"Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

Dylan Thomas

Dark Clouds Gathering /1981

Ed and I had just returned from the International Mr. Leather Contest in Chicago (a good friend had taken us there to celebrate our first anniversary,) when I started experiencing severe pain and discharge from my butt. We both thought it was an STD from all the sex that we had when we were in the big city (it wasn't.) Ed took me over to a new gay clinic that had opened in a hotel on Woodward, in detroit.

I sat there on a folding chair, filling out the forms that they needed. One of the forms asked if I had visited any major cities in the last year (including Chicago.) I checked the box and thought nothing of it.

Finally my name was called and hot nurse escorted me in the bathroom, took a couple of swabs from me and told not to worry it was probably the drip (, which at the time was easily cured with a few pills.) I mean come on; it was 1981 and everything was easily cured. I was taken to another room where the Doctor waited for me with his clip board held up to his chest like a shield. I'm going to be your Doctor,” He said, as I settled into the cold metal chair in the bedroom of the hotel room. I couldn't figure out why, but the guy was fidgeting a lot and looked a little terror stricken to me. What could his problem be?

"Hey Buddy, how's it going?" I asked him in as friendly a voice as I could muster. I wanted to put him at ease, I like Doctors.

"Um' fine I guess. I can see that you visited Chicago a few weeks ago." the Doctor said..

"Yeah we had a great time there, fun town." I told him still trying to buddy up with him.

"We've got a problem here. Don't get freaked (me freaked, he's the one that looked freaked,) but there is this thing going around in big cities," he told me. "It appears that somehow gays in the big cities are getting sick from cancer and phenomena. They call it G.R.I.D. for short, Gay Related Immunity Disorder. We are suggesting to anyone who has visited one of the cities move there. You know, to keep everybody here safe." What the fuck was going on here, I had never heard of such a thing before.

"What do you mean man, you can’t be serious. I can’t just move to Chicago. All my family and friends are here and I think your nuts." I challenged the doctor.

"The stuff is very dangerous. We don't know if it’s caused by poppers or maybe even semen attacking your insides. Just think about it, you know to help your friends. It’s the least you can do for the cause. In any case, have a nice day." He said as he ran out of the room.

When we got back to the car I told Ed about the bizarre conversation. He didn't think much of it, but thought that moving to Chicago was a great idea and it started to sound real good to me too. "We'll see." was my only comment about it. I took the pills the nurse had given me and soon we were drinking and having a good time at Menjos (a queer bar in Palmer Park.) Nothing about this strange malady was said, but I could feel some very dark clouds on the horizon.