http://blogs.poz.com/david/ (a.k.a. "Wishihadacat" in our Community Forums) en Copyright 2008 Wed, 02 Jul 2008 14:33:33 -0500 http://www.sixapart.com/movabletype/ http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss I never imagined that I would someday say this, but living with HIV is as much of a gift as it is a curse. We all know why HIV is a curse - the fact of the matter is that it just plain sucks having to worry about whether every unusual ache, pain, cough or cold is a symptom or a sign that we are in decline or whether that immeasurably small cut on our index finger may invite some exotic infection that cannot be cured. We worry about who will pay for the cost of our care, and whether the care that we will someday need will be there for us at all. We worry about those we love, and when and how we should tell them that we are infected with a pathogen like no other in human history. But there IS an upside to living with HIV. Those same worries, those same fears of discrimination and the stigmatization that can be so emotionally paralyzing, allow us to understand the true nature of life: that in the grand scheme of things, we are all little more than parasites on a dust mote, as likely to be wiped off the scrim of existence by some intergalactic squeegee man as we are to endure as part of a greater god. And when we consider that fact, when we tune out the worries and fears of daily life and tune into the wondrous imperfection of the world around us, it brings us closer to understanding that happiness is never measurable by the steel and stone monuments we may leave behind or whatever wealth we may have accumulated, but only by our own memories while we are alive to enjoy them. This Friday, the 4th of July, will mark the 232nd anniversary of the day that we Americans declared our independence from a foreign nation that was then our common oppressor but is now our nation's greatest ally. But just as we declared our political independence so many years ago, let us all declare our independence from the oppression and unhappiness that those of us who live with HIV still endure today, and from our common viral enemy. http://blogs.poz.com/david/archives/2008/07/independence.html http://blogs.poz.com/david/archives/2008/07/independence.html Wed, 02 Jul 2008 14:33:33 -0500 It isn’t often that my workday starts with an email from God. The message was at the bottom of the screen, just under an email from “RussianSweetGirls.com” (I didn’t open that one.) “David”, it said, “meet me at 29th Street and Lexington Avenue - on the Northeast corner, at noon.” Ordinarily, I would have ignored the message. I mean really! An email? From God? Two weeks ago I was receiving spam from an outfit trying to sell me a penis enlargement pill, and now this? But there was something different about this message. Something compelling. Something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. I leaned forward in my chair, cradling my head in my left hand, my chin resting on the palm, and looked at it again. The message header had no return address. No sender name. Just the signature at the bottom. I called in our tech guy, Sammy Padilla. “Okay Sammy”, I said, “what’s the joke? April fools day was seven weeks ago. Is there a point to this?” Sammy shook his head. “No”, he said, “I swear, it’s not from me. I didn’t send it.” “Okay Sammy, thanks. I’ll handle it”. I waived Sammy off, and hit the delete key. Nothing happened. The email was still there. I couldn’t erase it. I tried to ignore it. I returned a few calls and did some paper work. I looked out my window. My office is on the 40th floor. The building stands on the corner of Madison Avenue and 26th Street, straddling Manhattan, with the Hudson River on the west and the East River on the left side. My windows face south, and even on the worst days, the view is spectacular. It’s a nice place to work. I like it here. Sometimes I even manage to get my work done. I looked back at the computer screen. Other than the blank message header, and the fact that it was signed “God”, there was nothing technically unusual about the email. Standard Outlook 2003 format. Black on white. Standard font. But I couldn’t remove it. I rebooted the computer. The Windows XP (professional!) logo appeared. The usual firewall, anti-virus, pop-up and spyware blockers all loaded, doing whatever it is that they do. I clicked on Outlook. The message was still there. The same email. From God. I like to believe that I have a reasonably good sense of humor. I had no idea what this joker was about, but what the hell, I’d go along with it. I wrote back. “Okay”, I typed in, “I’ll see you there at noon, but how will I know it’s you?” Almost instantly, I received a reply. “You’ll know,” it said, “trust me.” Although 29th and Lexington is only a few blocks from my office, I don’t usually meet people, much less God, on the corner there. It’s a transitional block, with Indian restaurants lining the avenue and narrow side streets between midtown Manhattan and Gramercy Park. The last time I walked over