Fortune-ately

I had a great Chinese dinner on Sunday night with a couple of good friends at a local restaurant, and at the end we all got our traditional fortune cookies. "You will receive good news tomorrow." "A surprise visitor will bring good fortune." 

I was telling them that many years ago, I was at a large business dinner. When I read my fortune cookie aloud, ("You have a yearning for perfection"), everyone started laughing. I thought they were all telling me that I was not very organized.  Turns out everyone thought I said, "You have a urine infection."

So we started thinking Sunday night what a great idea it would be to slip some "misfortunes" into the batch of fortune cookies . . . maybe one in ten.

"Your husband secretly wears your underwear."

"You will lose your left foot in a tragic car accident."

"This meal will give you food poisoning tonight."

"Everyone hates your blog.  They just don't tell you."

So many options.  So much fun.  Ah so.

BOLT

I was fortunate to be given VIP tickets for the world premiere of Disney's new 3-D animated movie, "BOLT" on Monday night. Seated among the film's stars, John Travolta, Miley Cyrus, and her guests, the Jonas Brothers, I felt so Hollywood cool. If nothing else, I was happy just knowing who they were. I don't exactly have all of their music.

We arrived and walked the red carpet, hardly to be noticed. Miley was getting out of her car just as we entered. The crowd was screaming her name and waving photographs of her, as if she forgot what she looks like? Her song in the movie is rumored to be a nominee for an Oscar.

The movie was excellent. I laughed out loud on several occasions. The after party was exciting with lots of food (mostly in the theme of dog . . . but no Alpo to be seen), crafts and games for the kids, and lots of stars roaming the crowd. I even urinated right next to one of the Jonas's. I can go to my grave with that.

If you have been to a 3-D movie, you know that everyone wears big black glasses. It was so funny to turn around and see the entire crowd looking like Jack Nicholson.  If you take the glasses off, everything in the film has a double image. For several hours after the movie, that was my vision. My friend Tim went with me, and he had to read to me all the food signs. I could not even recognize people's faces and I was terrified I was going to walk up to old Disney friends and not know who they were.  And try climbing a flight of stairs with a food plate when you're seeing double steps.

Fortunately when I woke up yesterday, all that remained were memories of a fun movie and a fun night.  I don't have to go through life with those glasses.

I'm Here, and I'm . . . um . . .

I have been away from the blog for a few days in an attempt to focus on other projects. 

Key word, attempt.

One area that has definitely kept my attention is the rallies that have been flaring up all over California and now across the country. Proposition 8, the state proposition to ban gay marriage which passed on election day, is a 

difficult pill to swallow. (And I have swallowed many pills this year.) The struggle for most gay people throughout our lives is a sense of not feeling as good as others. We generally were not athletic stars, and were more "sensitive" than others. Individually, we have always felt that we are different, and as we get older, we have to somehow accept and justify that we ARE different, but still equal to others. The world has just told us that we are not equal. It hurts. It is not hard to understand why there are so many gay teen suicides, and such a high percentage of alcoholism.

A young boy, around 14 years old, interviewed me the night of the elections. He was producing a documentary about Prop 8 for a class project. He was extremely insightful for his age and asked me if I was offended by the mere fact that there was a Prop 8. Then he asked me to say something to the girls and boys his age who were struggling with their sexuality. I was suddenly silent. Fortunately I was with a good friend who has a grown daughter. Since she grew up with a gay father, he told her story of struggle and ridicule.  

I have not stopped thinking about that little boy. He was me. But thank God we have progressed enough to discuss it, and that a child his age can produce a documentary to help him deal with it.

As someone who always looks for the positive side, I see the passage of Proposition 8 to ban gay marriage as a chance to bring more attention to the issue than if it were defeated. I would have never written this blog, forcing myself to confront a topic I never talk about publicly. I'm still afraid to do that. How does that help that little boy? That is why I march despite a swollen leg. I personally need to physically release the frustration. We are always peaceful, but always passionate.  It is difficult not to hate, but we cannot. We are marching for the cause of love.

