive in your memory, isn't that what matters? I see no point in setting aside what would otherwise be pleasant parkland for what is an essentially useless purpose. More than that, it is a trap that ties us to a rejection of reality. For if we can visit our loved ones in death, then it is almost as if they have not died. It is common to see families carefully tending burial plots for years, making annual pilgrimages, talking to tombstones, etc. To what end? I don't need to see a tombstone to remember my Uncle, what he meant to me, how he enriched my life. I will have those memories for as long as I have breath. And when I no longer have those memories, I won't be me any more and it won't matter.

Have you seen very old graveyards, with tombstones so ancient that the lettering has completely eroded? Even if the letters had stood firm, to who would it matter 400, 500, 1000 years later that such and such a person was buried in this place? It's not the fact of our death that matters, it's what we do while we're alive that counts. We should celebrate people for their achievements. Obsessing over grave sites is just a ghoulish sort of tourism.

I'm not unsympathetic to loss. I understand the importance of rituals. I know that the death of a loved one is traumatic and that we require symbolic gestures to help us make a transition to acceptance.  But it would not be so hard if we first accepted, as we once did, that loss is inevitable. Then the arrival of death would only confirm something we already knew. We only make it harder on ourselves when we prolong the pain of loss, particularly while those we love are still alive, by subjecting them to invasive and undignified intervention.

Current Location: Home
Current Mood: contemplative
Current Music: Rob Thomas

Imagine there's no countries, It isn't hard to do. Nothing to kill or die for And no religion too. Imagine all the people Living life in peace…

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When humanity first began to gather and communicate and sought to understand the world around them, they found that there were questions they could not answer: Where does lightning come from? Why do the seasons change? What makes the sun rise and set? What happens when we die? The only way to answer unknowable questions is to place them within the framework of one's experience, which is our only certainty. Therefore, to early humanity, some being or spirit must have been responsible for these phenomena in the same way that the lion kills the gazelle or a person makes a spear. Every action has a cause, and every cause comes from agency. Thus was religion born – out of ignorance. And in ignorance it remains.

Religion is still concerned with providing answers to the unknowable. But as our knowledge of the world and its workings increases, the unknowable as a field of speculation is getting smaller and smaller. Those who live their lives according to a religious faith naturally feel under assault, because the province of their expertise is shrinking all the time.

Before going on, let me first distinguish between Religion and Spirituality. Religion is an organized, coherent belief system that attempts to explain the unknown as the result of external causes, a belief system that is shared by and defines a particular group of people. Spirituality is a personal, reflective, inward-turning and individual approach to these same unknowns. Different people may share spiritual beliefs and even organize themselves for mutual support, but spiritual practice rejects the regimentation that is inherent in Religion. Religion is as much about group identity as it is about finding answers to the unknowable. Spirituality is about seeking self-knowledge and an understanding of one's place in the world.

The problems began when Religion stopped being about speculation and people began to identify themselves as a group based on a common belief, setting up yet another division between "us" (the "good" people) and "them" (the "bad" people). And then some people realized that they could control others through the fear of the unknown that Religion tends to engender. I suppose we can blame the first priest or shaman who threatened God's wrath upon someone, and found that it actually worked! Religion moved away from seeking answers and became more about social control.

In the West, Religion set upon the wrong path the day that the Emperor Constantine allegedly had a battlefield conversion just prior to his victory against Maxentius at the Battle of Milvian Bridge in 312 c.e. (Current Era) and then bestowed imperial favor upon Christianity. While Constantine probably remained a pagan for the rest of his life, the deed was done. Constantine coupled the once persecuted Christian Church with the imperial power of the Empire, and the rest of the world has suffered for it ever since. Once Christians got this sanction, what did they do with it? Did they continue to follow the peaceful teachings of Jesus? No, they behaved like every other repressed group that gets a little more power than it should. First, they suppressed "pagan" cultures and beliefs, often by force of arms or flames, then destroyed or hoarded the accumulated knowledge of the ancient world for over 500 years, branded the Jews as "Christ-Killers" and hounded them without mercy, unleashed the Inquisition to torture confessions of heresy out of hundreds, suppressed scientific discoveries that challenged their dogma, wiped out the Cathars in Southern France, slaughtered and plundered their way across Asia Minor throughout the Crusades, and in more recent times, turned a blind eye to the Holocaust, looking away while 6,000,000 Jews and other non-conforming types were simply eliminated by the nominally Christian Nazis. 

