A Christmas Card for America

"It was the best of times. It was the worst of times." Watching the Oprah Winfrey Christmas in the White House special during prime time last night, I couldn't help but discern the many ups and downs, ins and outs, and twists and turns that we have collectively experienced as a nation in 2009. Please forgive me if the eloquence of our dearest Dolly Parton is lacking when I say that our nation's leaders have been "busier than a one legged man in a butt kicking contest".

And still, we are a thriving nation. None can deny, no matter how disgruntled they may be with the White House, that this has been a year unparalleled in our nation's history. One year ago, who knew that President Obama and former Senator Clinton would work together so harmoniously to achieve the common goal of making our country a home to be proud of once again? The rich may not be as rich, but I envision a time when all Americans will be proud to call this comparatively young and new country home once again.

I believe President Obama sold himself short with the B+ that he awarded himself when Oprah asked the question, "How would you grade your performance so far in the White House?" He was at a B- when he became the first black President of the United States of America, a B+ when he got his health care bill farther than any President in our history has dared even try, and an A- for stabilizing an economy which one year ago was breathing its last breath. If health care reform passes and all of our citizens are afforded quality medical care without being saddled with obscene debt then we should all take out our red ink and write a big A+ on the Presidential report card. Perhaps even a smiley face, at the risk of insulting the President's masculinity.

Does this mean that this is the only progress that we expect to see in this administration? Absolutely not. There is still a lot of work to be done and I am confident that the President is more aware than anyone of the challenges that face him. But we mustn't grade his progress thus far on his handlings of the wars that he inherited from the former administration. We finished the job in Iraq. The problems in Afghanistan were brewing when President Obama took his helm. As someone who is unapologetically anti-war, I can see no other way to cultivate our nation's position as the largest world power than to continue stabilizing the Middle East. It is heart breaking that 30,000 troops must go to Afghanistan this Holiday season, but the troops who I have spoken with are proud to fight for this country and all of its objectives. After all, that's what they signed up for.

Regarding Civil rights, the first African American in the White House isn't the only accomplishment we have to be proud of. My gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgendered brothers and sisters are closer to equal rights than we have ever been, with a few states even offering full marriage equality. I can only hope to live to see a time when gays in Arkansas will realize this same equality. Though virtually meaningless in the eyes of the law, I applaud the community of Eureka springs and its bravery in allowing its citizens in same sex partnerships to register as domestic partners. I see this as a beacon of hope among some leaders to recognize homosexuality as an identity and not as a choice. I applaud the presbytery of Arkansas in voting to ordain openly gay ordained ministry in the Church. After all, God's word is for all the people, not only those who identify as heterosexual and male. I applaud the ten year old Will Phillips for refusing to stand for the Pledge of Allegiance until it truly means what it says: one nation under God, with liberty and justice for all. And most of all, I applaud my own faith tradition the Episcopal Church for continuing to affirm the worth and dignity of all of God's people.

It is Christmas time and I have much to be thankful for. Winter is upon us and I believe the current economic conditions are humbling many of us, if not most of us. Nonprofits and charitable organizations are in demand perhaps more than they have been in three quarters of a century. Unsurprisingly, the good citizens of this nation realize this and are prepared to do whatever is necessary to ensure an equitable place to live for all. This is the America that our founders envisioned. We are finally realizing the dream of our nation's forefathers. Be proud of the living history in which you are participating. Love your brothers and sisters in humanity unapologetically and strive for goodness. We will achieve equality. We must. Happy Holidays and God Bless America.

This was written by David Kendrick and first published on his blog at http://www.someonesbastardstepchild.blogspot.com/.

Against the Wall

This is a short story that I wrote. I am entering it into a short story contest in which, if selected, it will be published and win a cash prize. Enjoy, and wish me luck!

