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SR please call the operator.
Dr. Crest, please call the operator.
- Who the fuck are you?
I"m sorry, I don't pick up that channel.
Wanna try it again?
- I said,
my name is David Bennett.
I'm your buddy
from the Gay Center.
- Have a seat.
Say,
they really got you dolled up for your grand entrance.
- Well, they said I should wear this to be on the safe side.
Shouldn't I?
- Well, you know what they say.
If they give you lined paper, write the other way.
- Well I did feel sorta silly getting into this.
But I've never done this sorta thing before.
- You volunteered, didn't you?
Yeah.
- Why?
- I don't know, really.
I mean, I'm gay but that's not big thing.
I don't have any friends who have AIDs.
My lover, Steve,
he's had two friends who've--
- Died.
You can say t.
I won't break up.
I didn't know what to bring you.
It was just an impulse.
- Oh, wow, I love these.
A great impulse.
Mmmm.
So what did make you volunteer to by my buddy?
Fate?
- No.
I guess it's because of a book.
- Oh God, you're not a gay writer.
- No.
I'm a typesetter.
Freelance.
- Well,
word processing is where it's at.
- 'M not a word processor.
I'm a typesetter.
It's really quiet different.
See, I'm setting the type for this book
called "The AIDS Reader" and it includes articles
on how the HTLV-III virus was discovered,
the quarantine laws in England,
confidentiality in the blood tests,
life and death statistical projections.
Plus, first person accounts,
like guys getting fired because of AIDS
and getting kicked out of their apartments.
They have this one piece on being a buddy.
Well, I have flexible hours,
so I called the gay group and I volunteered.
So he fell asleep on you, just like that?
- Uh huh.
You must've been telling him all about typesetting.
- I was.
But he's on a lot of medication.
I think he was just tired.
What's he like?
- He seems okay.
Intelligent.
We're both a little nervous.
Me especially.
Sorry you signed up?
- Well, he's not what I expected.
Which was what?
- Which was someone who was gonna need real help.
I don't even know what I'm supposed to do for him.
Guess I imagined an AIDS patient was gonna be more serious.
Better he's up than down.
- Yeah, I know.
I guess it's just the first time kinks, huh?
I gotta go, Ill see you tonight?
- Okay.
I've decided to keep a record
of my visits with Robert.
A record of my real feelings about him
and me being his buddy.
Because I've already started to do
what I always do with Steve,
my friends and myself.
Fixing up what I really think so it sounds acceptable.
I'm gonna try and write the truth in this journal.
First, I don't think I even like Robert Willow.
His smug attitude, his smirky, little,
"If they give you lined paper,
"write the other way," bullshit.
Secondly, I think Steve has already heard in my voice
that part of me is sorry for having volunteered.
I feel sappy about trying to help.
I think I'm doing it to make me feel good.
I don't have the guts to back out,
to explain it to Robert or explain it to Lynn at the center.
So I'm gonna give it a try.
Sorry 1 fell asleep on you the other day.
No problem.
How's this taste?
I hate carrots.
When did they put the IVs in?
- This morning, early.
But it's just for today, I guess.
A new antibiotic.
It hurts to move my arms with the needles.
I feel weird.
You're feeding me and I don't even know you.
- Well, my name is David Bennett.
I'm 25.
I was born in New York City.
- Not that stuff.
Like, who are you?
- Why don't you ask what you wanna know?
- When did you know you were gay?
Too personal, huh?
- Yeah.
I mean, I never thought about that.
What a weird question to ask.
- I think it's basic.
A person's real identity.
Sex is the part that makes you in or out,
hot or cold.
You know, where you passion is.
It's not everything but it's a big piece of the puzzle.
- When did you know?
- When I was nine.
I had a crush on this older guy
that used to wash our windows and water our lawn
in San Diego.
La Jolla, where I was born.
God, he was tall
and he used to walk around in his shorts
like he owned the world.
That's when I knew.
What about you?
- Well,
I was 16 when I realized that girls
really weren't gonna do it for me.
