A play in nyc wittily explores the emotional toll on hiv plague-era survivors – resource center on aging with hiv – thebody.com electricity cost calculator

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If that sounds like a Bette Davis zinger from All About Eve, think again. It’s actually just one of many hilariously bitchy lines from Still at Risk, a two-act play by 1980s/90s AIDS-era veteran Tim Pinckney that’s at New York City’s Theater for the New City right now until March 31. But as full of shady one-liners and parting shots as the play is, it’s also a warmly moving story about a trio of forty- and fifty-something queer friends, former activists, and caregivers waking up to the antiretroviral era in very early 21st-century New York … and realizing that a new generation of queers is already half-oblivious to all the pain they went through and everything they fought for.

At the center of the play is Kevin (played with scruffy, cantankerous gas leak los angeles california gusto by Robert Gomes), a one-time actor who’s now an existentially stuck cater-waiter. A former ACT UP member and safe-sex instructor, he’s infuriated at how AIDS Inc. has turned its back on Eric, his former boyfriend, a passionate but polarizing, Larry Kramer-like activist who died of AIDS more than a decade before.

Completing the friendship triangle are Marcus (Jonathan Walker), a tart actor living comfortably off residuals from his hit sitcom and former caregiver who sat out street activism, and Susan (Amy Hohn), a warmly sassy former b games 2 shaven-headed ACT UP lesbian now married to a man and raising a child but still freelance-reporting on the LGBT community. In their effort to honor Eric’s problematic memory, the three of them spar with Byron (Ryan Spahn), the hilariously self-important, cocky, younger guppie now in charge of fundraising and events, including a star-studded heroes tribute gala, for a large nonprofit obviously based on GMHC.

The play is as funny as it is moving, speaking to the trauma, loss, and anger of those who survived the plague’s worst years. (Sitting to my left was a gentleman seemingly in his fifties or sixties who cried as much as he laughed.) We caught up with playwright Pinckney, a — surprise! — former actor and safe-sex educator whose day job is producing events for The Actors Fund, about what inspired Still at Risk (which played in San Francisco last year) and why he thinks it’s important to laugh amid grief electricity dance moms episode.

Tim Pinckney: Well, Byron says a lot of things I sometimes wish I could say. But he’s actually an amalgamation of several people I’ve met over the years. The idea that he has a well-paying job but still thinks he’s giving back to the community because he could be making more money if he weren’t working at a charity — someone actually said that to me once, and I thought my head was going to blow off.

TP: When I stopped acting and started taking care of David, I started working full time at GMHC electricity youtube billy elliot as an intake clinician. At that time, they had a lot of really intense classes about experimental drugs and other things. I went from knowing nothing about AIDS to quite a bit, then I started teaching safer sex workshops. This was during the second wave of AIDS deaths, in the early 90s, when I lost most of my friends. But it also represents the most important part of my life, because, as horrible, difficult, and challenging as that time was, I felt like I was the best version of myself — the bravest and most outspoken I’ve ever been.

I started this play in the early 2000s because I wanted to write something that captured my feeling of frustration that everything that had happened was already being forgotten. It’s important for us to remember how we came together and took care of one another and ourselves. I remember my first safe sex workshop. It was gay men from all different parts of gay culture: hardcore leather men, drag queens, feminine men, butch men. We were all in a room together because we wanted to be able to enjoy hot, creative sex but stay alive and take care of ourselves. It’s important for us to remember that.

TP: Right, it’s set somewhere between 2002 and 2005. I lost a couple good friends in the early 2000s from AIDS, even despite the new drugs. We were seeing a lot of crystal meth suddenly, and people making stupid choices. People felt like they had been vigilant long enough and started to get careless. And you didn’t see as much prevention messaging on buses, et cetera, and there was a big uptick in new infections, especially in young kids.

TP: I’m a creature of Turner Movie Classics electricity worksheets ks1. I love, love, love late thirties and early forties comedies like The Philadelphia Story or Holiday or The Lady Eve, where because of the Hollywood morality codes, they couldn’t come out and say exactly what things meant, so instead you have a guy putting a shoe on Barbara Stanwyck and it’s so sexy, with smart, clipped dialogue. I’m also very influenced by the plays of Lanford Wilson, who wrote people who I recognized, including gay characters, and of course by Terrence 76 gas station jobs McNally, too.

TP: I don’t know that I’m qualified to answer that. It’s not the center of my world anymore like it once was. My younger friends are on pre-exposure prophylaxis (PrEP), and I’m glad they’re doing something to take care of themselves. If we’d had PrEP when I was growing up, I’d be eating it like MMs, but I’m sure I would be using condoms or other protection too, because we grew up in this era when we didn’t trust anything. It’s so important to remember how quickly out of control this got. You would have assumed that if a population in this country was dying, the government would step up, but that wasn’t true. And it’s important to remember that, especially in this time period with the language coming out of the White House electricity in salt water and the people who support that dangerous criminal in there. I really do believe that what happened could easily happen again. We have to be vigilant.

Tim Murphy has been living with HIV since 2000 and writing about HIV activism, science and treatment since 1994. He writes for and has been a staffer at POZ , and writes for the New York Times, New York Magazine, Out Magazine, The Advocate, Details and many other publications. He is also the author of the NYC AIDS-era novel Christodora and the forthcoming novel Correspondents (May 2019).