Questions that blow through my mind

chinavirus.jpgChina is reporting that the coronavirus may have an incubation period of as long as 14 days. It may also be transmissible during that time.

That means that people wouldn’t know they were infected until it was too late.

So I have to ask… Has the genie already escaped the bottle?

Global travel, tourism, etc. may already have spread the virus beyond the confines of China. Indeed there are now cases reported in Orange, and Los Angeles counties, and other countries around the world. How many people do you bump into in an airport?

The 1918-1919 influenza killed 1/5 of the global population. Not to sound all doom and gloom, but with a population of approximately 7.8 billion people of the planet. If this virus were to do something similar, the death toll would be staggering.

I’m sure the CDC in this country is scrambling to learn everything they can as fast as they can. On the bright side, thus far the deaths have been relatively few versus the number of infections (at least as reported by Chinese media.) That may not be as great as it sounds. The 1918 Influenza initially has a small death toll, then it apparently mutated and in its second wave was far more lethal.

We’re not looking at a Walking Dead scenario. But we might be looking at a 12 Monkeys, or 28 Days scenario. 

China has more or less Isolated Wuhan. The question with a notoriously closed government like China’s is; What aren’t they telling the rest of the world?

Medical folks have been telling us for years that another pandemic isn’t a question of if, but when. 100 years ago, the so-called “Spanish Flu” burned across the planet.

Nature tends to work in cycles, it’s neither good or evil, Nature simply is. Who knows? Maybe the clock has ticked down to zero on a cycle and this is nature’s way of resetting the balance between resources and demand.

If this kind of thing interests you, look up the 1918 flu. It’s interesting reading, not just the death toll, but the global economic, and political, effects.

I found that it refocused my perspective. 

I’m not too worried, my apocalypse pager hasn’t gone off.

I don’t think I’ll be making any purchases other than local food for a while… Ever think about that?

When you open that box of “new shiny stuff” ever wondered what else might be lurking in the packaging? 

Just asking, and you’ll never open a box the same way again.

My gift to you…

Sometimes you get involved because it’s necessary…

In the process you see things that you wouldn’t have normally and you learn things.

Case in point.

Hotel Cleaning staff have a tough job. When you walk into that shiny clean hotel room take a moment to think about the cleaning.  The bed linens will typically be clean, the bathroom is clean and everything is to some kind of specification set by the hotel.

That’s a lot of work and the cleaning staff does a lot of lifting & toting. You don’t fully appreciate what they do because you as an individual don’t clean on the same scale. I personally hate making beds. Lifting mattresses and fighting with sheets that invariably poorly fit the mattress make it all the tougher. Either the fitted sheet is too deep for the mattress or the fitted sheet won’t stay on the mattress because it’s too shallow. 

Either way you’re fighting to get the sheets on the mattress and it’s akin to putting a condom on a pissed off rhino.

Note to sheet manufacturers, there has to be a better way…  Note to mattress makers, If you’re making a King Size pillow top mattress how about putting some indents in the super thick area under the pillowtop as catch points for sheets that don’t have a depth of 24” ? Just a thought…

I learned just how much work is involved in hotel maintenance, over the weekend because I offered to help a buddy with an Air B&B rental. He needed to be out of town and he also had people checking in. I said sure, “I’ll take care of it”.

Cleaning a two bedroom one bath cabin in three hours is a heck of a task. I’ve never cleaned my own home in that short a period of time. I learned that you need a plan and you need to execute to the plan. No variation, no breaks you gotta move and if the place you’re cleaning is unfamiliar the task is even harder. I missed my 3 hour window I did it in 3:45. Well Shit! I wasn’t wasting any time I was in motion without break for 3:45.

I’ll grant you I might not have been moving my fastest…

The reason for that was a trip to the ER the night before. 

Nope I wasn’t hurt but one of the people living in the cabins I was there to clean, slipped on some ice and broke their arm, severely.  This is a person who’s at least late 60’s and has other health issues. Okay, as a human being, you can’t leave someone hurting and unable to get up, laying on the ice. But I thought about it…

Damn my upbringing. I was built to protect! I could no more walk away than I could stop breathing.

Sooo, I get the person up, immobilize the arm as best I could, and get them into the car.