I knew inside that I like guys
and then in my senior year I met Craig Cartwright
and he was my own age and from Staten Island
and I knew then for sure
but it was no big thing.
I mean, I told my parents
and they had an inkling about me all along and that was it.
Craig, he went by the boards pretty quickly
but I started dating guys until I met Steve.
- Your parents sound coo.
Mine disowned me when I told them back in 1971.
It was like one of those silent films
where the father throws the kid out into the storm.
Except for with me, it was California sunshine.
I don't want anymore.
- No, now the nurse said you're supposed to finish this,
I mean all of it.
- Did you bring anymore Reese's?
- No.
Now, come on and try some of this very tasty...
Well, you fry it and let me know what it is.
- Shredded hospital rat.
Steve and you tight?
- We've been together for five years.
Since I was 20.
- And you love him?
I mean, you're still in love with him?
Still too personal?
- Steve doesn't even ask me questions like that.
- So?
That's because he knows the answer.
I retract the question.
- No, no, I mean, it's just that I'm not used
to being asked about my private life.
I love Steve.
He's been there so long
that I don't think about him very consciously.
We're very different.
I am security oriented and he's more outgoing.
But we're still in love.
- How can you tell?
Is it still sexy after five years?
- You've got a one-track mind.
In the beginning, Steve liked to have sex more than I did.
But then I sorta caught up.
I know what you're thinking.
- What?
- Except for when we first became lovers,
I've had two affairs.
One with Steve's best friend,
but since that, that's four years ago,
I've been faithful to Steve.
As far as I know, he's been exclusively mine.
What?
- That's what I was gonna ask.
What do you mean, disowned him?
- Mom, when they found out he was gay that was it.
They cut him off.
But he's sick.
Maybe dying.
What sort of people could--
- Mom, it's not like everybody has the same values.
A child is your child, no matter what.
Maybe you should get their address and drive them?
- Mom, Robert's a grown man.
Well, you're his buddy.
Maybe you should just do it.
Write them a letter, set up a reunion.
- Fly them to New York, orchestra seats
and then off to the hospital for a big reconciliation?
Don't get sarcastic.
You know what I mean.
- Mom, if there were gonna come
they would've done it by now.
All parents are not like you and Dad.
Does he need anything?
Does he have a lover?
- I don't know.
So far, I've talked more about myself
than he has told me about him.
How bad is it, the AIDS?
- He's had pneumonia two times in the last nine months.
He's pretty weak.
Well your father and I are very proud of you, David,
volunteering and all.
If there's anything we can do, let me know.
Give my best to Steve.
- Okay.
I love you.
I love you too, dear.
- Bye, bye.
Bye.
Seeing Robert helpless,
in pain and trying not to show t, made me feel foolish.
I'm glad I decided to stay with this buddy thing.
Suddenly my parents and Steve seem very special.
And Robert, with his service optimism,
has piqued my curiosity.
What's he like when I'm not there?
What was he like before acquired immunodeficiency syndrome?
I hate writing the words
and I wanna know how sick he really is.
At the center they said he is going to die,
that there are no miracles,
that I should encourage him
No} emotionally close to him.
That I must keep an objective distance
or else I may not be able to help him.
It's clear that if I'm going to be Robert's buddy,
'm gonna have to do more than just show up.
I'm gonna have o listen.
- And my mom,
she couldn't understand your parents kicking you out.
- Looking back,
it was terrible.
But at the time I fell right into the world
of dawning gay liberation,
in Edward's arms.
Edward's the great love of my life.
His two favorite things are getting it on outdoors
and politics.
Gay rights, gay community,
marching, demonstrating.
Edward was so intellectual.
And I was a gardener.
Very laid back.
We were a hot match.
The brainy politico and his humpy sidekick.
We bought a van.
Drove around Yosemite,
Tahoe,
down Highway One.
He was my own professional homosexual.
He used to lecture at schools, to the cops
and before church groups.