there was for an appointment with a masseuse, who promised me a “deep massage with a happy ending.” It wouldn’t be the first time that someone jerked me off there. At ten minutes to twelve, I put the computer into “hibernate” and walked out past our receptionist, Gloria. “Gloria, I’m going out to meet God,” I said, “if anyone calls, tell them I’m in court.” “Will you be coming back?” she said. “Probably,” I answered, “but if I’m not back by three o’clock, I’ll call in and let you know.” I wasn’t really dressed properly to meet the Big Guy. I’d been working on an appeal brief for one of my clients, and I was wearing jeans and a white shirt. No necktie. Nonetheless, when God calls, you go, but if he doesn’t approve of your attire, too bad. As I crossed Park Avenue, I wondered what I’d say: “Hey bro, what’s up?” didn’t seem quite right. And then there’s the matter of physical contact. Do you shake hands? Offer a high five? Tap fists? I decided I’d let him play it his way. After all, he’s The Man. But there was no man. When I reached the appointed destination, the only person around was decidedly NOT a male. She nodded at me as I approached. God was a seriously hot babe. “Have you eaten?” she asked, “I’m famished.” “Uh, no,” I answered, “I had a late breakfast, and it’s a little early for lunch, but if you’re hungry, that’s fine. Where do you want to eat?” “How about that place over there?” she said. “You mean Curry In a Hurry?” I replied. “Whatever. You’re God, we’ll eat whatever you want.” We crossed over and walked into the restaurant. I ordered a mild lamb curry. God ordered some chicken vindaloo. “I like it spicy,” she winked. The server dished out our orders onto a couple of trays, and I followed God upstairs to the dining area. She had terrific buns. We sat across from each other at one of the tables, and I looked into her eyes. She was stunning. Blonde hair, perfect teeth, great smile. “So, er, ah, what should I call you?” I asked. “Mary Jane”, she said, “but you can just call me Mary.” “So why me?” I asked her. “I’m just a lawyer. Do you need legal advice?” “David”, what the hell is the matter with you? I’m God. I make the rules. Why would I need legal advice?” “Okay, so what’s up? Why did you email me?” “I need a reason? Okay, if you must know, I was a little bored, and I chose you because I dig older guys.” “You chose me for what?” I answered timidly. “My, you aren’t as bright as I thought, are you?” She said. “How on earth should I know what God would want with me? Sex? You picked me for sex? I’m well into my fifties and I’ve been living with HIV for 29 years. Why the hell would you want to have sex with me?” “Why not?” she answered, “I’m not worried about catching HIV, but if you’re concerned about it for some reason, we can use a condom. Besides, your viral load has been undetectable since your doctor put you on Atripla two years ago, so you probably aren't very infectious anyway right now.” “Okay, okay, I get it, Mary. You’re God and you don’t have to worry about HIV, but that still doesn’t answer my question. Why me?” “Look, silly. You’ve been writing your blog for Poz since last December, and while I think you’re kind of cute, you’ve been neglecting it lately. I figured I’d give you something interesting to write about.” “That’s it? I said? You want to have sex with me so that I can blog about it?” “Jesus!”, she answered, “the last thing I want you to write about is my sex life. Just tell the freakin' story and let them know I exist. That’s all I want you to do....mostly,” she winked. “Aha! Okay, now I get it. You’re really one of the people from the Poz site, and this is your way of getting me to put some time into your blog.” “You really are dense, aren’t you?” she said, “no, I’m not from Poz, I really am God, and I really do want to have sex with you.” “Whatever,” I said, “just don’t expect me to pay for the room.” And off we went. -------------------------------- Notice: The events depicted above are mostly fictitious. Any resemblance to anyone living, dead, or immortal is wholly coincidental. http://blogs.poz.com/david/archives/2008/06/an_email_from_g.html http://blogs.poz.com/david/archives/2008/06/an_email_from_g.html Thu, 19 Jun 2008 17:17:17 -0500 We’re having a heat wave. The sound of air conditioners fills the night. I can’t sleep. There’s nothing unusual about heat waves; we have them every summer. But it isn’t summer. It’s late spring. The Planet is running a fever. We caused it. Let’s fix it. Now? http://blogs.poz.com/david/archives/2008/06/just_another_co.html http://blogs.poz.com/david/archives/2008/06/just_another_co.html Mon, 09 Jun 2008 08:11:11 -0500 Tomorrow, June 7, 2008, will mark the fifteenth anniversary of the day that the artist presently known as Prince changed his name to an unpronounceable glyph. More significantly (!) it will mark the six month that I’ve been blogging here on Poz/AIDSMEDS.com. In those six months, I’ve ranted about right-wing republicans, polemicized about sex-crazed politicians, vented about vampires, blustered on about disclosure and