From: flar@bendenweyr.Eng.Sun.COM (Jim Graham)
Newsgroups: soc.motss
Subject: Boldbear
Date: 17 Aug 1992 09:53:22 GMT
Organization: Sun Microsystems, Inc.
Distribution: world
Reply-To: flar@bendenweyr.Eng.Sun.COM (Jim Graham)
NNTP-Posting-Host: bendenweyr

It was about three weeks ago.  I was at the San Francisco Gay Rodeo waiting
for the events to start.  They were starting late and I started wandering
around the rodeo grounds, the vendor's booths, the dance floors, and the
food booths.  I was wondering if, when, and where I would see Rob.  I had
always associated him with Gay Rodeo and Gay Rodeo with him...

Two and a half years ago, I came out.  I did so mainly by reading soc.motss
and attending a wonderful party at Arnold Zwicky's house.  Soon after that,
I contacted the organizer of the gay mailing list here at Sun (then Brad
Rubenstein, before he left the company) and found out about a lunch they
were planning soon.  It was only about a month since the first time that
I had read soc.motss and the only names I knew were Arnold's (since I had
met him personally) and Rob's.  Perhaps it was due to Rob's frequent
postings, perhaps it was due to Rob's intriguing bear code in his signature:

	am:          B3 f+ t- dv sv m+ r+ p
	seeking:     B2-24 f+/f t-/t cv dv s++ m++ e r+

When I got to the lunch, I was introduced to some of the people there and I
immediately noticed Rob both for his name and for his beautiful eyes.  Rob
was sitting in the middle of the table and I took a seat further down where
I could and by chance this was next to a certain Chuck Fisher.  Chuck, being
the wonderful guy he is, did a great job of helping me to feel at ease at
this, my first public gay social engagement (the first engagement at all
being Arnold's private party in his Palo Alto home).  But there was a
bonus, for you see, Chuck happened to be a good friend of Rob's.  It was
also at this time that Rob was changing jobs and arranging to purchase a
SparcStation for his home to maintain his net access.  This involved many
trips down the table to ask various questions of Chuck.  Each time he came
by, I would listen earnestly, yet nonchalantly (or as nonchalantly as
someone so socially naive as I could be) to see if I could get in on the
conversation (hormones being in full swing at this point).  Eventually, I
found a way in, seeing as I work on Sun's window system - OpenWindows - and
Rob eventually asked a question that I could answer.  This precipitated Rob
moving down to a closer seat (where he could, ahem, more easily ask
questions of Chuck, you see).  Somehow, this closer seat just happened to
be across from me... ;-)

It was here that I first learned of the gay rodeo.  Rob told me of his
horse and property in Concord.  He told me of his participation in the
rodeo (So, what exactly is "goat dressing"?) and so the conversation
progressed.  Later, I would visit Rob a number of times at his house,
meet his beautiful horse (I wonder if she'll ever post again?), and
believe that I was falling in love.  You see, Rob was the first person
that I ever dated in a traditional way (my gay life thus far being
consumed with cruising, t-rooms, and rest stops), and I was very confused
by my feelings.  I eventually sorted them out and grew apart from Rob,
yet still fully appreciating his wonderful way with words and the wisdom
he gave us here on the net.  I am proud that he was my first "love",
however confused my feelings may have been at the time.  I am prouder
still that he was a good friend of mine.  I wish I could say that I was
as good a friend for him...  (I told him this in the hospital and he
squeezed my hand...)

So, it was natural of me to be at the rodeo and expect to see Rob.  I
figured he was just lost in the crowd or busy being a contestant, perhaps.
I did manage to wander back to the stadium area just in time for the
opening ceremonies.  There I had one of the most emotionally affecting
moments in a considerably long time.  I watched as they asked everyone
to rise and be silent for the ceremony of the riderless horse.  As they
led a single horse out by its bridle, they played a very beautiful country
western song.