He got a job with a gay newspaper in San Francisco
and I used to help him with the midnight deliveries
and the mailing lists.
It was an open relationship.
We both slept around.
Edward more than me.
I always wanted something that would last.
It's funny how no two lovers
ever love each other the same.
Well, it was good for seven years.
Then the newspaper failed and politics went mainstream
and Edward's street methods
just didn't fit in.
Edward moved to Hawaii
and then to Portland, Oregon.
He was burned out.
As for me, I kept the van
and I drove around like a nomad
until 1980, when I met Tom,
who was vacationing from New York.
We fell very conventionally in love
and I came East to give it a try.
Tom is a successful executive consultant
and he was a lot of fun until I got AIDS.
I think that our relationship might have gotten
through the usual problems,
but the AIDS hysteria,
the fear that he'd get it from me,
the guilt that maybe I'd gotten it from him,
just killed his love.
So he gave me three thousand dollars in cash.
I rented a room from my friend, Philip,
and I sought treatment.
New York is a hard place for sick people
and if you've got AIDS,
it's the pits.
- He dropped you?
Just like that?
- Tom's not a strong person.
But there's Ellen.
She's a good friend.
Neighbor.
She brings me my mail
and the flowers.
I never really took to New York.
And by the time I realized
I shoulda gone back to California,
I was too sick to pull off the change.
- Edward?
Does he know?
- We wrote a few letters.
He came to visit me six months ago,
when I had the first bout of pneumonia.
But I was really out of it
and I wasn't able to...
To really talk to him.
He came by everyday.
I wished I had had the strength to talk to him then.
He was really broke.
And that trip took all he had on a lot of levels.
I wish
I coulda have bridged that time
that we had back then.
But we didn't.
That was my fault.
Mr. Bennett,
I'm sorry to interrupt
but it's time for Robert's medication now.
- You don't wanna watch this.
It's pretty grisly.
"The treatment."
- No, I can take it.
- I know.
I was just kidding.
But it's the rules.
I'm sorry, Mr. Bennett,
but those really are the rules.
Come on, David, come on, David, yeah.
All right, smooth move, David, that's it.
Al right, lose your breath, David.
Go with your breath, come on.
Follow through, all the way through, David.
Yeah, that's it.
Now bring it in.
Don't close your eyes.
Keep them open, come on.
Yeah, just a little longer, good.
All right.
Yeah, keep those elbows in, David.
How can Robert just sit in that bed
and tell me the intimate details of his life?
Like it was some nostalgic trip down memory lane?
No anger, no regret.
All the time and energy wasted
on his gay lib political dreams,
the gay community,
and what did it get him?
Abandoned.
And yet he's so cool and easy with it
like he was telling me a story.
Edward, the great love of his life.
It sounds so silly, and yet, when he said it I thought,
"Am I the great love of Steve's life?
"Is he mine?"
- Jim?
Am I a wimp?
David, you're coming along
but the problem is not in your body.
Half the battle's in your mind.
It's in your head.
I'm angry at Tom
for not sticking by Robert
and Edward for drifting out of his life.
But more, I'm deeply angry with Robert himself
for taking it all without a fight.
For accepting the way that these men have treated him.
Although, honestly, I don't know how I would've handled it.
If Steve stopped caring,
what would I do?
- These are the galley proofs for the AIDS Reader.
See, these are almost finished.
They're close to perfect
and I've figured out a way to lay out this material
so it'll be very simple to read.
- Looks like a book set to go.
- See, that's the difference
between typesetting and word processing.
It's camera ready.
- You're really into this, aren't you?
- Yeah, I like my job.
- "AIDS is perhaps the harsh but real retribution
"of a God too long neglected.
"Nature's revenge on an unnatural minority's
"arrogant disregard of her elemental law."
What's in this book you're doing?
- Well, it has all different points of view in it.
- And this is whose point of view?
- Lots of religious people view ages as a punishment
sent from God to gays.
- Do people...
really think God wants me here?
Robert, stop.
- Isolates gays from everybody else!
Like we're expendable!