You'd think that with such a record of unmitigated success, they'd be content. But Christians are not slackers! Although they can't support slavery, the burning of witches (although historically speaking, most were hanged), or the stoning of Jews without earning most of the world's opprobrium, they can still target the homosexuals, and that gives them at least 6% of the population to demonize and destroy, which are not bad numbers these days.

And that's just the Christian legacy, without taking into account the numerous atrocities committed in the name of other Religions. Considering the number of people throughout history who have been killed, tortured, imprisoned, enslaved, or deprived of home or employment on the basis of Religious beliefs, in the balance Religion has done humanity more harm than good.

And for what purpose? So that one group of people can assert their superiority over other groups of people, and justify whatever injustice is required to maintain that superiority. Evangelism in any form begins with the proposition that the believers possess the Absolute Truth, that all those who believe differently are Wrong, and that their belief must be Corrected for their own good.  So that "they" will be just like "us."

But there is no rational basis for these attitudes. After all, no one emerges from the womb believing in anything. Religion must be taught. Nothing could be more arbitrary. Upon what basis should any Religion claim superiority? How is it any different to say that Jesus Christ was the son of God who died for Man's salvation than to say that Zeus hurls the lighting? We have no proof of either. We may have an understanding of the physical phenomena that cause lightning, and smugly discount the head of the Greek pantheon, but why can't Zeus be expressing his will through this mechanism? Some folks get hit by lightning and survive – Isn't that Zeus's will, allowing them to live?

Jesus, Lao Tsu, Muhammad, Buddha, and all the other revered prophets – they all have some nice things to say about how we ought to behave toward one another. But as those teachings become codified into Religion, they also incorporate the social practices of the cultures that spawned them, bestowing an unwarranted universal Authority upon those practices. They also tend to accumulate charming, colorful stories that demonstrate the prophet's powers, and therefore his Rightness: stories of miraculous transformations, deaths and resurrections, enlightenments and ascensions, just like the stories told about every other pantheon of deities since humanity invented gods. And that's all they are – stories, charming (or cautionary) tales that illustrate some particular principle. But they are not the god's honest truth. 

If Religion is arbitrary and irrational, if it leads to so much misery and suffering and contention, why then do people continue to support it?

Many supporters of Religion believe that a Higher Power is necessary for moral guidance, and that without such supernatural sanction, humanity would collapse into chaos or revert to a primitive state. I don't think so.  I agree that we need a guide to right behavior, but it isn't necessary to rely upon fear of punishment or hope of reward in some imagined afterlife as an impetus to goodness. There's a very simple and practical answer. We shouldn't kill or steal or rape because if we all did so, then no one would be secure; no one would be able to achieve anything. The whole purpose of organizing into society is that by organizing, we are able to fulfill needs that we cannot, acting as individuals, provide for ourselves. Even the strong eventually get sick. Even the smart eventually make a mistake. We need each other more than we need absolute freedom of action.  Rousseau said it best: we surrender some portion of our "natural" freedom in exchange for security within the group. Rousseau called this trade-off the "Social Compact" and it is not necessary to look any further to justify right behavior.

Many people turn to Religion for help in coping with life's misfortune. They reason that there must be some purpose to human suffering, to the pain of loss, to the senseless violence, horrible atrocities, and personal humiliations that we experience every day. The idea that these terrible truths have a purpose brings them comfort and helps them to endure. It's certainly much easier than dealing with the fact that we make our own misery on this Earth just as we make our own paradise. It's easier than accepting responsibility. "It's God's will," "We can't understand the mind of God," "God works in mysterious ways" – They all mean the same thing: "We don't know what the fuck is going on, but we sure wish there was someone to blame."  The one truth that Religion seeks to avoid is that we only have ourselves to blame.

Having spent all this time indicting Religion as foolish, superstitious nonsense, I also uphold the right of people to believe any damned foolish thing they want. In fact, I would not have any problem with supporter of Religion if they also accepted the principle, enshrined in our Constitution, that no particular creed should be enforced by one group upon others against their will ("Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion…"). But many true believers are so convinced of their righteousness that they will not relent until the rest of us believe as they do. If we will not do so willingly, they would compel us, or punish us, or take away our freedom. They would deprive us of our right to freedom of belief in the name of their own. 

