"And the Band Plays On"; leading a life marked by a high degree of emotional detachment that may protect but may not nourish; "Seeks resolution to the desire to be understood and wanted."

When I sat down with my turkey and swiss sandwich this evening, I turned on the TV and caught the last ten minutes of "And The Band Played On." It was a retrospective of "famous" individuals known to have died of AIDS or known to have AIDS at the time of the completion of the film in '96. Although I've seen "Band" before, I don't remember that segment. Or maybe it has been added since the original screening.

Sir Elton sings as stills of personalities go by: Liberace, Freddy Mercury, Hudson, Arthur Ashe, Max Robinson, Amanda Blake, Robert Reed, Ryan White. There were many who looked familiar but to whom I could not attach a name. Within a few minutes I was in tears. I'd don't remember when I last had thought of "Band," or the visceral punch it gave me when I first saw it.

Occasionally I think of the people I knew from ten or fifteen years ago. And I quickly realize that many of them are no longer here. But I don't know what to feel. It may be that I've used time and space as barriers for my own preservation. Now I lead a life marked by a high degree of emotional detachment that may protect but may not nourish.

Many of the journals I read appear to deal with variations of this predicament. A person wants and seeks some type of relationship. Seeks resolution to the desire to be understood and wanted.

PAX!