the law, and subjected you to my grim prognosis for mankind in general. It’s been a lot of fun for me, and I hope you’ve enjoyed reading it. Some of you may have noticed that I haven’t been writing as frequently lately. There are good reasons for that, not the least of which is that I’ve been busy. Between working my day job and trying to Cupcake and Ginger from tearing up the place with their incessant squabbling, I just haven't had the time. Mea Culpa. Over the next few months, as time permits, rest assured that I’ll be here, making my contributions, as it were, to the great Blog Smog. They may not always be pretty, and I will undoubtedly offend a few folks, but I’ll do my best... http://blogs.poz.com/david/archives/2008/06/a_very_merry_un.html http://blogs.poz.com/david/archives/2008/06/a_very_merry_un.html Fri, 06 Jun 2008 05:55:55 -0500 It figures. I've been so busy with work (!) lately that I haven't been able to devote much time to blogging, and the only comment I've received in weeks came this morning from an outfit called "penisenlargementz@gmail.com" While I ordinarily would have simply erased the comment (I did) and gone back to whatever it was that I was doing when I received the comment notification, I was intrigued. Could it be true? Could I really enlarge my penis by using a product from penisenlargementz.com? Would this be the answer to whatever problems might ail me? Could I really enjoy the benefits of a larger penis simply by using their product? I sent them a reply, requesting information: "Dear penisenlargementz", I wrote, "send me your product. Tell me how to make my penis grow." I didn't really really expect to hear from them, but within minutes there appeared on my screen a message telling me that "for only $69" I could make my penis grow. "Well", I thought, "69 bucks isn't all that much money, what the heck, why not?" I logged onto their web site, which explained that if I sent my check to their address in Michigan, they would send me their "potent" herbal product, with complete instructions on how to make my johnson magic. Now I don't know about you folks out there, but the last thing I need at this point in my life is advice on how to make my penis grow. We all know how that works. But I needed a good laugh - living with HIV is no joke. Not wanting to invest my hard-earned money on such an obvious scam, I looked up the owners of penisenlargementz.com using Whois, a service that provides information about web site owners. Surprisingly, there was a telephone number listed, so I picked up the phone and called them. I didn't expect anyone to answer, but I dialed the listed number anyway. A woman (I think) with a deep, sexy voice answered the phone: "Good morning, Phallic Pharmacy, this is Betty speaking", she cooed. "Hi Betty", I said, "my name is David, and I'm interested in your product." "Hello David", she answered, "would you like a larger penis?" "Well, Betty", I replied, "frankly, my penis is already quite large, but you never can get enough of a good thing." "Really?" she said, "you have a big one?" "Oh yes", I answered, "my penis is ENORMOUS." "Wow", she moaned, "it's been a long time since I've had such a real man on the phone." "Really? I'm surprised. After all, your product sounds like something that would raise a lot of interest." "Well, David, to be perfectly candid, we don't get that many calls, and most of the men who call don't sound particularly bright. After all, penisenlargementz.com is a spam site that sells worthless products to desperate men." "No kidding?" I replied, "most of your callers are losers?" "Yes, oh yes", she said, "the last person who called us was John McCain." "McCain?" I said, "you mean the John McCain who is running for president?" "Oooh yes. He told me that he wanted a REALLY big penis so that he could screw all of the voters." "He actually admitted that?" I said. "Uh huh. He wants to stick it to all of us for another four years." she replied. "Well", I said, "that's not surprising. After all, he is a republican." It's amazing what you can learn on the web. http://blogs.poz.com/david/archives/2008/05/spammed.html http://blogs.poz.com/david/archives/2008/05/spammed.html Wed, 21 May 2008 05:39:39 -0500 Gravitas. Wikipedia defines it as the sense of dignity, seriousness, and duty that is one of the several virtues that ancient Roman society expected men to possess, along with pietas and dignitas. The Wiki entry goes on to explain that Gravitas should not be confused with "gravity" in the sense of importance. It also reminds us that "Gravitas" was frequently used by news media outlets during the 2000 United States Presidential race to describe the addition of Dick Cheney to the George W. Bush. campaign. Cheney, an experienced politician and member of President George H. W. Bush's cabinet, according to many media outlets, added "gravitas" to the campaign. What that got us is, well, history. We’ve now been through six and a half years of what has arguably been the worst administration in U.S. history. Despite what we’ve all experienced