Let's take a current example: gay rights. Many people are opposed to homosexual equality on the basis of their Religion. They say that the principle of Freedom of Religion allows them not only to reject homosexuals socially but also to deprive them of equal rights, such as those granted under civil marriage laws, laws based upon a cultural prejudice about the "nature" of human relations. This is an abuse of Freedom, not its exercise. Your right to swing your fist ends where it meets my face. You may not use your Freedom of Religious Belief to deny others' rights to Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness. The stability of our civil society demands that we agree to disagree. People of good conscience can disagree on important issues, but when decisions must be made, if we are to err, it needs to be on the side of greater tolerance, because we don't have the right to harm others under the authority of beliefs that they do not share.

In other words, Do Unto Others as They Would Have You Do.  Anything else would be uncivilized.

Current Mood: accomplished

Two Film Reviews - Grande Ecole and Just A Question of Love

While I'm working on my next major entry, tentatively titled "Losing My Religion," I thought I'd fill in the gap with some movie reviews.

Back in Philadelphia, I always enjoyed attending the Gay and Lesbian Film Festival, which has turned into one of the best in the nation. Thankfully, through the auspices of TLA Releasing and a few other indie distributors, many of these movies have become available on DVD, and I can catch those that I missed over the past few years.

I've just seen two excellent films, both French (with English subtitles), with very different styles. Grande Ecole is a character study about the relationship between three roommates at an exclusive business school and particularly about the sexual awakening of the main character. A Question of Love (Juste Une Question d'Amour) is a roman a clef tale of a young gay man finding self-acceptance and love.

In Grande Ecole, the protagonist Paul is the son of an upper middle-class construction manager who has been sent to Business School to become a captain of industry. Unfortunately, Paul has the soul of a poet, not a CEO. Paul seems tentative and unsure of himself in his new environment. His girlfriend, Agnes, is active in the human rights movement. She is confident, even aggressive in all of her pursuits, and especially in her relationship with Paul. Paul's first roommate is Bernard, an ambitious young man from the lower middle class who studied hard to qualify for admission, but who is intellectually unprepared to compete. Lastly, there's Louis-Arnault, a dashing scion of the upper class, his father an important diplomat, who is being groomed to take his place in society. Louis spends his time avoiding classes, playing on the water polo team and sexing his girlfriend, Emelie, an average but  earnest girl from the same social circle.

The film portrays the delicate dance between Paul and Louis and Agnes and Emelie, each with different goals that determine how they treat the others. Over the course of the term, Paul falls in love with Louis, who has done all he can do to encourage this without actually having sex, and we are left to wonder about Louis's motivations. Agnes picks up on Paul's confusion and decides to press the initiative in a cruel manner. Louis wants to "conquer" Agnes, knowing that Emelie will still be waiting for him. And after befriending Emelie, Agnes betrays her. Emelie, meanwhile, is determined to reinforce her position as Louis's rightful mate. Along the way, Paul meets Mecir, a young, handsome Algerian who knows who he is and what he wants (Paul) and is not afraid to go after it.

More than just a character study, Grande Ecole subtly addresses issues of racism and classism in French society. It also exposes the cruelty and gamesmanship that can enter dishonest relationships. It's hard to call it a "gay" film even though Paul and Mecir have sex (be prepared for full frontal). The characters are too complex to be reduced to "gay" or "straight." Ultimately, the film is a refutation of social determinism and an affirmation of the ability of the individual to choose his own path and to find happiness in the choosing. For its subtlety, ambiguity, and craftsmanship, Grande Ecole is thoughtful viewing.

A Question of Love will be more pleasing to the average American temperment. The prototypical "good son", Laurent is conflicted by his need to maintain the love and acceptance of his conservative parents and his gay identity, which he has concealed. He seeks counsel from the surviving partner of his gay cousin, with whom he had been close. Laurent's wariness with his own family is well-founded. His Uncle threw his cousin out when he told them he was gay, and did not come to see him when he was dying.

Laurent is also in danger of failing out of agricultural college, and is offered an internship in a last-ditch attempt to rescue his GPA. His new mentor is Cedric, who works as a horticultural researcher for the government while tending his family's nursery. Cedric is certain, uncompromising in his identiy and in his relationships with others, and is quickly smitten with the younger Laurent. Cedric cannot abide Laurent's decision to "live a lie" with regard to his parents, however, and the conflict threatens their happiness together.
Added into the mix, Cedric's mother, with whom he still lives at the nursery, is desperate to see her son find happiness and love, and is prepared to go to great lengths to nurture his relationship with Laurent, even to the point of taking a dangerously precipitative action that brings the film to its climax.