Against the Wall

The voice came over the loudspeaker, “Southwest Airlines Flight 23 nonstop service to Dallas, now boarding all passengers with priority seating.” I gasped for what I was sure would be the last breath of air that I shared in the same room with Javi. He looked into my eyes apologetically. I knew that it was truly over this time, that Javi had made his decision, and that he was convinced the journey on which he was embarking when he boarded this plane was one that was necessary to both of our lives.
As he hugged me one last time, I found myself no longer able to contain my tears which only an hour ago were so easily masked with anger. We had given a good go of it, our relationship. I had loved Javi more than I had ever loved anyone. Still do, despite what I’m about to tell you, as a matter of fact.
We had met as so many do, in a bar, in one of the shady corners of Little Rock. I believe it was my 24th birthday. It was a night filled with ecstasy, booze, and drag queens. I was standing against the wall, admiring the art of female impersonation, when he walked passed in his black leather coat, his boyfriend leading him by the hand. Javi looked back at me with a gorgeous smile and our eyes met.
I watched the two of them as they walked across the grand expanse of the Athena Showroom, graciously nodding at what seemed like everyone they passed. They appeared to know everyone, not like me. I knew no one there, except my roommate, who last I knew was buried in a cloud of smoke somewhere in the techno room. Javi leaned against the wall opposite me as his boyfriend approached the bar for their drinks. I was sure our eyes met again.
After the last number by Dominique Sanchez, the legendary matriarch of the showroom, I exited the door closest me for the techno room to find my roommate. I quickly located her red hair, the red glow in the dark ring around her neck, and the lollipop in her mouth. She was dancing with a beautiful girl I knew she had just met. I found myself again against the wall admiring my roommate’s uncanny ability to meet and become so comfortable with someone in almost any environment. I couldn’t do this; I had always been a loner.
I remember watching sweaty bodies pass by me for what seemed like hours. I was approached by a couple of what I considered at the time undesirables: older men who wanted to make me their trophy. Now, I love being a trophy for an older man. But then, I shrugged them off one by one. Perhaps this was why I found myself so alone.
And then it happened. I felt the cool touch of leather on the naked skin of my arm, which was exposed by the sleeveless t-shirt I was wearing. I turned around and looked into his eyes. Javi was there. From that point until now, he had hardly left my side.
We had been through so much heartache. I learned about my disease, Human Immuno Deficiency Virus, in a certified letter at the post office. “We regret that we are unable to approve your application for life insurance as your lab results indicate the presence of the HIV virus. We strongly recommend that you consult your physician.”
We made love and we fought. We cared for one another and we hated one another. But most importantly, we needed one another. Javi was not legal in this country and his life was so hard. He only wanted to be someone who was recognized for more than his gorgeous looks.
And now, here we were. We were saying goodbye. The recession had taken my job. Mental illness had taken most of my sanity. Javi couldn’t get a job, legally. He couldn’t take it anymore, and deep inside I couldn’t blame him. I didn’t like the person I had become either.
I remember taking one last breath of the air freshened by Javi’s Diesel cologne. He kissed me on the cheek. I felt his stubble dry my tears as he pulled away and walked to the ramp. He turned and our eyes met once again. He promised that he would send money to help me. He had clients, good ones. He knew this was the only way to take care of the both of us in a country that overwhelmingly detested his existence. I knew that he really still loved me.
I get money orders to help pay the phone bills, the electricity, and the mortgage. I hear his voice once in a while in a phone call from Chicago, New York, Nashville, or DC. He’s there to be a date to a swanky party, a one hour companion to a business traveler in a hotel room, or a release for a lonely politician who dares not be himself.
I realize that Javi isn’t coming home now. Some months the money comes, and some months it doesn’t. Even on these months, I make due. Nonetheless, Javi’s eyes are always in my dreams. I am awakened when I hear him speaking Spanish in my sleep as if he still lies next to me in our bed. Javi’s gone now but my love for him will always remain. I see the sky beginning to light through the blinds. I roll back over in my bed, pulling the down comforter closer to my body, and utter the words, “Buena suerte, Javier. Te quiero.” (Good luck, Javier. I love you.)

On the Side of Angels

It's been a while since I've put thoughts here. Finishing the semester has been a challenge, but today I will take my final exam. I'm thankful to have this over with and I long for January when I will start with a fresh slate. A friend told me last night that he didn't believe in New Year's Resolutions. "After all," he said, "We always break New Year's Resolutions. I just set goals for the year." This is an approach that I think I will take in 2010. I've given New Year's Resolutions a good go for thirty years. This sounds worth a shot.