- Robert, take a breath for Christ sakes!
- It's like...
saying God...
created the Nazis to keep the Jews in line.
- Robert, take a breath.
- Or all the black people...
- Robert, you're hurting yourself,
- All the black people starving in Africa
like it's their fault!
- It's just a book, Robert, come on Now.
- So God created the virus
to stop gay people from having sex?!
Robert, just forget about the book.
- To kill them!
- Stop!
- A cruel God is no God at all!
Robert, lay Back.
Relax, relax.
So stupid!
Tale a breath.
Come on, come on, come on.
Relax.
That's good, yeah.
Once at a swimming pool,
I saw a little girl almost drown
and last year, at a restaurant, I watched helplessly
as a man nearly chocked to death
till someone struck him on the chest and saves his life.
Both that girl and man wanted to catch their breaths
but something about Robert scares me.
He was more interested in shouting down
that "God is revenge" quotation
than regaining his own composure.
What sort of a man could feel so personally attacked
by the words on those galley sheets?
I have never seen a response SO inappropriate
and, yet, so real.
He seemed willing to literally die rather than shut up.
I've never met a person like Robert Willow.
He unnerves me.
- Hello?
David, it's Robert.
I called to thank you for getting the nurse in time.
- I'm sorry I brought the galley sheets in.
If I thought they were going to upset you, I wouldn't have.
- No,
I wanna read them.
It's just my way.
'M still trying to change things that are beyond me.
I just get so angry thinking that some people
thing God is like them.
Anyway, thanks for not listening but for getting me help.
- I'm glad I was there.
But look, I need a favor.
- What?
- Well, my roommate Philip,
he's been paying my share of the rent now for six months
and he needs to rend my room.
You know how expensive everything is in New York.
- Yeah?
So what do you want me to do?
- Well, I was wondering
if you could come to the hospital and get my keys
and then go to my apartment and pick up my personal things.
There's not a lot.
But Philip needs the room empty.
- Robert, where do you live?
Can't he bring your things over?
- On the Upper West side.
West 76th Street.
Look, David,
Philip would do it
but he's afraid to come to the hospital.
He's probably gonna burn the keys when you leave them
but he's done his best for six months.
- Sure, Robert, I'll come over tomorrow.
- Thanks.
Philip works during the day,
50 you won't run into him.
No scenes.
Sure, Robert, it's really no hustle at all.
- Thanks.
Goodnight.
- Goodnight.
"Dear Edward,
I don't know if I'll even mail this letter to you
"hut it seems like I've got AIDS.
"All the tests point to it.
"My funds are evaporating
"and the first signs of this phenolemia have hit.
"Travel seems impossible.
"Tom has gone to pieces with the news
"and I feel cut off an utterly alone accept for Ellen,
"who visits and calls."
"Dear Bobby,
"I got the horrible news from Ellen who wrote me a note.
"I've seen a lot of old friends taken ill and now you,
"the sweetest man.
"And I thought I'd run out of tears.
"I haven't.
"I'll try to get to you.
"As always, money is a problem.
"There are people here in Portland
"who are trying megavitamin therapy
"on the holistic approach.
"But Ellen indicated things in New York are scattered.
"I suppose everyone is scurrying around,
"looking for something to make it go away.
"I won't bore you but until the Federal Government
"really allocates to dollars,
"you and the rest will be left to erratically funded
"local scenes and the kindness of friends and strangers.
"A collective effort is needed but I doubt it will happen.
"Love, Edward.
"PS,
"I think my dad will give me some of the cash to visit.
"The AIDS issue finally got through to him."โ
Hi, this is Philip.
If you're calling about the room for rent,
and, yes, it's still open,
please leave your name and number 50 I can get back to you.
'I be in after 6 p.m.
and we can arrange a time for you to see it.
If you're calling for me,
I'll be at my job number till five.
206
0309.
Bye, for now.
Wait for the beep before speaking
and talk as long as you like.
- Where was this?
- This was in San Francisco at Land's End.