A Question of Love is a story about self-acceptance and the human need for love. It's a straightforward narrative, with honest and accessible performances by all of the main characters, although I must single out Eva Darlan as Cedric's mom Emma for a nuanced and heart-breaking portrayal. For its engaging cast and affirming message, I highly recommend Juste une Question d'Amour.

Current Mood: accomplished

...no one can deny this love I have inside

In my life, I have experienced platonic love, romantic love, and unrequited love (the hardest kind). I have seen my love transform from one type to another over time. And the one constant among all of these many loves is that they have never left me. Never. Not once. Not ever.

I've been hurt. I've extended my love – or my friendship that is akin to love – to some who have rejected it, denied it (not exactly the same thing), or worst of all, betrayed it. I've had relationships with some who never gave love a chance. And I've lost someone to illness that I once loved. Regardless of how these loves began, and the conditions under which they flourished or withered, I've never lost those original feelings. Time, Distance, Hurt, Neglect, Rejection, Denial, Betrayal, Loss – in the end, none of these make a difference. Once given, Love really is Forever.

In my last entry, I spoke of Friendship in ways that made it sound a lot like Love, which I believe it is, just a particular kind of love. The ancient Greeks certainly thought so. I have loved all of my friends, but not always in the same ways. Because I'm gay, my male friendships often contain shades of feeling that straight guys don't experience (at least, not overtly). When these friendships run deeply, I sometimes feel an impetus to express them physically in an intimate yet playful way. I'm not sure what this means, but I know that it's true for me. Correspondingly, my romantic loves have usually remained my friends even after the romance ends. So, like all emotions, Love is both simple and complex.

Sometimes our loves go through some of the negative phases that I've mentioned: denial, neglect and, most of all, betrayal, and we say that our feelings of love have changed, been transformed by the negative into hatred. Many divorces seem to end this way. But I would argue that those original feelings of love never go away. The reasons why we loved someone don't change when the person that we love changes. We will always love them for who they were, even though we may dislike them for who they've become. If we were honest with ourselves at these moments, we would acknowledge our feelings of love rather than deny them, and understand that the pain we feel is a result of the betrayal, and is in direct proportion to the love we feel. Because emotions are complex, we sometimes confuse hatred with an urge to punish others for hurts inflicted upon us. This is a really a desire for retribution, not hatred.

Hate is not the opposite of love, nor is it love transformed. It is its own emotion and can co-exist with love, just as jealousy can co-exist with devotion. Some emotions feed into others, some contradict, and how we feel at any given moment is a composite of several different emotions. We speak of contradictory emotional states "warring" within us, and it is frequently a mark of our emotional maturity and self-acceptance whether we allow the positive or the negative to win out.

As I said earlier, I've experienced many of the negative phases of love. I've been hurt. But I was hurt by what those people did to me, not because of who they were. In fact, my appreciation or understanding of who they were, partially based upon these negative experiences, eventually enabled me to forgive them for what they did and to place those events squarely in the past, where they belong. This is not to say that I've forgotten the feelings of hurt. I can't forget the feelings of hurt any more than I can forget the feelings of love. Fortunately, in these cases, both have been dulled by time.

I'd like to say something more about forgiveness. Without supporting the dogma of any particular Organized Religion, I affirm the virtue and the value of forgiveness, of yourself as well as of others. When we truly love someone, we must be willing to forgive them if we expect that love to endure. Why? Because we are all human and fallible; we make mistakes; we commit errors in judgment; we sometimes stray from what we know to be right for reasons that are not entirely clear to us or for reasons that turn out to be wrong. Most of us, those of us with positive souls or karma or chi or whatever you want to call it, regret these instances when they occur or perhaps at some later time when we realize what we've done. Regret that has no opportunity for expression, however, becomes a poison to our happiness. And it is very hard to express regret when we feel we will not be forgiven. Not impossible, but certainly much harder; and possibly even nobler for the attempt.

When we love another – be it a friend, a lover, a companion, or a mate – we need to express our feelings of regret when we have them, if only to let go of them. We have no control over whether our loved ones will forgive us. From the other perspective, I encourage you to forgive your loves' transgressions, real or perceived. That's right – you should forgive them for things you think they may have done wrong but of which you have no proof, and it's best not to seek that proof. What good would it serve? Even if you don't express this forgiveness verbally, your love and acceptance will still be palpable. I offer this perspective as someone who has been in a relationship for over 20 years. During that span of time, you learn a lot about the value of expressing your regret, forgiveness, and acceptance.