My loaner car… The one with no chains on the tires… The car that made it up the mountain while temps hovered above 34F but it’s now 27F and the streets are cold enough that they’re icing over.

Yea!

To the persons credit, and also as a way for me to note if they have a concussion they were able to give me concise directions to the hospital ER. (I was in another mountain town and don’t know my way around very well.) As a side “bonus”, with the situation being what it was, I left the house I was staying at without my glasses. I only realized that, when I noticed I couldn’t read the street signs and we were two blocks away. (Sigh.)

We walked into the ER to complete pandemonium. The place was as packed as the local restaurants with longer wait times. I had my phone, the person had their phone and ID.

So we check in, and wait, and wait, and wait, and wait.

Emergency Rooms do not work on a first come first served basis. They work on a triage system meaning that the level of need dictates how fast you get served. Broken bones that are not bleeding are lower on the priority list than heart attacks.

This ER waiting room was full of people that were coughing & hacking up who knows what, One guy was coughing up blood… great! One kid had a concussion and was vomiting, A pregnant woman appeared to be in early labor. Several people were brought in on gurneys and all I wanted was to go to sleep. We arrived at 9:30PM. The person I brought in was seen at 11:30PM. Xrays were taken and it was determined that the arm was broken in several places. You know it’s bad when a doctor describes a break as, “it’s a mess in there.”

12:45, I’m hoping for the person to be admitted and I can go to sleep. Nope! There’s no beds available, and surgery is needed to repair the break. However since there are no beds, The ER decides to cast the arm, pending review of the X-rays by an orthopedic specialist.

I head back out to the waiting room. I sit down in the only seat available across from a black woman. She’s sitting next to a well dressed black man and they’ve been there since we came in. She’s looking at me with daggers. 

I’m not sure why she’s apparently angry with me, I can understand that she’d be angry in general sitting and waiting for such a long time.

Eventually it occurs to me that she might be thinking, “white privilege,” since we arrived later than her, and yet we were seen before her. I’m tired, thirsty, and hungry (the vending machines were not working).

So I’m starting to get just a little annoyed at the angry glare. I finally say, “ The person I brought in is late 60s, fell on some ice, couldn’t get up, and I don’t know them. They’ve got a really bad broken arm, and apparently some other health issues, but since I couldn’t leave them laying on the ice, I’m here. How’s your day going?” The evil glare stopped. Her friend said something to her in another language and she went back to looking at her phone. Racist much lady?

3 AM, 19F, 3 Helicopter landings later, I’m in the car warming it up. I have no idea if the loaner is configured for these temps, at my house it’s in the garage but here it’s out in the open.

I’m trying to keep the engine warm enough from residual heat so that I don’t have another problem. I’m also tired of sitting in what is clearly a germ ridden petrie dish, I figure the cold air will do me good and maybe sterilize my sinuses and outer surfaces. Probably a false hope but hey, I needed some hope.

3:30 AM My charge is getting into the car and we’re heading back to the cabins.

I fall asleep sometime around 4:30.

9:30 AM I wake up, get a shower and start the day. I’m not hungry, and I’m working on things to hopefully make the tasks ahead easier. I’m exhausted, what sleep I got was not enough for me to fully recharge.

I manage to get the rental cabin cleaned up but I took too long, I gotta get better at doing that.

A couple of times during the day I tried to check on the person with the broken arm. They didn’t answer their door and once I was done with the cleaning and new guest check in, I tried again.

Still no answer, okay now I’m getting worried. But rather than pounding on the door, I grabbed my snow shovel and started working on the ice that had caused the problem in the first place. I figured me banging around in front of the house chipping ice away would be enough noise that it would attract attention.

Having cleared the ice flow, I texted my friend asking if he’d heard from the person. 

The answer was yes, and that I hadn’t checked on them. Uhhh no, they hadn’t answered the door. I head back over and voila now the door is unlocked and they’re responding. I take the dog that is partly responsible for the whole fiasco outside & tend to their food and water. 

And then as one last favor, I end up driving to the CVS to drop off an RX. Then I come back to the cabin and seriously consider just staying the night. But I figure my friend is going to be exhausted, if it were me I’d not want to have to be a good host. I do the dishes, and clean up the place so he can come home and just crash.

