May 2007 Archives

It's Memorial Day. And I'm blogging about myself. Not sure if that's what my grandfathers fought for in WWII, or the reason why a generation of new soldiers are slogging it out in Iraq and Afghanistan, but that's how it is going down this year.

When I was a kid I played War with my friends, thinking I could be the next Rambo if I were called to defend my country. Often times, though, someone would have to be the Ruskies or Charlie, and usually I'd be the foreign fighters just so we could get started. I thought, "Well, there's got to be some reason for the other side to fight, too, right?"

Of course, the military of any sensical country would never have me in any fighting capacity. 1) I have a bleeding disorder 2) I have HIV and 3) I possess handsome features which would prove a distraction to both female and male service people.

Also, I'm lazy.

But maybe that's because I rocked it out so hard last Saturday night with Synthetic Division? We were opening for our friends, In Tenebris, who were having their CD release party. Don't believe me? Well here's a vid that their guitarist/songwriter Jdavyd took:

Or maybe I'm lazy because I did an exhaustive interview promoting my book with Deborah Harper at Psychjourney.com. Don't believe me? You can listen HERE.

Or maybe it's the article I wrote for POZ? I poured a lot of heart and soul into that, basically a look back on speaking out about HIV in "celebration" of this month, which marks 20 years since my HIV diagnosis. And, thanks again to modern technologies, you can enjoy it with the simple click of your mouse... CLICK!

See? Today we can all be just a little bit lazy.

Positively Yours,
Shawn

The AIDS Walk NY was a success. Our team, Supersnack, raised over $30,000... we beat Whoopi!

I know NYC is bigger and better than everywhere else, but is an AIDS Walk really the place to flaunt your superiority? What if China hosts an AIDS Walk that is 20 miles long? Or, God forbid, Los Angeles?

After witnessing the pathetic site of me trying to get out of a booth after the Walk, Gwenn put a moratorium on my participation next year. After seeing the sadness in my eyes, which matched my broken body, she relented. "Well," she said, "you can do half of the Walk. If we both do half that's a whole Walk, right?"

She has a point.

Poor Gwenn, every year her birthday falls on AIDS Walk weekend. But this year, we were ready, and on Saturday night we celebrated the occasion by going to see the Broadway show Avenue Q, an adult-themed Sesame Street of sorts. For instance, one of the "muppets" is addicted to porn. Classic. And the opening theme song is called "It Sucks To Be Me".

For the last few days, we've been redecorating our home, which greeted us upon our arrival with a fresh coat of paint in the living room and bathroom. (I chose the bathroom color, no joke, "Positive Red".) On Monday, new carpet was installed... the room is so relaxing now and, no, the money you donated to my AIDS Walk fund did not pay for any of these items. Really. Seriously...

But don't worry, I'm not going to spend my 30's blogging about home renovations.and in addition to all the homebody stuff, I'm getting ready to play some Synthetic Division shows as well, one tomorrow in DC and then again here in Charlottesville on Saturday.

It really seems like everything has turned around since last week. That friend who was in the car accident has spoken for the first time, naming everyone in his hospital room. This shows that he is definitely with it.

It sounds morbid, but the death of Falwell was the turning point. Since then, it's been nothing but good news all around. I'm not one to kick dirt on someone's grave, but I am going to say that the air here in Virginia breaths a little bit easier without the big guy sucking wind.

I know, love the bigot, hate the bigotry. Personally, I'd rather hate both. It must have sucked to be him.

Positively Yours,
Shawn

Thanks so much for the donations:

Kip Decker, Pam and Buddy Decker, PokerMom, Tarcher/Penguin, Angela Green, Christina (Christinebris), Jeff and Becca, Brian Ignacio, Chip Endscott, Christopher Schelling, Darcy Lindner, David Arehart, Emily Huff, Erin Weed, Ernie Zulia, Gary Deinken, Heather Rudd, Jaime Bloss, Jenny Cefaly, John Berendt, Josh D'Elia, Kimberly Hatch, Kristie and Justin, Laci Stokes, Lauren Hoffman, MC Gravely, The Metro Family, Michael Gibson, Michelle Blalock, Mina Davis, Synthetic Divisionaries, Putra Bridge, Riki and Kawai, Robert Brown, Stephanie Brodjieski, Terril Morse, Tom Boeke, Troy Turner, Vanessa Partridge and everyone who chipped in and donated their talents to the fundraiser: John Oliver, Locksley, Sarah D. Bunting, Roger Hailes, Rob Lathan, Mike Higbee, Sofia J, Brian Pluta, Nat Cassidy, Alexis and our fearless team captain, Angela Hamilton... you all rock!