I thought of all the things that Rob had told me about horses and how the
horse must have felt to be led out into that arena with no rider.  I've
never been all that empathic with animals so I wouldn't have guessed half
of what Rob had divulged to me...  It's interesting that Rob also tried
to get me to understand the beauty in Country Western songs when I first
started seeing him, but I was always *so* sure that they were boring mushy
songs about losing your girlfriend and your horse too.  In some sense, I
felt lucky during this ceremony as I had never lost a friend to AIDS.  Yet,
I couldn't sit in that crowd and not feel the loss, see the young man in
front of me sob and turn his head, hear the deafening silence from the
bleachers as the simple piano and guitar notes rang out across the empty
arena.  These thoughts were going through my head as I listened to the song
and cried for all the people I never met and never would meet:

	Looking back on the memory of
	The dance we shared 'neath the stars above
	For a moment all the world was right
	How could I have known that you'd ever say goodbye

	And now I'm glad I didn't know
	The way it all would end, the way it all would go
	Our lives are better left to chance, I could have
		missed the pain
	But I'd of had to miss the dance

	Holding you I held everything
	For a moment wasn't I a king
	But if I'd only known how the King would fall
	Hey whose to say, you know I might have changed it all

	And now I'm glad I didn't know
	The way it all would end, the way it all would go
	Our lives are better left to chance, I could have
		missed the pain
	But I'd of had to miss the dance

	Yes my life is better left to chance
	I could have missed the pain, but I'd of had to miss
		the dance

	(The Dance, written by Tony Arata, sung by Garth Brooks)

I then left for a business trip for a week.  I had seen Terry ride bulls and
do a fantastic job and cheered him on.  That's mainly why I was there (OK,
so I wouldn't have complained if Mr. Right-Cowboy had come up and introduced
himself.  ;-), but where was Rob?  I would have to follow up on him, but I
had a conference to attend.

I returned to e-mail from Chuck Fisher.  It was the Night Report on Rob's
condition.  I was in denial.  How could this beautiful man, this person
whose words I enjoyed reading so much, be in such danger?  That Tuesday
I finally got word from Chuck on how to go about visiting Rob.  I would go
up that night after dinner with a friend from the East Coast.  No need to
hurry, I had plenty of time, right?  At the dinner, someone made some
comment (this is related to another thread here about postings and company
enforcement of posting etiquette) about "the gays getting all riled up
about a Magic Johnson AIDS joke - they try to claim that AIDS is not a
gay disease and then they get offended about an AIDS joke..."  I didn't
have the energy to fight the battle there - I let it slide and crossed a
number of people off my give-a-damn list instead...  I wanted to tell
them where I was going, but what good would it have done.  I doubt they
could have understood Rob any more than as an oddity.

I arrived late and went through the procedures to be admitted.  The whole
night I had been trying to figure out what to say or do.  I was only
mildly aware that Rob would be unable to talk and totally unaware that
this fact would make things that much more awkward for me.  I finally went
in to see him and there he was, still beautiful, tanned, with those
gorgeous eyes trying to speak out from under what I suddenly realized
were wonderfully expressive eyebrows.  They nitted up a storm, but I was
still unable to understand his thoughts, just his emotions.  How infuriating
that must have been for a linguist of Rob's talent.  I told him some of
what I said above and expressed some regrets for having been a little
distant lately.  He squeezed my hand.  Later Chuck returned and was so much
better at setting the atmosphere.

I saw Rob two more times and each time he was less responsive.  The second
time he could still squeeze my hand, but had to struggle to open his eyes.
The last time, I couldn't claim that he even knew I was there and his
eyelids fluttered once or twice, but failed to reveal his eyes.  Damn it.

