A Time to Remember…

Tomorrow is the twenty-ninth anniversary of World AIDS Day, as declared by the World Health Organization. It is hard to believe it has been that long. Ronald Reagan, then President of the United States, wouldn’t even utter the word. His successor, George H. Bush, didn’t either.

The day after Thanksgiving is always a hard one for me. Let me explain…

In 1989 I was living in Washington, D.C., our nation’s capital, having moved there for a job that didn’t last. Never fear, I persevered and got another job and had a grand old time. Of course, this was a difficult time for any gay man. The threat of AIDS was ever present in our minds as our government sat on its proverbial ass, doing nothing. There was fear in the eyes of most gay men in those days. “Does he have it?”

It was the gay male population that took control of the situation and demanded that something be done. We educated ourselves as best we could with the little information we had. We took care of each other when we were sick. We held the hands of our friends while they lay dying, their families having abandoned them long ago. We made sure they had food to eat. Hell, there were even fundraisers to help feed and get vet care for their pets!

This was a strange time for the gay male population. We were all scared for our lives, but proud that we had pulled together, rallied for our cause and were slowly making headway. It just wasn’t fast enough to save so many lives. You see, the only medication available was AZT and it was almost as bad as the disease itself. I don’t think a day went by when there wasn’t either a fundraiser going on, a lecture on how to be safe with the latest knowledge or a funeral to go to.

The day after Thanksgiving in 1989 will be one I will never forget. Being the ritualistic individual I am, I always sat down and did my Christmas cards that Friday after turkey day. I got a good bottle of wine and went to it. That year was no different. I opened the wine, one of my favorites then, a lovely red, Robert Mondavi Merlot. I opened the two boxes of cards, the radio on low. Two boxes were dedicated for all my gay friends and another box for the few family members that I stayed in contact with, and of course those pesky straight friends. (That’s a joke for those who don’t know my sense of humor.) I got my address book out and started.

The further I got into my address book, the more and more names were crossed out. I stopped filling out the cards and went through the entire address book, crossing out the names of all the friends I had lost that year. By the time I was done, more than two-thirds of them were crossed out. The more I crossed off, the deeper my depression became.

To give you an idea of what I’m talking about, it kinda goes like this…

There were eighteen men in the Rook Card Club I belonged to. We met once a month for a potluck dinner and to play cards, or I should say used to. That day, half were either dead or dying. The Gay Men’s Chorus of D.C. was decimated. There were over 30 dead. The Leathermen of D.C. was disbanded (temporarily) because there weren’t enough members left of the hundred or so. And so on. The numbers just kept adding up.

I picked up the boxes of greeting cards and tossed them into the trash. I poured the bottle of wine down the drain. Got my coat and went out and got totally shit-faced. I stayed drunk for three days. I called off sick at work and did nothing but cried and stayed drunk.

Since that mournful day in 1989 I’ve never sent out another Christmas card.

AIDS Quilt. Each panel is the size of a casket.

We are far from having this HIV/AIDS situation under control. What saved so many gay men’s lives was education. One of the largest school systems in Georgia decided they would try to teach abstinence instead of sex-ed. Yeah, well, we all know how that worked. What is really wrong with this picture is that parents are more than willing to let the public school system teach their kids the basic facts of life, which includes sex education. If I had kids, there would be no way in hell I’d leave it up to those ass-hats. Just sayin’. Hell, they can’t even seem to be able to teach basic math skills.

I’d like to know how many of you have seen any type of public information about this day? Any announcements? Dedications? On the local TV stations here I’ve heard nothing. Zip. Zero. Nada. It is like AIDS doesn’t exist.

I’m tellin’ y’all now, this is going to come back and bite everyone in the butt. The disease is still there and it isn’t going away anytime soon. You just wait and watch.

So, today and tomorrow, I am dedicating my thoughts to the wonderful friends I’ve lost. The most creative, imaginative men who were artists, cabinet makers, pastry chefs, chefs, cooks, waiters, bartenders, landscape designers, musicians, telephone linemen, electricians, plumbers, accountants, architects and small business men… I salute you. I raise my glass as I remember your smiling, happy faces of so long ago. I wipe my eyes as I love you still. I miss you and wish I could hold you once again in my arms.

Remember…

Max Vos is a classically trained chef with over 30 years of food service experience. After retiring in 2011, Max found himself with time on his hands and was urged to turn his talents to writing. ‘Cooking English’, a short story, was his first published work, and since then Ravenous Romance have published five more of his short stories. His first novel, P.O.W. was released October, 2013 with MLR Press. His second novel, My Hero was a best seller and has just been recently been released in French.

You will find everything in a Max Vos story. From sweet and sexy, even raunchy, to powerful, raw and gritty–something for all tastes.

You can keep up with him by reading his weekly blog posts here: http://max-vos.blogspot.com/ and on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/max.vos.393 or visit his website, www.maxvos.com

Check out his newest release My Hero : The Olympian

Blurb:

ter a romantic evening, Rich and Johnny face the light of day as a couple. Johnny’s coming out forces them to face some serious repercussions as the world of collegian jocks adjust to their first openly gay football player.

Rich is still working towards the World Diving Championships with his hopes and dreams set on the 2012 London Olympic Games, while as a couple they deal with concerns closer to home.

With the support of friends and family, the young couple grow closer together, but with prejudices and adversity at every turn will Johnny and Rich be able to tackle the world together?

No matter what, Rich will always be Johnny’s hero.

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