I creep down the mountain behind the skiers who are out of their damn minds. I buzz across the lowlands and come back up to my mountain. I make it up and into my driveway at 9:30PM and I’m more tired than I’ve been in a long time. I’m pretty much just running on autopilot. 

I eat something, watch an episode of Archer and hit my bed.

I’m asleep within seconds and don’t wake for 9 hours.

So What have I learned?

Hotel Staff should always be treated with kindness and courtesy.

You have to help people even when it’s the last thing you want to do.

Skiers and Snow players are unbelievably dumb, I saw people on the way up the mountain on Saturday afternoon allowing their kids to get out in traffic, play in the snow, then run to catch up to their vehicle when traffic moved. Aside from the stench of dead bodies in the spring, perhaps we should allow Darwinian rules to apply.

A Boomer’s Reflections

Sometime between 2017 and late 2019 the term “Boomer” went from being a descriptive about the generation in which you were born to being an epithet.

Simultaneously, “Millennial” and “Gen Xer“ also became hurled as insults.

This illustrates the divides in the generation war very clearly. The generation war isn’t new. It has been going on for a very long time.

As a Boomer, I recall thinking my parents, grandparents, and all elders were too old to understand much of anything. Due to cultural constraints I didn’t vocally call out my elders as is done today.

As a Boomer I mostly muttered under my breath, generally kept my opinion to myself and then after weighing the risk of being caught… Did my own thing anyway.

I’m old enough to remember watching the Fall of Saigon, and Richard Nixon famously resigning the Presidency. That forever tainted the Office of the President and “Proved” that the children of the 1960s and 1970s had been absolutely correct in their mistrust of anyone over 30.

16 Years later we entered Desert Storm and have been involved in some military action or other in the Middle East ever since.

But in the time between, there were many other events.

The fall of the Berlin wall, the Iranian Hostage Crisis, the fall of the Shah of Iran and an absolutely astonishing level of technological innovation.

As a gay man, there were other things in this period. I came of age, dated, and slept with a variety of women and ultimately discovered love and happiness in the arms of another man.

I was a “Deviant” at the time. “Going to Hell” as the religious folks loved to tell us, Often, Loudly, and with great hostility.

Politicians liked to marginalize Gay people (We were all One people at the time) LGBT folks were ALL painted as deviants and it wasn’t uncommon for Queers to be institutionalized.

We could be arrested and jailed under sodomy laws that were common in almost every state. We could lose our jobs, homes, and families easily after being convicted. The worst thing someone could call you was Fag, or Dyke. The merest suspicion could literally cost you everything. Slight proof could even cost you your freedom and damn you to a drug induced existence punctuated by electro-shock therapy signed off on by your family.

After all you weren’t right in the head. You might be a danger to yourself. You practiced the love that dare not speak its name. Putting you in an asylum was best for everyone. Especially your family, since you were an embarrassment and they were doing the right thing trying to get you “Help”.

It must be noted: Young LGBT people today face some of the same issues. It’s not uncommon for young people to be kicked out of their homes by their parents for simply being gay. In some states, jobs and housing can still be lost or denied if it becomes common knowledge that a person is LGBT

There has been progress.

The flash point that sparked that progress, catapulting the LGBT community into the public eye, may have been Stonewall. But gay people marched in Selma with Dr Martin Luther King, as did Jews and Christians of all stripes.

Gay people, as we came to find out, had always been around and it wasn’t as abnormal as puritanical America would like to have believed.

In the late ‘70s and early ‘80s I thought I wasn’t “right” even though I knew I wanted to have sex with men. Then I thought I had only a binary choice. I had to be either this or that I couldn’t exist being both.

I was wrong, and it took a long time to realize that I could be both and be comfortable doing so. In that way too, the younger generations have a better world. I suspect there are a lot of mostly “straight” men and women who are breathing a bit easier too.

All this came to mind today after witnessing an exchange on Twitter where a younger person (37 by their own admission) was fighting with an older person and said that us older folks didn’t know what it was to shed blood for the “Gay” fight. Later this person said something to the effect that Us older folks were responsible for the HIV epidemic, I’m paraphrasing but couldn’t help but respond.