As I saw him lying there under the flimsy hospital sheets, I was reminded
of another song that I had always thought bore some meaning for the fight
against AIDS and those who were dying from it:

		The Streets of Laredo

	As I walked out on the streets of Laredo
	As I walked out in Laredo one day
	I spied a young cowboy wrapped up in white linen
	Wrapped up in white linen and cold as the clay

	"I see by your outfit that you are a cowboy"
	These words he did say as I boldly walked by
	"Come sit down beside me and hear my sad story
	I'm shot in the breast and I know I must die

	"Oh beat the drum slowly and play the fife lowly
	Beat the dead march as you carry me along
	Take me to the green valley and lay the sod open
	For I'm a young cowboy and I know I've done wrong

	"It was once in the saddle I used to go dashing
	It was once in the saddle I used to go gay
	First to the dram house and then to the courtyards
	Got shot in the breast and I'm dying today

	"Go gather around you a group of young cowboys
	Tell them the story of this my sad fate
	Tell one and the other before they go further
	To stop their wild roamin' before it's too late"

	We beat the drum slowly and played the fife lowly
	And bitterly wept as we bore him along
	For we all loved our comrade so brave young and handsome
	We all loved our comrade although he done wrong

It's beautiful, but I would change some words if I had the chance (what
wrong had Rob done to deserve his fate?  Only Jesse and Ronnie and company
would have an answer for that!  Ah, but in their minds, better to *have*
an answer for it than to *answer* for it!)

Here I am just two years after telling Rob that Country music wasn't for
me and I'm quoting it left and right...

As for missing Rob, consider this.  Even if you don't believe in an
afterlife, consider it.  Rob will continue to poke his head up now and
again around us and he will always be in our memories.  Arnold mentioned
some of this in his posting about his experience with losing loved ones
and now I'll try to give some of my own experience.

Last October I was visited by a dear old friend from college.  This woman
was the SO of a man who we lost about four years ago, a man that I would
have gladly given my own life for.  It seems odd that one would consider
another's life more important than their own, but I considered that in
him was echoed everything positive I felt about life and none of the
negative things that I found in myself.  Most of the best parts of who
I am today where actually learned from him.  Mike's sudden loss in a car
accident years ago seemed like one of life's worst nightmares.  There was
the fact that I would no longer share energy with this person, but there
was also the sudden realization that this person who very easily could
(would!) change the world someday was no longer around to do it.

I had a long talk with Patty about Mike and she shared some of her plans
that went unrealized.  At one point she was on the verge of tears and I
put my arms around her.  She paused and then turned up to me and told me
that I had just comforted her exactly the way that Mike used to.  This was
no secret to me as she had actually been having a good portion of the
conversation with Mike himself.

You see, when I was coming to terms with his death, I was busy noticing
how his presence was missing from everything I did or experienced.  Some
of the effects of this "missing presence" were due to Mike's individuality,
and in so far as I noticed the absence, Mike's individuality was definately
still intact in my mind.  Some of the effects may have been problems that
he may have caused, but with Mike these were few and far between.  And
finally some of the effects were things that Mike would have done to make
the situation better but which were not being done because he was no longer
there to do them, (or perhaps I did them while realizing that it was
something I had learned from Mike).  But this was silly.  I knew what Mike
would have done and I knew what to do to fill in for him, why wasn't I
filling the gaps?  Mostly because when Mike had been alive, it would have
been his desire and position to do these things.  Now that he was gone, it
was now my position (being possessed of the sense of Mike's missing
presence) and my desire (in wanting others to feel the presence of someone
that I loved so dearly) to take on these same duties.

And so, I talked with Patty and some of what I said came from my heart and
some of what I said came naturally from my own understanding of Mike's
heart and mind, when I knew it to be right (how then could I really
distinguish that it wasn't from my own heart?  Mostly I would just note that
Mike was the origin and I was the channel).  After she noticed Mike's
presence, I then told her about all of this and I saw what I believe was
a marked improvement in her outlook on life and so now I tell it to the
net for better or for worse...

There will be a memorial service for Rob sometime in September and I can
and do believe that if you took a videotape of it and showed it to someone
who knows Rob they would say, "Rob sure gave a wonderful gathering, but
how come he was never on camera?"