Edward and I were clowning around.
Oh God, what a time.
Edward borrowed one of those Kodak cameras.
You could run it on automatic.
Was that a nude beach or what?
- Not really.
Some people went nude.
And there was a lot of action in those bushes.
You could sun or fun or both.
- Robert?
Can I ask you something?
If you could be healthy,
I mean completely healthy,
for one day,
what would you do?
- No strings?
Just 24 hours, like magic?
- A day, yeah.
What would you do?
- Well, I'd be with Edward.
Not in the past, like in the movie.
But here, in New York City,
but we'd be lovers
and we'd get it one because there's no one I've ever had
who was as hot as Edward.
This, of course, is a purely personal preference.
But we'd be together.
Breakfast, shower,
then go out for a walk.
Central Park.
Okay but this is a little weird
but at an offbeat time, like at two o'clock,
'd take the People's Express and I'd fly to Washington D.C.
And I'd have a two by four and a magic marker
and a piece of cardboard
and I'd be a one man picket outside the White House.
Just a jester, you know?
Very Don Quixote.
And I'd write something on the cardboard like,
"America, AIDS is not a gay disease.
"It hurts everybody.
"Release all the money for research and care."
Then I'd go back to New York
and I'd be with Edward.
We'd have a great dinner,
hit a couple of piano bars for a few songs
and then go home and fuck our brains out.
"My Healthy Day" by Robert Willow.
Crazy, huh?
- I just wondered.
- What would you do?
- What do you mean?
- Well, you are healthy
and you've got Steve.
What would you do with the day?
- We live together.
I'm not--
- Another below the belt question?
- Yeah.
Your questions always seem to come out of left field...
To me.
Steve and I go to the movies and we visit friends.
We entertain at home.
Once and awhile we go out dancing.
We sleep together.
- Is he hot?
- Yes.
To me.
I mean, this of course is a purely personal preference.
- How hot?
What are the juicy details?
- Hot is...
Hot.
- Oh.
I know.
I just wanted to hear you say the words.
Good night, David.
Goodnight.
I left those chapter headings right on top of
the consult.
Right.
Okay?
Okay.
Government projections,
and these are the most conservative figures,
estimate that by 1988 there could be
30 thousand cases of AIDS in the United Sates alone
and if unchecked by a preventative vaccine
And/or antiviral cure, the number by 1990
might reach 100 thousand cases.
Although in America,
AIDS has struck mainly homosexual males.
The thousands of heterosexual couples in Africa
who have the illness may cruelly shortsighted
the initial perception that AIDS is a gay disease.
The growing number of cases among needle drug users,
women, children and the newly born
present the medical and governmental establishment
with the test of their ability to solve
a truly national problem with international ramifications.
The immediate threat to America's blood supply,
the plasma industry and the thousands of hemophiliacs
who depend most immediately on the purity and availability
of transfusions is forebodingly clear.
Goodnight, David.
- Goodnight, babe.
- Okay, today we're bringing you a special program.
- I hate television.
- There's a lot of good stuff on.
Don't you like TV's bloopers, bleeps and blunders?
Anyway, this isn't regular television.
It's a special installation.
- Where'd you get the VCR?
- From home.
It's mine and Steve's, we bought it last year.
It's great.
You can watch whatever you want when you want to.
- I've read the ads.
- Okay.
Here you go.
You're in to politics?
Well go for it.
Gay Day?
Uh huh.
This year?
Uh huh.
Where'd you get it?
There's this gay cable show here in Manhattan
and they do like national coverage.
I'd figure you'd like it.
Lesbians and gays coast to coast.
- Did you march?
- No, I'm not into it.
- Haven't you ever been to one?
- A few years ago I went with Steve.
It was tacky.
A freak show.
- But Gay Day is great.
Just look at all those people.
Most of the year passing for straight, then wham,
they're out!
The world has to see them, has to deal with them.
- Why should I want the world to see me?
- Well it beats hiding.
- I don't hide
but I don't have to tell everyone in all the world
everyday that I like guys.