2009 has been a roller coaster ride. I am so close to finishing school that I can taste it. I'm not sure yet what I want to do when I finish next December. Perhaps, I will get a job teaching Spanish in the public schools. I would like to devote a good portion of time to my writing. I think I have a lot of good ideas.

I just finished Anne Rice's Angel Time. It was truly a gripping novel, and what a twist from her old style: from vampires to witches, her own return to the church and the travels of the historical Jesus, and now to a hit man who is approached by the Angel Malchia and urged to give up his old life and do the work of the angels. This is a must read!

There's not much else to say now. I'm setting the table for dinner with a special friend tonight. Good luck to everyone with final exams and their goals for 2010. Peace.

Back In the Saddle

Wow! What a week! Those of you who know me well are aware that I was just released from six days in the hospital at UAMS. It's amazing what six days away can do to your life. I spent some much needed time thinking about all of the things that are going on with me. I was visited by some great friends and I thank so much my priest, Rev. Kate Alexander, for spending so much time with me. She was a true blessing.

I am much better now. The doctors have put me in touch with some great resources in Little Rock for help with my condition. There are a lot of obstacles, but things are definitely looking up. The Arkansas Aids Foundation has been paying what my insurance didn't pay for my medications for the last three years. Unfortunately, they have lost their funding and hundreds of clients are now without their medications. While I was in the hospital, I saw a great doctor who has directed me towards several resources that I didn't even know about. I am working with a social worker who is determined to get me back on my medications. We shall see how that goes. Ironically, as I'm writing this tonight, there is live coverage on CNN as the Senate struggles to get the necessary votes to begin debating health care. Really? Should the question of whether or not all Americans deserve access to healthcare even be a question at all? Is this really even a debate? I will tell you my friends, we live in the richest country in the world but the rich have been allowed to run things for too long. Americans truly have it wrong. It is appalling to me that anyone could possibly not believe that health care should be more accessible. After living for three years in Spain, I long for that country. Quality of life was so different there. Perhaps I will one day be able to return.

I'm sorry for the delay in my writing. I am determined to get back in the groove. Also, I will be speaking on World Aids Day to the College of Pharmacy at Harding University in Searcy. I am very excited about this opportunity to discuss with aspiring pharmacists the issues unique to those with HIV and their access to necessary medications. I'm sure you all know that Harding is a private college affilliated with the Church of Christ. What a roller coaster life is! I will be sure to keep you updated on what happens. Until then, Peace. Spend time with those you love and live life to the fullest. It is the holiday season! We are all alive and that is truly a blessing!

Fibonacci Poem

Love
with
harking
angelic
intensity. Love
with your heart and your mind unscathed.

An Email I Received From My Greatest Inspiration Ever-Anne Rice

I'm sure that you have all read or at least seen movies based on the amazing works of this woman. She has suffered the loss of her beloved husband, which I am sure has contributed to her ability to reach the dark side in her creative process. Even still, now she has gotten in touch with her own Catholic spirituality. This has led her in a whole new creative direction. Two later novels, Christ the Lord: Out of Egypt and Christ the Lord: The Road to Cana, reveal a returning to spirituality that anyone must admire, no matter their religious persuasion. Both of these novels leave the reader hungry for the release of her new work Angel Time, which was just released October 27. A defining moment in my life, was when I received the following email from Anne as a reply to one of my fan emaiIs. I was honored and humbled to receive such encouragement from such a literary great. Please read:

DAVID, this is a beautiful letter and deeply appreciated here. I love with my heart my gay readers, who have been faithful to me through every phase of my career, keeping my vampire novels alive during years when they might have left the shelves and never letting me down when it comes to profound moral response. As you probably know my son, Christopher Rice, is gay, a gay activist and gay novelist. I am immensely proud of him, and as a Christian and a Christian writer I never fail to mention this when the opportunity comes. David, I think all religions are changing in their attitudes to gays now. Christianity always has an embarassingly hard time with "new information" whether it is about the stars and the planets or about psychology or reproduction. But eventually Christians go back to Scripture, and to the Lord for new creative solutions, which are not "relative" but deeply truthful. I greatly admire your strength and conviction. God bless you and keep you. Anne Ric!