The AIDS Walk NY is this weekend, and from now until May 20 you can make a donation by purchasing a Synthetic Division (my synthpop duo with Kyle Wiggins) song below. $2 will go to the AIDS Walk NY, and one song will go to you... everybody wins!

And if you're in the DC area, you can check us out live at this fundraiser for the Whitman-Walker Clinic.

Can you imagine if my band cured AIDS? It would be cool, but then what the hell would I blog about?

AIDS Walk Benefit in Brooklyn This Friday!

If you're in the NYC-area, come to our team's fundraising event this Friday. John Oliver, the wryly British correspondent from the Daily Show, will be there, as will other comedians, musicians and authors. Gwenn and I will be hosting, and ticket, time and location info can be found here: http://supersnacknyc.googlepages.com/

Let's rock the balls off AIDS, my blog be damned.

Positively Yours,
Shawn




Last chance to donate to the AIDS Walk NY. Our team is neck-and-neck with Whoopie Goldberg, and I contend that My Pet Virus has done more for American culture than Corina, Corina.

It seems like it's been nothing but bad people news as of late. Not news about bad people, like Paris going to jail (the only news that has softened the blow of Sanjaya's defeat), but news that is bad in regard to people I actually care about.

A couple of weeks ago I posted about my friend, Jordan, whom I saw about a month ago at Cheeseburger in Paradise. He was the picture of health, we were laughing and having a good time, and now after a serious car accident he's lucky to be alive, and has a long road to recovery ahead of him.

But he's alive, and that's the good news.

Today, one of our best friends is about to lose her sister to cancer after many weeks, months, and years of up-and-down news. Life and death is all a very natural cycle, but it's unnatural how much death and saddening news can be squeezed into a short period of time.

Last weekend, Dr. Lyman, my childhood doctor, passed to spirit. When I got to know him, I was just a recently diagnosed-with-HIV kid with no interest in acknowledging his HIV status. I hated going to the doctor's appointments to see him every three months, and wanted to be anywhere in the world besides there, having blood drawn to see how quickly or slowly the virus was killing me.

Of course, from his point of view, he was just monitoring my health to make sure we were on top of things, any little thing we could do. "You need to eat better," he'd tell me, one of the only lines of defense at our disposal then. I'd say yes, and then go home and head to 7-11 for a slice of pizza, a cherry Slurpee and a Boston Creme-filled eclair.

Dr. Lyman is a hero. He was a hemophilia specialist who became an HIV/AIDS specialist by default when all of his patients contracted HIV in the 1980's. He bravely advocated for the rights of people with HIV to have children through a safe, medical process in a time when he was putting his job on the line to do so. He was tireless in his efforts.

Not only that, he went the extra step. I received dozens of postcards from him when he'd travel around to the big cities– which I never thought I would or wanted to see– to attend conferences in attempt to gleam any hope that he could bring back to his patients.

The last time I saw him was in 1999, right around the time I was diagnosed with AIDS. He was retiring, which seemed funny since he never slowed down to even take a breath, unless it was that of his patients. I'd gotten updates on Dr. Lyman over the last few years, he was sorry to miss my wedding in 2004 on the acount of his own health issues, a strange turnaround in our patient/doctor relationship.

Earlier today I spoke with his wife. Lyman had been a bit out of it over the last few months, he was more than ready for his journey to wherever we go when our work here is done. I was disappointed that I didn't make time to see him, or that he didn't get a chance to see the book.

Then Gwen (his wife's name is Gwen, how about that?) told me that the night before he passed, a local hemophilia society visited to present him with a plaque in honor of his service to the community. They'd found out about Dr. Lyman from reading My Pet Virus, so they looked him up and discovered all he'd done for the community over the last two decades and wanted to give something back.

My last memory of Lyman isn't of that doctor's appointment in 1999, it's the phone call I made to him in 1996, informing him that I was going public with my status. He was surprised and thrilled for me: finally he could send me some information, knowing I'd actually read it this time.

And now, as it turns out, I'm going to be out of town for his memorial service, because it's the same evening that Gwenn and I are in NYC hosting a benefit for the AIDS Walk. I told his wife on the phone, "I don't talk to Lyman for years and years as his patient, avoiding the topic of HIV and AIDS. And now, I miss his service because I'm somewhere else talking about AIDS!"