together since the Redpublicans stole the election in 2000, this month’s rap on Barack Obama is that he lacks the Gravitas to win the November election. The Reds - who believe that Obama would be tougher to beat than Hillary - are also heating up the old “he’s an elitist” rhetoric that Spiro Agnew used to bludgeon us blind with back in the 1970's. Both of those tags are meritless. I see in Obama a man who has the ability to lead us, and while Barack may be different from many of us in troubling ways, he is by far the best of the three candidates, in my opinion. McCain - whose humorous put-down of the Woodstock generation revealed his own elitism - is out of the question. McCain will keep walking us down the same path to economic and cultural marginalization that we all been have walking with Mr. Bush and his friends. If Barack isn’t a perfect human being, I’ll take his flaws over those of Hillary and John. It’s about time we stopped paying attention to the pins on our lapels and the labels we pin on others, and paid attention to the truth. That’s the only Gravitas I’m interested in. http://blogs.poz.com/david/archives/2008/04/flag_this_wave.html http://blogs.poz.com/david/archives/2008/04/flag_this_wave.html Wed, 23 Apr 2008 20:28:28 -0500 SEX. It may be the most complicated three letter word in the English language. Sex, and the pursuit of it, causes more people more problems than any other human need besides food, shelter and a reliable broadband connection. That fact is not, as they say, rocket science. Having any STD complicates sex. It brings another, dark dimension into doing what comes naturally. We seek out others who have the same STD because it means that we won’t have to won’t have to worry about what’s behind door number one. But while sharing the same STD is a terrific sexual lubricant, it isn’t the basis for a lasting bond, and too many of us ignore this obvious truism. We peruse the personals here at Poz Personals and on other internet dating sites, hoping that we’ll find someone else with HIV (or whatever other viral acronym,) to connect with. Well, take it from me, that ‘aint the answer. I’ve been married to a wonderful woman for more than twenty years. She happens to be HIV negative, and while our sero-discordancy has certainly caused issues, our marriage has endured in spite of them. Sex may get you into a relationship, but it won’t keep you in one that has any meaning to it. What keeps two human beings in a long-term relationship are common goals and interests. For most of us, those goals and interests are simple enough to understand; for others, it may be more complex, but ultimately, any meaningful LTR is always based on compatible goals and interests, and not just a few hours of physical pleasure. As I said, none of this is rocket science. We all understand it. But too often, we forget. We forget, or choose not to think about it, because our sexual needs can overwhelm us. HIV has certainly complicated my sex life over the years, and because matters of sexual intimacy (in my humble opinion, anyway) shouldn’t be shared with the general public, you won’t be reading any salacious details in this post. Suffice it to say that some of us do what we have to do in order to maintain the emotional health that HIV all often too eats away at, and therein lies the rub: when two people have the kind of sexual intimacy that leaves both of them feeling joyful in the moment, we usually wind up wanting more. So if you are going to fool around with someone, make sure that you both know the risks. Talk about it. Set boundaries. Make sure you both understand exactly what it is you are looking for before you jump in, or someone will get hurt. And tell them Dr. Phil did NOT send you.]]> http://blogs.poz.com/david/archives/2008/04/it_isnt_crazy_g.html http://blogs.poz.com/david/archives/2008/04/it_isnt_crazy_g.html Mon, 14 Apr 2008 12:43:43 -0500 Catching a cold is like a having creepy house guest - you can’t get rid of it and it doesn’t want to leave. This one started last Thursday, with that typical drip in the back of my throat that always heralds the arrival of a rhinoviral vagrant. And when it starts, you always know that you’re going to be in for a very unpleasant week or so. As of today, I’ve gone through three boxes of Kleenex and I’m now on my second or third box of Sudafed. Suffice it to say that this one has been a real drip. I spent the weekend at home, trying to shake the sucker, but it refused to cooperate. Like that creepy houseguest, it’s still with me, lingering on, annoying and unwanted. The good news is that it finally feels like it’s getting ready to leave. When I had breakfast this morning I was actually able to taste my carrot juice for the first time in five days. I’ve even begun to regain my sense of humor, which skipped out the door when this particular cold lowered it's badass head and charged in. Needless to say, I’m happy that my cold has decided to move on. The weather here in NYC is beginning to change, and I’ll be glad to smell the roses, for at least another Spring. When