The photograph above was in the Los Angeles Times yesterday from Saturday's rally, which drew over 20,000 marchers. I can be seen in the far right bottom corner. Talk about coming out publicly! Unfortunately they did not capture my sign, so I have also included a photograph of it.

I have complete faith that times are changing and we are about to cross over a line in history. One small, fabulous, dancing skip for mankind. Soon these rallies, and the entire issue, will seem as incredulous as women not voting or blacks being forced to the back of the bus. I hope I live to see it.

Q & A

The election is over. All of our months and months of queries have been solved. What in the world will CNN do now? Probably have several more weeks of reliving the same questions, only now knowing the answers.

While waiting in line at my polling place yesterday, I ran into an old friend who has been going through a tough time. He said he has so many questions about his life's direction. Another friend called last night and said, "I question why the human spirit is so fragile."

So many people with so many questions. Of course we want answers, and need answers, but my question is this . . . don't we also love dwelling in the question? Many questions, such as the one about the human spirit will never be answered. Those are our favorites because we can reside in the "what if's" forever. They make for great discussion and intellectual debate. And our own solutions bring us peace.

A year ago, I was in pain and my legs were swollen. I didn't know why, and I was desperate for an answer. I got my answer and didn't like it. I wanted another answer. But here is the kicker. The true answer is yet to come. Do we really take our questions far enough? What if, one year ago, I would have said, "I wish to God someone would tell me why I am in pain," and then followed it up with, "And will this pain lead to one of the most unbelievable years of my life?" "Will this pain ultimately change the direction of my thinking and my life as I know it?" "Will an African American be elected President next year?" I can't even imagine that I would have had any clue to ask those questions which all would have been a beautiful "Yes."

We need to take our questions which we project to have negative answers and follow them up with unbelievably positive new questions. I love that. Ask any question you want, and then follow it up with three very positive "what if?" answers.

Last night, a big question was presented to the people of California. Do you approve of gay marriage? Their answer was a clear "No." Questions answered lead to far more in depth questions. "Why?" is a good start. The only issues in question are love and equality. So my biggest question is "How can you not believe in those?" And I close my political questions.

My original question was about our natural instinct to enjoy the questions. 

Let me rephrase the question . . . 

Would I?

I can't remember the last time we had a thunderstorm in Los Angeles. After weeks of record-breaking heat, it's a welcome change. Rain is very comforting, and ironically, lightening and thunder make it even more so. I think the reality is that God decided to wash the streets (and a few people) after last night's West Hollywood Halloween festival, the largest in the country.

So I made a cup of coffee and decided to flip through my journal from the past year just to see if there might be material for advancing my very early stage of considering a book.

Wow. I wasn't expecting the emotion that came with that. I only got through my writings about the early tests, the diagnosis, and my first chemo treatment. Maybe it's too soon to go back.

As I have tried many times to convey, the emotions are not sad. Each moment, each hour, and each day were filled with so much love and strength and learning. The difficult part for me today is the realization that this was the most powerful year of my life and it's ending. Like a football game, I could have won or lost, but as long as I played with passion and tenacity, it didn't matter. Winning just made it all the sweeter.

How can I convince myself that the game might be over, but the season is just beginning? Why can't I continue that passion? Maybe I've just gone through training and I'm not even in my first game yet.

No matter what I type, it sounds like a bumbling mess. I've got to come up with some way to try to communicate this feeling, and I'll tell you one thing for sure . . . football is not the answer!

Last night in bed, I asked myself the question, if I could repeat this past year, would I? It took lots of thought. One of the blessings of the  human mind is that we forget pain and remember joy. I remember waiting for several hours in the emergency room on February 6th, but more vividly, I remember laughing so hard as the nurses danced around my gurney. I remember being sad and lonely in the hospital on the 4th of July, but more than that, I remember the harpist who played "Oh Danny Boy" for me that night.

A harpist, dancing nurses, costumes for chemo, family who visited and cooked and cleaned, friends who called every day, and my head painted like an Easter egg. That's what I remember. Who wouldn't want to repeat all of that? Who wouldn't wish that every year of his life could be filled with such intensity?

So why am I crying right now? It's not at all about sadness. It's all about the beauty of life.