So, now we will all share our memories and after we will all take that part
of Rob that we were most familiar with and which we found the most beautiful
and bring it to the people around us and he will live on.

I'll close with some of Rob's own words; an anecdote he shared with a
few friends a couple of years ago:

> From: rob@mtdiablo.Concord.CA.US (Rob Bernardo)
> Subject: My Saturday morning
> Date: Sat, 3 Nov 90 17:24:33 PST
> 
> There was some excitement around here this morning.
> 
> I went out to feed Oriana around 7:30, and I was surprised she didn't
> come running into her stall to eat like she always does; she just stood
> outside with Target (the neighbor's horse), who was standing on the
> other side of the corral fence.  I wondered if she was sick.  Then I
> noticed that Target was *between* the two corrals and not in his own!
> "How in the hell did he get out?" Then I noticed the real Target inside
> his corral and realized *this* wasn't Target but someone's horse that
> got loose!  I figured I'd go get a halter and put him in my corral and
> wait for the owner to come by looking for the missing horse, when out of
> the corner of my eye I saw three head of cattle walk by on the trail
> behind my corral.  "Oh, shit!" I thought.  "There must be fence down up
> the trail in one of the open space pastures." The trail goes past
> several houses and then comes to a very busy street.  "Road pizza." I
> was worried.  Furthermore, it meant that this lost horse was the black
> stallion I always see in that pasture.
> 
> I ran into the house and called 911 and tried to explain the problem.
> The operator had a hard time understanding the nature of the situation
> and asked, "Why are you out of breath?" I finally took the time to
> explain in detail what the problem was and said, "I'm going to saddle up
> my horse to round up the cattle," so they wouldn't expect me to answer
> the door when whatever emergency people would come by.
> 
> I figured my neighbor Cory would want to join in in the cowboying, so
> I knocked on my neighbors' door. No answer. Probably still in bed.
> I pounded. They must have thought it was a mad Jehovah's witness or
> something and still didn't answer.
> 
> I returned home and went to get Oriana from the corral to saddle her up.
> Of all times for her to want to play tag!!!!  "*&^%*^% dogfood," I
> mutterd as I felt like a fool chasing after my own horse in an
> emergency.  She was all excited by the presense of the loose black
> stallion, but finally let me catch her.  I saddled her up and took her
> out on the trail where the cows were, except now they were on the other
> side of us, heading towards the open street!  I wanted to get Oriana
> around them, to move them back thisaway, but she absolutely refused to
> step over this concrete gutter to get on the other side the trail.
> "@#$# dogfood," I yelled.  The cows saw us approach and moved closer to
> the open street.  "*&^%&&." And Oriana was paying more attention to the
> stallion.
> 
> Thankfully the cows moved to the other side of the trail so we could get
> "behind" them without having to cross the gutter and could move them
> back towards the pasture.
> 
> Just then one of my neighbors is there. He called the Galindos to
> tell them about their loose cattle and one of the Galindos shows up
> right then, and between the two of us, me on horseback and him on foot,
> we rounded up the cattle and got them back into their pasture.
> 
> I head back home, and there's the stallion in my corral where the
> Galindo guy had put him for the time being.  "@#%!  Will I be able to
> get Oriana in her stall without the two checking each other out for
> trysting?" I bring Oriana into the corral and she's real excited about
> the stallion.  He meanders over as I walk Oriana briskly (if you can
> walk briskly with an uncooperative horse) towards her stall.  He comes
> right by just as we get to the stall entrance and she stops.  She
> spreads her hind legs and squats down invitingly and I think, "Not with
> that expensive saddle on you don't." Thankfully the stallion was much
> less horny than Oriana and I was able to get her in her stall, and just
> then the Galindo guy came by to take his horse back up to his pasture.
> 
> I never heard anything from the 911 people.
> 
> -- 
> Rob Bernardo, Mt. Diablo Software Solutions
> email: rob@mtdiablo.Concord.CA.US

				...jim
Newsgroups: soc.motss