It's my private business.
- I wasn't trying to tell you what to do.
David, I just thought that coming out
was something everyone longed for.
You know, a chance to be yourself
without worrying who's watching or what they're thinking.
- Look, Robert, I don't feel it the way you do.
'M not against the parade, I'm glad it happens.
It just doesn't have this deep of meaning for me.
- Well, to me it stands for not letting the world
say that I'm not here.
That there's only supposed to be straight people,
straight love, straight pain.
- Yeah, but why cut yourself off with the gay label?
Why separate yourself from everybody else?
- I only feel separated when I have to lie
and say that I'm straight when I'm really gay.
Do you think that if straight senators
and their straight sons had AIDS
that all that money that's being held up in Washington,
and I read this in your...
Those galley sheets you brought in,
that all that money would be taking so long to come down
to research and hospices here in New York City
with the most dead and the most cases and me,
'm just a number in a pile here in the Big Apple.
There's not even an AIDS clinic.
- Robert, take it easy.
- Here in New York City it's an epidemic
and I was lost
until that gay crisis group took me in.
No money from the state or the city.
No bucks from Washington.
But just some gay people
and their straight friends who volunteer,
like you.
- As a homosexual,
as relating to women,
sex in terms of the clothes they wear in stuff,
there's also a political feminine behind it.
I mean, I feel a victim of sexism
and I think to understand what I victimized about,
I had to understand what sex is all about.
This helps me feel androgynous or hermaphrodite.
I mean, it makes me feel like a whole person
instead of just half a person.
- So,
this parade,
this tacky, once a year freak show,
is my one chance to feel connected
because they're not all just gay people
marching in that crowd.
There's a lot of straight people,
parents and grandparents,
and in that sense,
in that moment,
then we are all just people and the gay label vanishes
because we're together
without having to deny the differences.
That's why the whole damn thing is so important to me.
Besides,
everybody oughta have a chance to make a little noise,
raise a little hell once and awhile.
God, how I hate it in here when it's quiet.
Sometimes I think this is
the quietest place in the whole world.
Some nights,
I lie here in this bed,
all I can hear
is the sound of my own blood
running around inside me.
The other night,
I masturbated.
- Well, that's good.
- It was terrible.
I jerked off.
Well, everything worked out,
I hadn't fallen apart yet.
My cock came
but I didn't.
I didn't feel it.
There's more to sex than an orgasm grabbed in the dark.
I started alone and I finished alone.
- Robert, you're under such stress.
- David,
I don't wanna die.
I wanna live.
But I don't think I'm gonna make it.
I'm never gonna get out of here.
I don't wanna die.
I started out in the buddy thing
with reservations.
I didn't even like Robert.
I almost quit.
And now I'm hopelessly lost in his world.
That room and all his dreams and hopes and memories.
I've gotten too close to him.
And my big try to be objective and to tell the truth
in this journal is a farce.
I don't know where I stand
on half the things he's been raving about.
I felt superior to him at the start.
All his old, tired ideas.
But some of what he says sounds right.
Where is the help going to come from?
The government?
Charities?
The people?
All' know is that I want Robert to live.
I wanna call some doctor up in France or Japan or Atlanta
and say, "Send some of those drugs you're trying out!
"Save Robert!
"Give him back his life!
"Let him go marching in every Gay Day parade there is.
"Let him be a gardener again.
"Just let him out of that room."
And in a flash I'm swept up in his fear of dying.
I've never thought about dying
and now I'm getting attached to a guy who is going to die.
I hate writing it.
I despise even thinking it.
Like saying it makes it so.
Like spilling out the words that Robert will die
IS me writing his death certificate.
Did he like the cable show?
Parade footage?
- We sorta had a fight over it.
You should bring him some of those porno tapes.
Less controversy.
- Actually, that's all I do most of the time
IS argue with him.
Well, that's okay, at least it's not dull.
- It's all wrong.
David, it's pretty clear you've gotten
very close to Robert.