you've lived with HIV as long as I have, you have to be grateful. On another note, you may have noticed that the link to "Eldredge Street", at the bottom of the last blog entry, wasn't working. It's now been fixed, so feel free to give it a try. Shiny Gates, the heroine of the story, is a very cool chick. If you behave yourself, maybe I'll fix you up with her... ]]> http://blogs.poz.com/david/archives/2008/04/still_life_with.html http://blogs.poz.com/david/archives/2008/04/still_life_with.html Wed, 02 Apr 2008 17:00:00 -0500 Mea Culpa. If you've been following this blog, Eldredge Street is the name of the novel I've been working on, the first two segments of which were previously posted here a few weeks ago. So what happened to them? I repaved the street, so to speak - the software we use for the blogs was unhappy with the size of the files. If you haven't read any of it, Eldredge Street is a story about an HIV positive defense attorney, and a very unusual client who changes his life. You can read or print the latest version by clicking on the link below. I hope you enjoy reading it... http://redlockbox.net]]> http://blogs.poz.com/david/archives/2008/03/eldredge_street.html http://blogs.poz.com/david/archives/2008/03/eldredge_street.html Thu, 27 Mar 2008 20:00:00 -0500 ]]> http://blogs.poz.com/david/archives/2008/03/world_news_toni.html http://blogs.poz.com/david/archives/2008/03/world_news_toni.html Tue, 18 Mar 2008 18:44:44 -0500 It’s been a turbulent week on the East Coast. an F2 tornado (tornados? in Atlanta?) blew through downtown Atlanta, an F3* sex scandal blew through our state government in Albany, a giant construction crane toppled over in midtown Manhattan, and Bear Stearns became the latest bank to topple on Wall Street - selling itself for 16 million dollars less than Heather Mills McCartney was trying to get from her ex-husband. The bright light of the week is our new governor, David Paterson. Paterson is a legally blind, African-American politician who rose to power less by self promotion than by honest hard work, overcoming the obstacles of physical impairment and of race with a grace that inspires the toughest skeptics. He gave a 28 minute inauguration speech from memory that made me feel at least a little hopeful that our state will be well managed in the difficult months ahead. Self promotion isn’t necessarily an evil. We live in a crowded world whose inhabitants often must shout to be heard above the noise. It’s only when we promote ourselves simply for our selfish needs that it gets ugly. Paterson’s heart seems to be in the right place. I like this guy. ----------- * I rated the Spitzer debacle F3 only because it could have been worse - if Spitzer hadn't stepped down, we'd have been forced to endure months of tabloid television features about prostitutes and politicians - two professions that are often said to be indistinguishable from each other.]]> http://blogs.poz.com/david/archives/2008/03/high_winds_fres.html http://blogs.poz.com/david/archives/2008/03/high_winds_fres.html Mon, 17 Mar 2008 21:21:21 -0500 Yesterday was a big day here in New York: our state’s governor, Elliot Spitzer, rocked the house with the revelation that he was a client of a so-called “high-end” prostitution ring that catered to wealthy patrons. As a result, Spitzer is now under pressure to resign. In my view, Governor Spitzer’s betrayal lies not in the fact that he paid for sex (shocking !!!) but in the fact that he campaigned and was voted into office largely on his claim of being a reformer who would clean up government corruption in New York State. As a result of that revelation, we now know that instead of holding an upright position of virtue and morality, he was often lying in a horizontal position with paid sexual performers. His crime lies not in the fact that he had sex with prostitutes, but that he screwed the people of the State of New York by lying to us all about his irreproachable sense of morality. He advocated for tougher prostitution laws while patronizing the prostitutes. In other words, Spitzer is a big-time hypocrite, and that, my friends, is the problem - it is dishonesty in its most fundamental way. By itself, the fact that Elliot Spitzer - or any adult human being - paid young women to have sex with him bothers me not in the least. Have I ever paid for sex? Hell yes! I doubt that there are more than a dozen fully functional heterosexual men in the entire world who haven’t engaged in sexual shenanigans at one time or another. As far as I am concerned, what adults do with our sexual organs is nobody’s business as long as we do it without harm to others - without coercing or exploiting people. It simply isn’t the business of the state to regulate our sexuality. When it comes to who we sleep with and why we sleep with them, we should all simply mind our own bedroom business. It should be as private as our private parts. Spitzer, however, pretended to be above the pale instead of being just another impaler. In other words, he lied to us, and now he must pay the price. On a lighter