Consider that your forgiveness and acceptance will lead to a stronger bond and greater truthfulness in the future. Love must be founded upon Truth if it is to flourish. And once it flourishes, Love really is Forever.

I want to acknowledge the people I have loved, in whatever capacity or quality, and however it may have proceeded or ended. I hope you know who you are. I'm going to do my best to let you know. Each of you has implanted a small part of yourself within me that will never die. Though it may have faded, it will never be extinguished.

Just remember, in the Winter, far beneath the bitter snows, lies the seed that, with the sun's love, in the Spring becomes…the rose.

Current Mood: accomplished

…When you're in need of love they give you care and attention

We all seem so busy nowadays – busy making phone calls, texting, instant messaging, faxing, emailing, and virtual chatting – that it’s a wonder we have time for each other at all! Because, despite this multiplicity of modalities and volumes of verbiage, it seems to me that very little of substance is being transmitted. As our technology improves, we are perversely becoming more and more out of touch. When did mere communication become a substitute for real intimacy, in its broadest sense: that which is (according to Webster’s) intrinsic or essential, characterizing one's deepest nature, or very close association or familiarity?

While we have all heard stories of friendship, even love, flourishing in digital realms, these relationships cannot be counted as consummated until they have stood the test by which all relationships have been judged since society began – can two people share the same space at the same time and still feel what they felt at a distance? In short, can they stand the sight of each other? Correspondence-based relationships are nothing new. Back in the day (i.e. before the internet), people used to exchange messages on pieces of paper, enclosed in other pieces of paper, transmitted by couriers whom “neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night” could deter. And many the unhappy affianced couple who discovered, despite mutually intense such exchanges over prolonged periods, that upon the occasion of their proximity, they just couldn’t get along. There is a difference between words on a page or a screen or over a phone, and real human contact. We should accept no substitutes. Not when it comes to lovers, mates, spouses, and yes, even friends.

They say that it is only when disaster strikes that you find out who your real friends are. Many acquaintances will show up, gift in hand, to weddings, bar mitzvahs, house-warmings and similar events. Everyone likes a good party, even at the expense of a store-bought dessert, a deluxe toaster-oven, or a check for $50 (which we all write off in our minds as a “charitable donation,” regardless of the recipient or the reason). Simply put, friends are the people who are there for you when you need them, and even when you don’t. Friends help you move, visit when you’re sick, give you shelter from the storm (physical or emotional), baby-sit your pet or water your houseplants while you’re away, usher you out hopefully on your voyages and welcome you when you return. They keep you company when you’re lonely, and help you get drunk/stoned/laid as the occasion demands, sometimes doing so themselves if necessary (yes, even laid, if you are the only one that can make it better right now and can let it go afterward). Friends don’t just talk – they *do.* They make time for each other, accommodate each other, be *with* each other. Your friends are the ones you can count on.

Now, obviously, not every friend will be able to do all of these things all of the time. Some may not be capable, some may not live close by, some may not have the resources (financial or otherwise), and some may “not be attracted to you in that way, not even a little” (although sometimes “even a little” might be enough). But I would not count as my friend anyone who did not perform one of these functions, or a mix of them, reliably over time. The scale of time is irrelevant; it could be hours, days, months, weeks or years between such interactions. What is most important, however, is that when the need is there, and the circumstances permit, your friends come through for you.

It’s not easy being green, but it’s damned hard being a good friend. If friendship is so much work, why bother? Don’t most of us work hard enough as it is? Why not just glide through life, making casual acquaintances, having vaguely pleasant, easily interchangeable encounters over dinners, movies, or on-line chats. Plenty of people do, maybe even you or I sometimes. Frankly, that’s because it is work, and we’re not always up to the challenge. Our true friends understand this and cut us some slack during these times, because they love us, and loving means understanding and forgiving us for our occasional lapses. (For more on this, please see my next entry, “Love Really Is Forever.”) Like everything worthwhile in life, being a good friend requires an investment. And, as with any worthwhile investment, what you put into it is returned …with interest.

It’s not merely the expectation that our acts of friendship will be reciprocated (although that’s part of it), nor is it that we often feel better about ourselves when we help others, if only because it takes our minds off our own problems (although that’s part of it too). Rather, it is because by establishing and maintaining close friendships, we enrich our lives in ways both numerous and immeasurable, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. Physically, because we improve our health and well-being thereby, through the production of endorphins, serotonin, and other mood and immunity-enhancing biochemicals; emotionally, because we are thereby offered the opportunity to experience joys (and sorrows) that would otherwise be lost to us, and especially to love and be loved; and spiritually, because, by connecting with something outside ourselves, we come to better understand ourselves, others, and our place in the universe. Friendships help us to define ourselves, to give our lives context and meaning.

