That means I write until I can't stand pinching my cheeks together to hold in my morning deuce.
This morning I cut the grass, had half a pot of coffee and a metric shit ton of bacon already. Also, I dropped the kids off at the pool. What I'm saying is my head is pretty clear.
Over the weekend I watched The Normal Heart. It was about the birth of the AIDS crisis in the early 80s. It was good.
|You really should watch this|
I don't think I am the only heterosexual man who grew up watching AIDS kill his hero. But I am the only one that I know.
The lesions, frailty, the blood of it all. I got to watch it, to touch it, to breathe it all in as it happened.
At the time everyone was afraid to touch anyone with AIDS. And the hate... wow, it would make Westboro Baptist proud.
One minute he was training to run the LA Marathon, the next he was bedridden and covered in sores.
The man who stepped up and said Here am I when I needed, of all things, a mother, was now skin, veins and skeleton.
I had a front row seat to his fight my entire childhood. His fight with his own family, with his God, with a society that often times would target him and those like him simply because it could, and his fight with himself.
So I'm working on his story. It's going to be a blend of fiction and real life. I think. It'll be up on Friday over at twodudesblog.com (I like to keep my heavier shit there. Plus, someone has to write something good cuz god knows Scott writes like a four year old).
In the meantime, I am going to work off this bacon.
Have a nice day.
Yep, the same guy inspired this. What, did you think I made this up?