note, while our state government was being rocked by Spitzer’s revelation, Cupcake, Ginger and I were having a supernaturally fine evening listening to Bruce Springsteen and the E Street band rock the Nassau Coliseum on Long Island. It was a great concert. My ears were still ringing this morning, and thankfully, it wasn't because of who Elliot did with his Spitzer. In all these years, I’ve never seen Springsteen live before. He has to be the most physical guitar player I’ve ever seen. He beats the music out of that ax with his whole body. They played for over two hours and we had a terrific time, as did the whole crowd of 20,000. He and the E Street band are the guys we all want to have a few beers with. Spitzer Postscript: Former NY Governor Spitzer's resignation was a high but appropriate price to pay for his transgressions. Mr. Spitzer should now be left alone to live his life as the very smart, decent (more or less) and talented individual that he is. ]]> http://blogs.poz.com/david/archives/2008/03/sex_spitzer_and.html http://blogs.poz.com/david/archives/2008/03/sex_spitzer_and.html Tue, 11 Mar 2008 07:00:00 -0500 I’ve been dancing around this one for awhile, but I guess its my responsibility to ‘fess up and face the music. In the two or three months that I’ve been blogging here, the one theme that keeps bobbing its nasty little head up on the surface of the blogosphere is the stigma that most of the non-positive world assigns to people with HIV. I keep trying to push that sucker back down, but the fact is that I’ve been contributing to that stigma by hiding my face from the world. When Peter Staley and the folks here at POZ/AIDSMEDS invited me to write for them I agreed to do it with the understanding that instead of showing a clear picture of my face, I would post using only a filtered image. Its been great being able to write for you, but I haven’t been helping our community by hiding my face from the rest of the world. Its time I put a stop to it. My name is David, and I have HIV. I have had HIV since 1979 or 1980. I’ve been incredibly fortunate. As I’ve said before, I’ve probably been living with HIV for as long or longer than any heterosexual human being in the world. Although I’ve had my share of medical lumps, bumps and bruises over the years, few of them were really HIV related. HIV was and still is a deadly virus, but it isn’t so much the fact of HIV that makes the non-positive world view us with disgust, disdain or pity as it is the underlying assumptions that people make that we are foolish or weak or wicked. Well, I’ve got news for you: I’m certainly not a perfect human being by a long shot, but I’ve done things in my 28 years of living with HIV that most people can’t even imagine. While living with HIV I finished college and went to New York Law School, from which I graduated with honors in 1984. While in law school, I won the Eastern regional “best oralist” (!) title in the 1983 Jessup International Law moot court competition. I went on to place fourth in the world championships in Washington, D.C. After law school I became associated with radical lawyer Lynne Stewart, the attorney convicted by the US government and sentenced to prison for assisting the terrorist blind sheikh Omar Abdel Rahman, who organized the 1993 bombing of the World Trade Center. I established my own practice in New York City in 1986 at 305 Broadway in Lower Manhattan before moving to 41 Madison Avenue, at the northeast corner of Madison Square park. In 1989, one year after I tested positive, I became one of the youngest lawyers ever appointed to the federal Criminal Justice Act panel of defense lawyers in the Southern District of New York. In 1991 I won the case of United States v Nelson Cuevas-Ramirez, becoming the first and only criminal defense lawyer in the history of the United States to win a complete acquittal of a foreign national extradited from his home country by the US. Two years later, I persuaded the US government to drop all charges against one of three crew members captured aboard the cocaine smuggling fishing vessel Endeavor II, which had been seized off Panama loaded with 2000 kilograms of cocaine. In 1995 I represented Luis Felipe, a/k/a “King Blood”, said to have been the founder of the Latin Kings gang in New York and charged with having ordered other gang members to execute his victims. My other clients have included John Surgent, the accused mastermind behind an alleged 46 million dollar stock swindle, and 1970's narcotrafficker Nicky “Mr. Untouchable” Barnes (you may remember him from “American Gangster”.) There have been many more, and I’m still at it, practicing as a criminal defense lawyer in the New York area and nationwide federal courts. Most of my federal work is now in the Eastern District of New York, where I am still on the CJA defender panel. I’m not telling you this to brag about it - I am telling you this because its an example of how accomplished many of us are and what we can do. Nor do I wish to engage you in a debate about the American legal system. For better