Not Famous

Someone I once knew wrote a paper called The Psychology of Fame. I find myself pondering a similar question. What do they have that I don't? Most people live out their lives with no remarkable encounters with anything resembling fame, fortune or notoriety, but the more one travels and lives in cities, the greater is the chance of seeing or encountering the world of well-known others.

Moving around, I have noticed that over time I have been close to, near by, or hovering in similar circles as a variety of people we would call famous or in the vicinity of fame....close encounters. I heard a personal development study that tells us that we are likely to be only as successful as the three people who surround us most frequently.

A few close encounters that occur to me now...

President Johnson waved at me when I was twelve.

Met Jerry Garcia briefly...backstage at The Berkeley Theater in 1975 in the days before heavy security always blocked the door.

Billy Baldwin (my favorite Baldwin) stood next to me at a film preview party at The Wollman Rink in Central Park.

Saw Woody Allen and Mia Farrow walking hand-in-hand down Madison Avenue during the 80s.

Helped Caroline Kennedy locate a photo file while working in the photo library at The Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Dated the first drummer for Sonic Youth who later became a character actor after starring in the indie film Stranger Than Paradise.

Sat on stage with the sound guy during a Wash DC Patti LaBelle concert during her crazy spiky hair days.

Shared Thanksgiving dinner with the B52s at Kate's NYC apartment.

Invited to dinner at apartment of Jay Dee Doherty, drummer of Patti Smith Band.

Went to party at loft of Jim Jarmusch in NYC.

Was interviewed for a job at Tibet House by Richard Gere.

Met David Byrne at Paul Simon show in Tribeca.

Had lunch with Annie Lennox.

My friend Kathleen was commisioned by Arnold Schwartzenager to paint Maria Schriver's portrait and was also commisioned to paint a large rose painting for the designer, Valentino.

My friend, Larry, received a grammy for writing and performing Don't Bogart That Joint, anthem from movie Easy Rider.

I feel a bit like Forest Gump. These are all interesting little moments, but it doesn't quite add up. The Emily Dickinson words come to mind...
I'm nobody, who are you? An underachiever living in Buffalo, I must ask--was this a dream?

Perhaps I have simply failed to capitalize on the multitude of opportunities that came my way?

Perhaps I am simply living out my karma?

Good Medicine

We each have our own path to follow. A faithful listener to Gary Null's radio show, I take in his nutritional advice and practice as much as I can. The trouble is I'm not ready to go all the way....can't really afford all the supplements he would recommend. I'm not ready to give up coffee or wine. I eat some meat and some junk. I tend to be moderate, but his view is you have to go all the way to a clean diet.

Kris Carr is also an inspiration. Creator of the documentary film Crazy Sexy Cancer, she has also developed a wonderful online cancer community for women who embrace alternatives. They sell a t-shirt that says Make Juice Not War.

I take no pharmaceuticals for cancer treatment. I tell myself, if the myeloma returns I will do the nutrional approach all the way. I know this thinking is stupid....by then it's too late. The idea is prevention. While in the grip of disease and survival was questionable, I would tell myself "If I get better, I'll eat only the best diet." Trouble is once strength and good feeling returned, I wanted the stuff I always liked.

My diet was not especially bad before I got sick. I've never been an extremist, though. Living with a macrombiotic for two years twenty years ago was a challenge. Before I got sick, my sleep cycle was messed up from working too many overnight hours in a hospital...taking in too much of the pain of other people.

Sleep is a huge priority now.

Frequent hot baths are essential.

I do not overwork...keep life simple.

I try to get lots of C and D3.

I need to add into the receipe a bit more creative output, more service, more meditation, more intimacy, more swimming.

More sun would be ideal.



Somebody way back in time (Hippocrates?) said that each of us has our own unique illness that requires our own unique cure.

Finding the right dose of all the important ingredients is my ongoing process... subject to change just like any other medicine.

Nostalgia

I guess nostalgia is the mark of a someone with a history to reflect upon. I went to see the movie, Milk. Seeing my old neighborhood on the big screen prompted a lot of conversations and flashbacks to the 1970s in San Francisco. I notice this nostalgia turning up in other people's blogs. Jane shared her memories of 33 Linda Street, a building that I lived in when Harvey Milk was shot.

I arrived in SF October 1974 and moved into the flat at Dolores and 17th with four room mates. Lauren became my friend. She introduced me to the diaries of Anais Nin...took me to poetry readings. Then her best friend, Kerry, arrived in town after a winter in Ireland.

The next summer I met Toby and Sharon at Ruby O'Burke Pottery in Noe Valley. I introduced Toby to Lauren. When I went to live with James in Longbeach, Long Island during the winter of 1976-77, they moved into the top apartments in the Linda Street building.

James and I returned to SF the following spring and lived at Valencia and 17th for a few months until we broke up. He moved out and a few weeks later, the lower apartment #33 opened up. The lady who had lived there actually died and Toby wasted no time calling me with the landlord's phone number. When I moved out in June 1979 to head to New York, Jane moved in.

Each one of us read Jane's blog entry last week, inspiring a little cross communication about all that richness. I could keep going with all the connections. I met Mona that spring of 1977 that I returned to SF. She had moved to SF because her friend, Stanley, lived there. James and Stanley were best friends from SUNY Oswego, where I had also met them both. Mona moved to Brooklyn the year after I went to NYC....still lives in the same apartment there.

After SF and NYC, I lived in Boulder and Denver. Now I live in Buffalo.

Thanks to email, social networking and blogs, there remains a bit connection with far away friends. Living right here in the moment includes thoughts from other times and places that bleed through like layers of colored tissue paper molded together.