To set the record straight: It was our generation(s) that wore out suits going to funerals of our friends. It was our generation(s) that was responsible for the adoption of safer sex practices within the LGBT community. It was organizations like ACT-UP and our participation in them, that forced changes which accelerated research and quicker release of drug therapies that significantly extended the lives of infected people. Not to mention how many people depend on those advances today.

It was our generation(s) that started the major push for equality for LGBT people.

We suffered the disappointment of Bill Clinton caving in to the religious right and back burnering his promises of equal rights and the institution of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.

We did these things at a time when it was still acceptable for Gay men to be “Fag-Bashed” or Egged around the only safe spaces we had (Gay Bars).

Everywhere else we were targets and often ignored victims. The police had little or no desire to prosecute someone who beat up a little faggot cocksucker. In rare cases they’d offer the faggot cocksucker a ride home, for a blowjob. Yeah, that happened too.

Still we rose up and pressed for change and fought for every inch of the rights the younger generation now enjoys.

We were not necessarily heroic. We were mostly selfish, narcissistic, and stupid. But more than those things, we were pissed off.

We were pissed because so much of the society was willing to “write us off”. We were “Defective”, an un-necessary and undesirable element in the society. We were getting God’s just wrath, and so what if faggots and drug addicts were dying in alleyways, or our homes, or in quarantine wards in hospitals. It was common to conflate LGBT people with IV drug addicts. After all, “They want to die anyway right?”

There were even people on the left and right who were saying LGBT people should be rounded up and sent to camps where they could butt fuck each other to death.

Many of us learned a deep unyielding fear. Fear of being found out, fear of being punished, fear of sex, fear of life.

Fear like that leaves a mark, and while I and others of my generation smile and support the young, we also long to have had the freedoms that the young now enjoy.

We can’t truly embrace those freedoms, because we incorporated that deep fear into the core of our being. We have no choice, but we’ll gladly look on from the sidelines and take some comfort in the knowledge that we, for our part helped make society accept the LGBT community. We take pleasure and pride in helping to make a place where the youngsters can fearlessly dance and play.

That’s the job of the elder generations. The job of parents is to make the world better for their children. For the Gay elders it was our job too, even if only by proxy.

None of this is to imply that there aren’t still battles to be fought and won. None of this is meant to imply that the battles the young are fighting are any less important or to minimize their achievements. We, and those before us, laid the foundations, it’s up to each subsequent generation to build beauty on those foundations.

And yes, we made mistakes. So will the younger generations.

To say that our generation was responsible for the HIV/AIDS epidemic is beyond wrong and patently unfair.

When HIV/AIDS got to major population centers, it was all but unknown. In the ‘60s & ‘70s there was no STD that couldn’t be cured with penicillin. How were we to know?

Yes, the epidemic occurred on our watch. For at least 2 to 4 years we didn’t know what was killing us. We called it the Gay Cancer. I sit here today HIV- and alive because a friend who was in the medical profession told me;

“We don’t know what it is. We don’t know what we’re looking for. We’re pretty sure it’s not bacterial. We know it’s attacking the immune system. We don’t know what the transmission method is. In my opinion this is sexually transmitted because some recent data indicates the spread is following the same models as syphilis and gonorrhea. So, my sexy little lamb, use a barrier. Don’t let a guy cum in your ass or mouth, no wet kissing. It won’t be as much fun or as free and easy as sex has been; but maybe, just maybe, you’ll not be infected.”

Mike, God rest your soul. I wish you’d taken your own advice, you handsome loveable furball.

A year later, condoms were on the counters in bars. Guys were reminding each other to play safe. The doormen of some bars were checking to make sure guys had condoms when they left the bar together and reminding those guys to use them.

Home grown advertising was in every gay bar coast to coast. And yet, there were straight couples having unprotected sex and many of those men had secret male lovers or dependencies on shared needles and the drugs they contained. To some extent the “Straight” community ignored the problem until they started to die too.

It wasn’t that the LGBT community wasn’t warning them. They chose to ignore those warnings because they apparently believed that they were “blessed by God,” and invincible.

The LGBT community of the time knew all too well that there were “Straight” men who, like today, want to have a bit more variety than simple missionary sex.