or worse, the system works, and not all of the people who become entangled in the legal system are bad people - some of them are perfectly decent and honorable folks who trip up. Life is complicated. Some of my clients are guilty and some are innocent. A lot of what criminal lawyers do is damage control - helping people get past the past. I suppose there is an irony in all of that, since I wouldn’t have HIV myself if I hadn’t used IV drugs some 30 odd years ago, but the fact is that these days I’m one of the good guys in our system, despite all of the stereotypes you see on TV and in the movies. And I am proud of that. So here I am. A reasonably smart, reasonably regular guy, making a living and getting along. And on top of that, I’m one of the best Scrabble players you’ll ever lose to. Stigma is only a seven point word. It isn’t worth wasting the “S” on. ]]> http://blogs.poz.com/david/archives/2008/03/nothing_to_hide.html http://blogs.poz.com/david/archives/2008/03/nothing_to_hide.html Tue, 04 Mar 2008 14:00:00 -0500 "If you don't have anything to say, don't say it" - Anonymous Its been a few days since I posted my last entry. Sometimes I don't have anything worth blogging about, and god knows there are enough interesting blogs on the internet so that one or two less entries from me will hardly be noticed by whoever it is that keeps score of the these things. It's been a beautiful Sunday here in NYC. I walked across Central Park to the museum under a bright blue sky and let the crisp air blow out the funk that's been hanging over my head the last few days. We all have our moods, and since Thursday, I've been more than usually occupied with trying to figure out exactly what the point of my existence is. I'm still not sure I have the answer, but here are a few choice thoughts on the question: "Not a shred of evidence exists in favor of the idea that life is serious." - Brendan Gill "Life is a foreign language; all men mispronounce it." - Christopher Morley (1890 - 1957) "The purpose of life is to fight maturity." - Dick Werthimer "Life is just one damned thing after another." - Elbert Hubbard (1856 - 1915) "It's not true that life is one damn thing after another; it is one damn thing over and over." - Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892 - 1950) "Life is something that happens when you can't get to sleep." - Fran Lebowitz (1950 - ) "Life is something that everyone should try at least once." - Henry J. Tillman "Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It's the transition that's troublesome." - Isaac Asimov (1920 - 1992) "Life is a long lesson in humility." - James M. Barrie (1860 - 1937) "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans." - John Lennon (1940 - 1980) " Life is a fatal complaint, and an eminently contagious one." - Oliver Wendell Holmes (1809 - 1894) "Life is a sexually transmitted disease." - R. D. Laing "The supreme irony of life is that hardly anyone gets out of it alive." - Robert Heinlein (1907 - 1988) "Life is a moderately good play with a badly written third act." - Truman Capote (1924 - 1984) And then of course, there's my personal favorite: "I’ve got my mojo working." -Muddy Waters It feels good to feel good again.]]> http://blogs.poz.com/david/archives/2008/02/the_devil_is_in.html http://blogs.poz.com/david/archives/2008/02/the_devil_is_in.html Sun, 24 Feb 2008 14:34:34 -0500 What a day! Its Presidents day and because the weather was so unusually warm, the family came over for a little swim. As you can see, we have a very large family. The catering bill is brutal. The last of the clan didn’t leave until a little while ago, but they’re finally gone. Cupcake is resting soundly in her coffin, and Ginger is veiled over the sofa. Life is back to normal. After being arrested for the Great Girl Scout Cookie Heist, all charges against Cupcake were unexpectedly dropped by the police. It appears that someone ate the evidence, and they had to let her go. I’d like to think she’s learned a lesson from all of this, but you know how it is with these kids today - it all goes in one ear and out the other. Maybe she’ll grow up in another three hundred years or so. People have so many misconceptions about the undead. Its widely assumed that they have no taste for human food, preferring only blood, but believe me, Cupcake has very human tastes, as the whole cookie episode clearly demonstrates. I’m not sure that Presidents day means that much to me lately. While I respect the office and most of the men who have held it, the last seven years have been very uninspiring, to say the least. The people who run our country are just that - ordinary people. They have their own instincts and urges, their own places in history, their own weaknesses. We can only hope that whoever our next president is, he or she will do the right thing. It would certainly be nice to feel proud about being an American again. ]]> http://blogs.poz.com/david/archives/2008/02/presidents_day.html http://blogs.poz.com/david/archives/2008/02/presidents_day.html Mon, 18 Feb 2008 17:37:37 -0500