As proof of my thesis, I’d like to close by listing some of the acts of friendship that have enriched my life. Those who know me may see yourselves reflected herein, and know that I love you and appreciate your friendship beyond words. Those who do not may perhaps identify with some of these experiences and, in doing so, come to understand me and themselves a little better. Those of you who have come this far with me, and just don’t give a damn anymore – well, it’s your loss….

Friendship is (in no particular order): rewriting ads or song lyrics, and laughing ourselves silly; talking me through a bad mushroom trip; telling me when someone’s done me wrong behind my back and I don’t know it; acknowledging and apologizing for doing me wrong and meaning it; moving my crap more than once; lending me money when it really, really mattered; keeping in touch all these years; accepting me when I came out; allowing me to express my love and affection through touch, even if you weren’t sure what it meant at the time; yelling at me when I’ve done wrong to myself or another until I own up; watching the night sky and dreaming; calling to discuss the details of a show we’ve both just watched; calling just to hear the sound of my voice; watching porn like it was an episode of Mystery Science Theater 3000; giving me hope that things will get better; giving me confidence in myself; giving me the kind of gift I would get for myself, but either didn’t know about or couldn’t get on my own; getting stoned and having hot monkey sex and not worrying about it; giving someone who loves me an honest opinion about me at a difficult time; baking me some milk-chocolate macadamia nut cookies or a peach pie because you know they’re my favorite; saving my ass at work; taking me out to the desert for spiritual renewal; showing up week after week to play in my world; coming with me when I needed to run away and do something foolish, and then preventing me from doing something *too* foolish; helping me honor the promises I’ve made to myself; being nice to my mom (much harder than it sounds); watching out for my health; acting as if we just spoke yesterday even if it’s been years; being my friend.

Peace.

Current Mood: melancholy

Before I put my first serious meditation out there, I think I need to issue a Disclaimer - mostly for any of my friends that might read these little essays.

Friends, I'm really putting myself out there. You're going to read some things that may surprise you, shock you, delight you, or even disturb you. Hopefully, you will recognize that, whatever the specifics, the "voice" you hear is consistent with the person that you've known. Feel free to comment in public or private.

The purpose behind these entries is entirely personal - it's really a discussion with myself, but also a chance to concretize and communicate things that have been kicking around in the back of my head for years. If I can put them into writing, maybe they'll stop causing so much static in there!

So, Friends, I hope you will read these entries, and maybe understand me a little better.

A theme decided - "The Half Truth"
Category: Blogging


Now that I've decided to start a blog, I thought it might be useful to organize my writing around a theme. As I turned over this notion in my head, I started to think about the topics I might like to write about. My thoughts began to coalesce around some of the "truths" I've discovered in my life (I place "truth" in quotation marks because personal truth is a relative thing). The idea of devoting one or two entries to the exploration of a particular truth might prove an interesting exercise in both discourse and self-exploration. Eventually, I believe that I'll run out of discrete concepts and will, rather than lose focus, explore a new theme. But that's a way's away.


I've also decided that this theme deserves its own title. Since I'm discussing personal truth, which is necessarily relative and therefore cannot be "the whole truth," I'm entitling this blog "The Half Truth," which has a nice touch of wordplay about it.


So if you will forgive my indulgence, I invite you to explore "The Half Truth" with me, to offer your comments, feedback, and reasoned discourse. I'll do my best to address all such as best I can.


My very first Half-Truth will be: "Caring means Doing," coming soon (as soon as I can manage it) to a blog near you.

All the best,

MrFantastic

(BTW, the handle isn't a boast - it's a tribute to my favorite superhero - read my MySpace Profile to understand why)

Today is the first day of the rest of my blog!
Category: Blogging


Okay, I'm going to give this a shot. I've been living in Portland for a year, recovering from a difficult period, and finally decided it's time to get out there and meet new people and get on with my life. But it's almost 2:00 a.m., and I'm beat, so we'll have to continue this later :-) Okay, not the most auspicious start, but great oak trees spring from the tiniest acorns, so here's hoping...!


Currently reading :
The Death and Life of Great American Cities
By Jane Jacobs
Release date: By 01 December, 1992