She thought he'd find that funny. And so do I.

Positively Yours,
Shawn

On Friday, Quatro de Mayo, my bandmate Kyle and I had a photoshoot for Synthetic Division. This consisted of much posing and trying to look cool, stupid, and/or interesting for close to six hours while Gwenn and the photographer, Alanna Wiggins, did their best to contort us into positions that would reasonably convey the fact that we are indeed a synthpop duo.

It's not that hard, really. Kyle has his Trek-esque una-shades and keytar, and I have my newly minted red hair.

The timing of which worked out quite well, since I always color my hair after the speaking season is over (CAMPUSPEAK, understandably, frowns upon Bobo Red for college programs). Last year it was blue, which I sported for the NY AIDS Walk as well as the cover of POZ. This year it's "Blood Red," which matches the band's neon Synthetic Division sign.

I gotta admit, it was kind of nice having my picture taken for something other than having AIDS. Music is something I've always wanted to pursue a bit more seriously, and for the last few months I've been making contact with DJs, who are actually spinning the new music, and recording the new album. The goal, much like it was with the book, is to have an album full of songs that I am proud of. So far, the feedback has been very encouraging. And we're booking some live shows, including a fundraiser in DC for the Whitman Walker Clinic on May 24.

Of course, I'm not shying away from my HIV status, as if I could at this point. The bio on our band site mentions my Make-A-Wish meeting with Depeche Mode, which is a nice way to disclose my status and drop my major musical influence. If Brandon Flowers can make Mormons cool, then I can do the same thing for positoids in music.

Part of my brain understands that I should be focusing on the next book. But the reason why I'm so happy with how My Pet Virus turned out is because I went with my heart, and with what I was passionate about doing. I'm proud that I accomplished a life goal, but the book-writing process can be very lonely. I want to be out there, and I love the immediate gratification of writing a song with Kyle, posting it online and sharing it with others.

On top of that, my heart is telling me to give the music a real chance. It's what kept my mind off of HIV in the years when the thought of it alone made my stomach turn. In the last decade I've found peace with HIV, and the idea that I'm going to be around for a long time to come.

My brain, for all its faults, acknowledges that this life may be the only shot that I get. And aside from a penchant for excessive napping, I'm going to live it my fullest.

Positively Yours,
Shawn

The NY AIDS Walk is in two weeks! Please click on Support to make a donation in support of Shawn and Gwenn. Thanks to everyone who has already donated!

I never went to college as a student. My parents always told me I could, if I wanted, but at 13, 14, 15, 16,17, 18, 19 and 20 I had no idea what I'd study. And no college I'd ever heard about listed "Synthpop" or "Slacking" as a potential major.

Every year I have mixed emotions when my semester ends, and last week, Gwenn and I had our final talk of the school year at William & Mary. We arrived early, and went to a nice Thai Restaurant with our friend, Miss Williamsburg. Then after a short jaunt to Starbucks*, we went to the school, where Barnes & Noble were setting up a table to sell My Pet Virus after the talk. Then we spoke, and the students at W&M went to their computers and broke the record for Facebook ads on Gwenn's page, besting the fine students of Drexel.

I am accomplishing everything I hoped I could roughly ten years ago, when I realized I wanted to do something about HIV/AIDS. I'd heard Judd, the cartoonist from Real World San Francisco for my fellow old-schoolers, on a Reunion show imploring people to get active. It struck a nerve, and a month later I had that life-changing revelation... and did something.

I take no greater pride– in anything I've ever done in my life– then I do in the work that Gwenn and I do on campuses. We're only there an hour, but I like to think they we are spreading the word, inspiring others to do something by sharing our personal story and connection.

When the semester winds down, I'm more than happy to see an end to the traveling aspect: the flying, renting of cars, and everything that can go wrong when you're on the road. But by August I start to feel like something is missing, or that I forgot to turn off the oven.

And then it hits me: I'm late for class. See ya next semester! *** And a big congrats to the graduating classes of '07.

Positively Yours,
Shawn

* Shawn Decker avoided patronizing Starbucks for many years. An addiction to store-bought Mocha Frappuccinos, however, led to his downfall, though he still visits locally-owned Greenberry's** in favor of the corporate giant.

** Shawn Decker doesn't drink coffee. "I get high on life," he says.

*** Do you go to college? Then you should know that your school wastes valuable resources on terrible speakers every semester.

If you want to change that, then bring Shawn and Gwenn to speak at your campus, just send an email with your school's name to: info@aboyagirlavirus.com