Unconditional Love

Earlier this week, I came across what I believe is the greatest example of philanthropy in recent days. It would probably not be difficult to identify my personal bias, though. Nonetheless, the recently deceased Bea Arthur left $300,000 of her estate to a nonprofit organization in New York City that provides housing for teenagers who are left homeless after coming out to their parents. What a beacon of hope among so much darkness. Bea lived a long life and no doubt saw a much darker day when gays were more persecuted even than today. But that didn't stifle her generosity and her fierce deveotion to what she believed was just. It is so encouraging that there are people in the world with a heart for these children, especially when they are already plagued with an identity that society won't let them come to terms with. Parents and right wing religious zealots who refuse to accept these children for who they are, I can relate only to Hitler's Nazis. When their hatefulness has led a child to suicide as it has in many cases, those "Christians" have this blood on their hands. Shame on those mental abusers who have refused these children a life safe from harm and a world in which to grow and realize their full potentials.

I got a letter from a "family member" of mine that I haven't spoken with in for four years. He's right. His parents certainly did put a roof over my head and feed me. And, no, they were not even my biological parents. It was very kind of them to do what they did. But if they felt that good parenting stops with putting a roof over a child's head and feeding them, I beg to differ. What was I a pet? They had a fucking cockatiel for more than 12 years, which by those standards was living like the Prince of fucking Sheba. Unfortunately, though, as I grew up and was beginning to realize who I was, my "boarders" refused to understand that I had troubles of my own. Don't get me wrong, though. I know now that my sexuality is a gift from God, not a punishment. However, there are lots of children who are not as strong as I was to resist the verbal abuse and threats of hell fire and damnation. Let it not be misunderstood, that I do not have a special place in my heart for those who choose to raise a child that is not their own. However, I feel the system, especially in the great state of Arkansas, has it all wrong when they deny a child to a parent because he/she is gay or unmarried. There should certainly be a box on the adoption form that says "Do you swear to love this child, no matter what, until death do you part? I wasn't the perfect child dropped on the porch by the stork that they had hoped for. In fact, I was a royal pain in the ass. NO PUN INTENDED.

Parents, if you are fortunate enough to have kids, love them for who they are. You didn't get to pick them, but they didn't get to pick you either. Feelings are unontrollable and it is a child's nature to need to be themselves, not mirror images of you. Fortunately, the kind of parents that I had are a dying breed as we slowly become a more tolerant society. President Obama just signed historic legislation this week that will punish any violent offender of another person based on their sexual orientation or gender identity. To that I say, it's about time. I don't expect to live to see it, but I know one day we will view this time as we now view the civil rights struggles of the sixties. Future generations will be ashamed that they are the ancestors of such hate.

Knot In My Stomach

This day is a bittersweet one. The sunshine is gloriously bathing the autumn tree branches outside. As I walk across campus in my ankle socks, the early morning dew rains on my feet with each step. Everyone is attempting to return to their normal routines after a busy pseudo holiday weekend. Actually, I guess the weekend does deserve the title of holiday. With Saturday being Halloween and Daylight Savings Time beginning. Yesterday, was one of my favorite holy days, All Saints Day, even though I didn't make it to church. Yes, it was a holiday. And a fine one at that.

Yet, with all this beauty, darkness always seems to find a crack or a crevice through which to creep. My favorite college instructor died suddenly, tragically, and undeservedly Saturday night. The irony of it is enough to pierce my heart and send me into death's waiting arms myself. Johnny Dollar was doing what anyone would have expected of him. He and his wife, Susan, were driving near Greenbrier when they approached an injured dog on the side of the highway. Johnny pulled the car over and got out to collect the dog and take it to the vet or perhaps simply be with it in its last moments. Then tragedy arrived when a MEMS truck struck Johnny. He was killed with Susan waiting safely in the car. Johnny taught social sciences at Pulaski Technical College. I had the honor of studying in his World Religions class, American Government, and World Civilization. He was an advocate for the oppressed and someone who will not be soon forgotten. RIP Johnny Dollar. We love you.

As it is, though, I am able to reflect on something in this sad moment that I believe Mr. Dollar would have appreciated. The fall is often a sad time for most of us. It represents death and departing of things that only days ago were alive and vibrant. I am choosing to think of this loss as a loss for the living but a return of a most honorable being to the infinite existence of the cosmos. There will be rejoicing there. If you know Mr. Dollar, please comment here in his memory.