You know, David, the only difference between
the guys you fantasize about sometimes when we have sex
and the guy I fantasize about sometimes when we have sex
is that I know the guy that you're thinking about.
- Who?
- Oh, come on.
Robert, of course.
- And what do you fantasize about?
- Well, if you're very good and step into the shower
I may tell you.
- I remember when this came out.
It was years ago.
You seen it?
- A few times, at home, with Steve.
- Why'd you pick it?
- Because it's about San Francisco.
I thought you'd enjoy t.
If you want, I could always take it home
and bring back "The Boys of Baltimore."
- This is fine.
Although, it's weird having you here.
I'll leave if you want.
- No, stay.
You can explain the parts that I don't understand.
- So, you admit there are some things about gay life
that you don't understand.
Yeah, come on Davy, come on.
Yeah.
65.
Good.
66.
- How am I doing?
- Great, 67.
Right, champ.
68.
- Look, wide open.
- Shut up.
69.
Breathe with it, come on.
70, yeah.
- Did anyone ever tell you
that you have beautiful...
eyes.
- Yeah, 71.
Ever since I got muscles when I was 15.
72.
Good.
73.
I also have a lovely personality, you know?
74.
Last one, come on, yeah.
75.
So how is he doing?
You seem in great spirits.
- He's on new pills.
It's crazy.
But I think Robert's IR
He seems a lot better.
I mean, who knows,
but he looks like he could hold his own
and slide through the summer.
Hello?
Is this David Bennett?
- Yes.
I'm Silvia Douglas with the Long Island Chronical.
- What can I do for you?
Well, I wanna do an article about your work.
You know, your experience being a buddy.
- You what?
Ideally, an interview R RN}
with you about that AIDS problem.
You know, what you do as a buddy,
I wanna know about your clients, stuff like that.
- Listen, how did you get my name and number?
I don't wanna give you an interview.
What I'm doing is private, it's a personal thing,
and I don't wanna help you sell papers
with the pain of a guy who I--
Listen, we've been trying to publish
the most accurate information we can about AIDS.
- Look, Miss Douglas,
I don't wanna be abrupt,
but I'm gonna hang up with some civility right now
and I wish you wouldn't call me up again.
Goodbye.
An article in a newspaper.
An interview.
It's ghoulish.
Why?
- Because you're sick and your pain belongs to you.
It's not something to sell newspapers with.
It's like those TEAD reporters at fires asking mothers
what they feel with a burnt kid in their arms.
- I think you should do it.
You can use my name.
- Robert, I don't wanna do it.
- You don't have to use your own name.
Nobody would know.
- Is that it?
You think I'm hiding,
that I'm ashamed to say in public, in print.
- No, David.
I just thought it might help someone.
You never know who reads those things.
It's like your aids book.
It'll help.
It has to.
- You never stop, do you?
- Look, David,
I know I'm losing it.
I can barely remember half the things I wanna say
but I'm thinking clearly now
and I think you oughta do t.
- For gay lib?
- No.
Do it for me.
- Always below the belt.
There's never been anyone like you.
- You can use one of my old pictures.
The one at the beach.
- So how's it gonna help?
Tell me.
- I don't know exactly.
Maybe somebody reads it and becomes more careful sexually.
That knocks down their chances of getting it.
Or somebody reads it
and sends money to one of those gay centers.
Or they get angry and they write letter to the mayor
and asks why more isn't being done.
- You're hopeless.
You haven't learned a thing.
You're still back there preaching on your soup box,
thinking that you can change the world.
- I can't change anything, David.
I can barely make it to the toilet.
- Do you wanna write down what I should say?
I mean, if I'm gonna do this thing,
I want it to be absolutely politically correct.
- No.
Just be honest.
Just tell the truth.
- So you want some more cassettes?
Steve bought some more cassettes yesterday.
- Well, an orderly came in yesterday.
Caught me watching "The Bigger The Betterโ
and it looks like my VCR
and my growing stash of X-rated classics
has to go.
- Can they do that?
