November 24, 2006
Making family
Posted by: Citizen Crain
I got a few reminders over the holiday yesterday about how we gay men make our own families, whether or not we're in relationships. I spent the day in Washington, thousands of miles from my partner in Brazil. Although Thanksgiving of course has no special meaning for him, he sent me a sweet online card and we talked several times by Internet telephone (we give thanks to Skype!).
During one stretch of afternoon, I drifted off into a daydream, one I've had many times before, of him here with me, maybe smuggled in my suitcase. I know how silly that sounds, but the subconscious takes its own course.
I was reminded of that fantasy later, as I watched the closing scene from "Longtime Companion." I found the film on my TiVo, recorded a year earlier, and had decided to see it (for the first time).
Released in 1990, "Longtime Companion" was one of the first "AIDS movies," and it effectively drew you back to the fear and loss that filled the decade of the 1980s for gay men. At the end, when the original group of seven friends has dwindled to three, they imagine what it would be like if a cure for the virus was discovered, and they could celebrate with all their lost friends. As silly as it sounds, it is a devastating scene. I defy you to watch it without tears.
These men created a family of friends, boyfriends and partners — longtime companions, as the New York Times deigned to refer to them in obituaries — and they stuck by each other as blood families do. Some were still supported by blood relatives, others were turned away, but as the character Willy (Campbell Scott) describes in a memorial service for his friend David (Bruce Davison), their friendship circles were welcoming and unshakeable.
AIDS is still with us, of course, and still kills. I learned this month that Dennis Vercher, the longtime editor of the Dallas Voice, recently passed away from complications from the virus. He was only 53. But even without the trauma of weekly memorial services, there's still evidence of how we make our families. I counted a half-dozen "orphan" dinners for Thanksgiving yesterday, just among the folks I know. These meals are usually hosted by a close set of friends that then widen their net, inviting anyone and everyone unable or not wanting to return home to see family for the holiday.
With so many lost to AIDS and the advent of new drugs, the disease and a united response to it are not so ingrained into the consciousness of those who came out in the last five to 10 years. That's a good thing, of course, because no generation should have to endure such horror, whether from epidemic or war. But these wonderful "orphan meals" on Thanksgiving and Christmas are a welcome reminder of how much we gain from our opening up our circle of friends, our chosen families, to the larger community.
October 27, 2006
Happy half-century, old man!
Posted by: Citizen Crain
It was the weekend before Bill Clinton's first inauguration, in January 1993, and I was at my regular watering hole at the time: JR.'s in Washington, D.C.'s Dupont Circle. I told my friends I thought the guy across the bar looked exactly like George Stephanopolous, the handsome, single Clinton adviser that had all the capital's gaydar buzzing at the time.
I went to investigate, and learned it wasn't Stephanopolous — who also wasn't gay, we learned later. It was Neil Giuliano, another rising political star, but from the other party. Back then, he was the vice mayor (emphasis on vice, I used to joke) of Tempe Ariz., and a member of the City Council there. The New Jersey native was in D.C. as a lobbyist for Arizona State University, part of his "day job" there.
At the time we were both semi-closeted gay Republicans, unsure of the direction of our party now that Clinton had won the White House and conservatives were ready to dump the moderate wing, which they blamed for George H.W. Bush's tepid re-election effort.
Neil and I became fast friends and have seen each other through many good times and some bad. He was soon elected Tempe's mayor, a position he held for 10 years until July 2004. Republicans in Tempe are for the most part moderate, like Neil, but that didn't stop anti-gay activists from threatening to out him in 1996 for signing on to an initiative from the City Council to cut off some funding for the Boy Scouts over its ban on gay members and leaders.
He beat them to the punch and came out on his own terms, but that didn't stop them for petitioning for his recall. Neil won the vote by a 70-30 landslide and in a stinging blow to his enemies on the right, subsequently won a court ruling that said his recall victory also counted for his re-election. Take that!
I have often thought (subjectively) that Neil would have been an ideal choice to run one of our national gay political groups, which have stayed hopelessly partisan-Democrat during the Bush II years, even though the entire town is controlled by Republicans. The result has been their marginalization and no effort (outside Log Cabin Republicans) to incentivize GOP strategists away from wedging on gay rights issues, especially marriage.
Last year, the Gay & Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation got smart and tapped Neil as its new leader, and the organization has flourished since. So has Neil, who has taken to non-profit activism like I always knew he would.
He is someone who sought and held public office for all the right reasons, and who has always measured his ideals by what's practically possible under the circumstances. That's where real progress comes from, more than bomb-throwing from the sidelines. Two decades in politics and activism haven't changed him, and he remains exactly the kind of guy you want on your side, when the chips are down or things are looking up.
Today is Neil's 50th birthday, and from a good friend who is very far away, parabens and felicidades!