Thank you for joining me this morning in my creative outlet. I hope many of you intend to follow my blog for a long time to come. Some days may be lighter than others on the intellect but it is my hope that we can hold hands and journey into our numbered days on this earth together. While bittersweet, today is a beautiful day. I recommend stepping outside into the crisp air, look up to the sky, and rejoice in your existence. Peace be with all of you.

WOW! Just as I thought I was ready to close this entry, I realized something. I believe Mr. Dollar was also an Episcopalian. I too am an Episcopalian. As I said above, yesterday was All Saints Day. For those who don't know, All Saints Day is the Holy Day in which we honor our loved ones who have passed in the year past. How fitting this is that the universe called Mr. Dollar home on the eve of this day!

Oh, Here's a Fun Fact For You

Here's a press release that you might enjoy.

http://crimesceneinvestigations.blogspot.com/2008/10/man-from-harrison-arkansas-was.html

This man killed my biological father in a motel parking lot over 30 bucks. Somebody must have been high. Wow, if that's not a country song waiting to happen, I don't know what is.

TMI

I'm not one who believes in too much information. As I claim in my profile, my life has always been an open book. That being said, if you stick around the blog long enough, there will be some things said that will embarrass my family. Not to worry, though. They are due the payback. After all, they've been embarrassing me for years now.

I am a prochoice, gun controlling, gay, HIV Positive, very left leaning, Episcopalian. I was raised by a family of wolves in the Ozark mountains. They didn't give birth to me, but they did adopt me and my biological brother. Growing up, we had what I believed to be a cookie cutter family. I was certainly the black sheep of the family.

Well, to give you the quick rundown on my life, I was born on the hill (that's what they call Fayetteville, Arkansas: Home of The Razorbacks). My mother was very young and quite frankly not interested in having children, although I was her second at an already young age. Apparently, contraceptives were not very well circulated at that time. My brother was born a year before me, by the same father, as far as I know. My mother kept us around her family for the most part. She was in and out doing things young unattached mothers do.

Needless to say, Mother headed to Dallas for the weekend with a friend somewhere areound 1981, leaving my brother and myself, three and two years old, respectively, with a babysitter. The babysitter wasn't aware unfortunately of my mother's apparent sudden memory loss. Well, a couple weeks passed and the babysitter was beginning to get concerned that Mother had forgotten to return to the hill to pick up her kids. While speaking to a cousin of her's in Mountain View, a city two hundred years back in time, the babysitter told her cousin about us over the phone one day. This wonderful woman and her husband were two angels with room in their home and hearts for two lost bos like us. They were a married couple in their forties which already had two grown daughters to keep them busy, but they had enough love to go around. So, they loaded up the truck and drove the three and a half hour pig trail to pick up my brother and me when the babysitter said she would have to get social services involved. The woman and her husband hadn't even seen us but they couldn't bear to think of two young brothers being split up. They picked us up, no legal adoption or anything, and brought us to Mountain View where they gave us a great home together.

We stayed with our new family for a brief while before Mom's memory of her two children returned. She then decided to drive to Mountain View to reclaim us. Our new family begged her to let them keep us but Mother wouldn't budge. Her situation was better now and she wanted a chance to raise her kids. So, she loaded us up and drove us back to the hill.

After a few months and several phone calls from our displaced new family, Mother was persuaded to return us and pursue a legal adoption process. I guess things got bad again for Mother. The family elect drove back to Fayetteville and met Mother at at a lawyer's office where she signed over custody of us forever.

So that's how my brother and I came to be . Well, there is much much more to this sorted story for later blogs. In fact, there is so much more that I'm leaving my life an open ended question to you my readers. If you would like to know something, just ask. If I know the answer, I may tell you.