- It's already done.
- Well I'll talk to them.
- No.
Don't.
At this point,
it's best I appear to be the most cooperative patient.
I don't wanna wear out my welcome.
- What?
- Thanks for agreeing to do the interview.
- What's a buddy for anyway?
I never used to use these
but frankly it gets everything
so I don't have to take notes.
Okay, Dave, just begin at the beginning
and try to tell me about being a buddy.
You know, how you got into it.
Why you got into it, what it's like, what he's like.
And I guess we could start with his name.
- His name...
Is Robert Willow.
He's 32.
He was born in San Diego.
I was assigned to him by chance.
I mean,
I volunteered
and we got put in with each other by the center.
Robert's had AIDS for a year
and we've been buddies for three months.
Hello?
David, I went to the news stand this morning.
I was the first one there, I bought five copies.
David, it's beautiful.
I read it to your dad this morning.
- Mom, it's seven o'clock.
I never knew you could say things
like you did in that article.
Robert seems like a wonderful man.
- He is, mom.
Did they use the picture?
You haven't seen it?
- Mom, I just woke up.
It's a full page
with a picture of Robert at the beach.
He is so handsome.
He is so handsome.
Wait, I have it right here.
"People have to feel the pain and anguish
"like it was happening to them
"SO when a person comes down with AIDS
"we are all taken a little sick.
"Straight or gay, it doesn't matter."
And the middle part, that's my favorite.
Where you said, here it is, here.
"In the beginning, I thought being a buddy
"was a way for me to help Robert
"and now I know that he helps me to feel and grow
"faith, even death."
David, I am so proud of you.
- Ma, do they print the name of the center?
Yes and a box at the end with the address
for people to send money.
There's one part I didn't completely understand.
- I don't remember what I said.
You said, "God has not sent AIDS down
"to punish people gay and straight who are sick
"because if God did that, then God wouldn't be God."
What did you mean?
- It's early, mom,
I didn't think the interview would print that.
It something that Robert says.
That a lot of people imagine that God is just like they are.
You know, a big copy of themselves.
Well, Robert says that a cruel God aint no God at all.
Well, philosophy aside,
it's still a wonderful article
and you should go out and get copies for Steve
and take one over to Robert.
It'll make his day.
- Okay, mom.
Thanks for the call.
You and Steve are coming for dinner next Sunday.
You sister's gonna be here.
- Right, Sunday at five, we'll be there.
Bye, bye.
Goodbye, dear.
Dr. Weinstein to ER.
Dr. Weinstein to ER.
EKG to ER.
EKG to ER.
Dr. Dilman, please call extension 451.
Dr. Dilman, extension 451.
Dr. Dilman, please call extension 451.
Dr. Dilman, 451.
Mr. Bennett,
'm sorry you had to find out this way.
Robert died early this morning in his sleep.
About 4:30.
It didn't get on the computer yet
and there's a new girl on the front desk
and she didn't recognize you.
'I be out at the front desk if you need me.
Stay as long as you like.
David?
- Yeah, Steve.
I know.
The center just called.
- The center?
Well the hospital called them.
They called here.
Everyone's been just missing you.
Where are you?
You okay?
- I'm near the park.
I'm okay.
No, I'm not okay.
Come on home.
- [I be in later tonight.
David, you did all you could.
- I know, Steve.
It just hurts.
I love him.
I didn't get a chance to say goodbye.
I miss him.
I know.
Come on home.
- I'll be in by seven o'clock tonight, okay?
Okay, I'll see you then.
And call the center.
They sounded pretty set on you calling in.
- Right.
Bye.
Lynn Alison speaking.
- Hi, Lynn, it's David.
David, they told me.
The hospital called.
What a terrible way to find out.
Come on over, we should talk.
- I'll be in by 10 o'clock tomorrow morning, okay?
Are you thinking of dropping out of the program?
- Lynn, don't ask me any Questions right now
about being a buddy or the program.
'M just gonna have to handle this.
There's something that I have to do.
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