I have a friend who is going to die shortly. I know this not because of his diagnosis or some prescience on my part. I know it because in light of his diagnosis he has made the choice to end his life using the California EOLOA – the California End of Life Option Act – which puts him in control of the day and the time that his life will end.
He is comfortable at the moment, as comfortable as one can be with Stage 4 terminal cancer of the bladder. Hospice helps him manage the pain while his independent care manager runs interference with everything from practical matters like ordering and delivery of medical equipment and supplies (hospital bed, tray table, and continence items) to coordinating the visits of friends and loved ones.
One of his visitors was me last Sunday. We’ve known each other for over 20 years. We met, socially, at a bar called The Bullet in Los Angeles where he had the title of “Queen Mother.” He retired to Palm Springs in his 60s; and when I made the decision to retire here in my 40s, that decision was made easier because I would “know” someone locally. In fact, not two days after I arrived in town, he came by my house, loaded me and my wheelchair up in his car, and took me to lunch at Rick’s, a popular café amongst gay men. As a proud native Angeleno, now transplanted to the desert, I of course ordered the French dip.
Our friendship blossomed from that day on. He introduced me to many of his friends, and because the LGBTQ+ community is a family of affinity, they not only welcomed me but made me feel at ease and at home. As gay men, we each have a story of discrimination, of isolation, and of feeling untethered from family and/or society, which is why I think we are, on the whole, so welcoming and inclusive. We have turned what was most negative and hurtful in our lives into our greatest strength – solidarity.
During our visit, we relived old memories – like the time our friend Evan won the Halloween Costume Contest at the Zoso Hotel and he turned to me and said, “that bitch wore the same tired old dress for last year’s contest!” – and I filled him in on the latest dining room gossip. He joined me here at Stonewall Gardens two years ago, but it was he who first found the place and suggested I leave the little, old, Mahjong-playing ladies and breeders where I had been living and call Stonewall my home. It was Gay Pride, November 2014; after a day of parades, lesbian arts and crafts booths, and overpriced, watered-down beer, he said, “let’s go check out that new gay assisted living place on North Palm Canyon for Matthew” – so he, our friend Miss Jimmy, and I showed up and toured Stonewall Gardens before it had even been licensed by the State of California as an RCFE (Residential Care Facility for the Elderly); I moved in a year later, and my friend, in a poetic mirroring of how I had “followed” him to the desert, joined me at Stonewall eight years later.
My friend’s name, I am proud to say, is Richard Bass. Richard has been an organizer and leader in the LGBTQ+ community for many years. In Los Angeles, he founded UGLA, the Uptown Gay and Lesbian Alliance, following the hate-motivated murder of a young gay man leaving The Bon Mot bar, at Avenue 41 and Figueroa Street, to provide visibility as well as safety and support systems for LGBTQ+ individuals. In retirement, here in the desert, he founded “PALS” in the Desert, Planning Ahead for LGBTQ+ Seniors, to guide our elderly and aging population in everything from estate planning to navigating the healthcare system. And more recently, his magnum opus, TCM, Triangle Care Management, that aims to, “create a personalized path to care that prioritizes comfort, safety, and dignity—without financial barriers,” again focused like a laser beam on the LGBTQ+ community.
Richard would spend his weekends, and not a few weekdays, attending seminars, gathering information, and making introductions – connecting people with resources and demanding, in his sometimes annoying way, that the LGBTQ+ community and its needs be taken seriously. In that pursuit, he was tireless.
I remember this one time. It was Easter, and a local couple, Roman and Joey, opened their home to gay men without a partner or family nearby to spend the holiday with. Joey, of Latino/Mexican descent, made the most delicious Chile Verde – a non-traditional Easter repast for a non-traditional gathering. Richard invited me along as his guest. As we gathered around the table in Roman and Joey’s beautiful Palm Desert home, people shared what was going on in their lives. When we turned our attention to Richard, he told us he’d joined a “storytellers’ group” which sought to preserve and honor our histories as gay men.
Just then, one of the men at table threw his flatware down and it clanked on his half-eaten plate of Mexican deliciousness. He exclaimed, “oh great!…something else Richard is doing to make the rest of us look lazy and like we’re not doing enough for the gay community.”
I recalled that story last Sunday during my visit with Richard. We laughed. But it’s true. In retirement, while I’m worrying about my Hibiscus plant that got infected with a fungus, Richard would be out trying to raise money to provide housing and care to low-income LGBTQ+ seniors.
Very few people touch our lives and make them better. And those that do generally do so in subtle, almost intangible ways. As a friend and as an LGBTQ+ role model of pride, community spirit, and other-focused altruism, ‘subtle’ is not a word one would use to describe Richard. I think a more suitable word would be ‘icon.’ Richard is what every gay man should aspire to be: proud to be gay, embracing of all the identities in our community, focused on protecting, defending, preserving, and advancing the goals of that community, and generally enjoyable and engaging to be around.
Richard’s life will end shortly. When it does, it will be his decision and on his terms. I am grateful I got to spend an hour with him last Sunday. There were some tears. But he is at peace. And I am grateful I got to spend the last eighteen years with him here in the desert as his friend. My life is better for it.