THIS IS MY BEST INTERPRETATION OF THE EVENTS SURROUNDING THE ADOPTION OF MYSELF AND MY BROTHER. IT IS BASED ON A LOOSE COLLECTION OF FACTS GIVEN ME BY MY ADOPTIVE FAMILY WHO MAY HAVE BEEN A LITTLE BIASED. IN ANY CASE, I WOULD HAVE BEEN TOO YOUNG TO HAVE ANY ACCURATE MEMORIES. NAMES HAVE BEEN OMMITTED TO PROTECT THE INNOCENT. LET IT BE SAID, THAT I NOW HAVE MET MY BIOLOGICAL MOTHER AND WE HAVE WHAT YOU MIGHT CALL A TEXT MESSAGING RELATIONSHIP. I HAVE FORGIVEN HER FOR GIVING ME AWAY, AS SHE AFFORDED ME A CHANCE TO GROW IN A SOMEWHAT MORE STABLE ENVIRONMENT. SHE IS MORE THAN WILLING TO ACCEPT ME FOR WHO I AM,IF THAT'S ANY CONSOLATION.

Happy Halloween

So, if you are waiting for help with the nation's healthcare problem, this is the person who has avowed to help us. I found out two weeks ago that Arkansas Governor Mike Beebe was being forced to make drastic cuts in the state's budget. Something to the tune of 100 million dollars. The major departments that would be experiencing a cut were the Department of Health and the Department of Corrections.

"Just like any family or business, state government must live within its means," Beebe said. "Despite our conservative budgeting, it appears that our recovery from the recession has been slower than anticipated. There are still positive signs in the revenue numbers, and we maintain hope that the recovery will accelerate."

Governor Beebe in the same day pleaded with state and local government officials to find more construnctive ways to deal with criminals than jailing them, particularly nonviolent offender. I have to say that I agree with the governor on this point, but the cuts from the Arkansas Department of Health will have far reaching effects. Keep reading to find out my own personal consequences of the state's economic crisis.

I've been coinfected with HIV and Hepatitis C for almost four years now. I will never forget the day that I got this news. Fortunately I did have some health insurance coverage with Arkansas Blue Cross Blue Shileld. The insurance had been in effect for about six months at the time so I was free from the risk of my insurer labeling my new diagnosis as a preexisting condition. I remember thinking "Wow, this is definitely going to be a life changer!" That was an understatement.

After a healthy first year of being infected and not requiring medication, my doctor chose to put me on medication. I am taking the following medications: Atripla ($1500/month), Bactrium ($15/month), Lexapro($30/month). Atripla is the HIV drug that I need to keep my immune system strong, Bactrium is the antibiotic that will hopefully keep me from catching the pneumonia that the Atripla may cause, and the Lexapro is to help me deal with depression. As if I might deal with depression.

I went to the pharmacy to pick up the first prescription. With the fortunate 50% copay that my insurance policy afforded me, the pharmacist greeted me with a grand total of almost $800 out of pocket expense. Really?

I called my doctor to inform him that I would not be picking up that prescription. As a college student, I could not possibly afford this type of monthly pharmacy bill. The good doc put me in touch with a godsend of a nonprofit called the Arkansas Aids Foundation. For the last two years the folks there have been able to pick up my monthly copay for the last two years thanks to private donations and some money that they are given by the Arkansas Department of Health. Sound familiar? Yeah, they are the ones I listed above that would be taking a budget cut. Keep reading.

Well, I remember thinking when I heard the news that this wouldn't possibly affect the help that I get with my drugs. Psyche! I was called in this week for a sit down with my caseworker. He told me that where he had been able to cover my $800 per month copay, he would now only be able to cover $50 per month of that copay due to budget cuts that the Arkansas Department of Health had sustained. He handed me a card for a patient assistance program from the drug company that promised to take $200 more off my montly bill. This still left me with a monthly balance of $500+ at the pharmacy.

Needless to say when the prescription that I currently have runs out, I will not be picking up a new prescription. I have been unemployed since last April until this past week. I finally got a work study job on my college campus that will pay me about $400/month.

So, right now I'm relying on the Democratic party, Barack Obama, and Nancy Pelosi to come up with a healthcare system soon enough to keep me alive. If they can't, well you fill in the blanks. Oh well, that's my first rant for my new blog. Please feel free to chime in with some more topics for future blogs. And in the meantime drop a note to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue NW Washington, DC 20500-0004 with some lobbying. There has to be someone there who cares, right?

Good night everyone, and don't forget to fall back at 2 am.