At the time, it was common for a straight man to preserve his professional and community standing by spending a few hours in a bath house with his legs in the air rather than to admit he went both ways. Straight men wouldn’t even confide in their doctors this fact, and insisted they got AIDS from a toilet seat.

Once straight people started dying, the government got interested. The religious right pumped up their power using LGBT and prostitute deaths to lump both groups together implying that sinners die, the righteous live, and mobilized an honestly damaging conservative movement that ACT-UP fought valiantly against.

An interesting side effect was that many straight men now sought out gay men for blow jobs because their “Righteous” wives wouldn’t perform that function in the bedroom. There’s probably no data to indicate if this had any effect on transmission rates.

What I can say from personal experience is that a straight man would often “Sell” having a gay man blow him by assuring the gay man that he was clean by virtue of his being straight. “Oh, I only have vaginal sex, it’s only that my wife won’t blow me, so you can swallow. Really, it’ll be fine.”

Then there were the friends who were so very sick. They became pariahs. Folks afraid to touch them. As the disease progressed, they began to look like photos I’d seen of prisoners in Auschwitz. Grey, emaciated, skeletal. In the right light, sometimes you could still catch a glimpse of the person they were. Their eyes told the tale of the battle they were losing.

I lost count of how many times I was asked, “If you were going to kill yourself, how would you do it?” That’s when I knew they were at the end, and I probably wouldn’t see that person again. I’d always answer them, having chosen my path out of life were I to get sick.

My friends knew that I would answer. I wouldn’t give them platitudes or false hope. They knew I’d have analyzed the problem and come to several possible solutions, each solution weighted by factors such as opportunity, availability, probability of success, and practicality. After the discussion, I’d kiss them, & hug them, often for the last time.

To the young man who said to us elders, we boomers, that we hadn’t bled for the cause…

Here are my wounds. Here is my blood. Here are the shreds of my soul.

In all this though, I am not a victim. I am a survivor! All those who are not with me here today physically, are remembered and loved. I live on, and live well because that is what they would wish for, and expect of me. I’ll see them again. They’ve got a bar tab running and a glass with my name on it.

I say this sincerely young man. May you never have to endure losses such as I have endured.


In my time, there was Interferon, then the first of the cocktails, then second and third generation drugs to keep HIV at bay. Each one extending the lifespan of those infected and leading to a greater understanding of HIV and other viruses. But all of these drugs came at a price to the user’s overall health. Some became toxic over time. Others simply stopped working.

Now we have PREP.

But not a cure.

Still, it’s progress.


This same young man implied that Boomers were also responsible for increasing HIV rates.

In point of fact HIV infection rates were dropping. But they’ve now seen an uptick because the disease has become fashionably manageable.

I’ve been present in several public situations where beautiful twenty something young men were asking to be fucked unprotected by HIV+ men.

Their reasoning in making this absurd and insane request was that they wanted to be able to have unprotected sex without fear of HIV since they’d already be positive. Then they could get on a cocktail and have as much unsafe sex as they wanted to. They said literally, “We just don’t want to have to worry about it.” At which point, why bother to purposely get infected? It’ll happen in due course if you play unsafely.

The most recent occasion went like this: Upon hearing their request, this was at a cocktail party not an orgy… I wondered if they were going to be able to leave without being skinned alive (metaphorically) by the elder men in the room. These youngsters didn’t even grasp their error. They had no clue why suddenly the elders in the room were visibly angry. The elders were comprised of about half who were HIV+ and half who were HIV-.

One of the elder men who is HIV+ took these two youngsters aside and began explaining to them why this was such a bad idea. He explained side effects, drug interactions, and just how careful he had to be with diet and exercise. He explained that it was expensive. In his case insurance didn’t fully cover the drugs he used and that he’d give anything to live a “normal” life. The younger men would not be dissuaded and were finally asked to leave.

I have no idea if they found someone to grant their wishes. I hope they didn’t.

So again, to the young man stating that increasing HIV rates are the responsibility of “Boomers” I call bullshit.

The increase is to be laid squarely at your generation’s feet, all wrapped up with a pretty sparkly bow.

In other words son, own your shit! After all you’ve demanded nothing less of my generation.