54 Scene
STUFF & THINGS
HOMELY HOMILY
Putting It Out There
No Shame
) Every so often the concept of death springs to mind. There’s an upbeat opening line for you! It happens relatively regularly. I’m wandering along, minding my own business, usually heading to work and I ponder what it’ll be like when my parents die and whether I’ll be able to cope. What’ll I do without them to guide and help me through things? I also think about my own death and whether I’ll be on my own when it happens as I don’t have a partner or children, so I ponder whether it’ll be days or weeks before I’m found. You know, cheerful stuff like that! Really starts the day off with a bang. Sometimes the thoughts go away without any problem, sometimes they stick.
) Brighton in 1986. Me, a tourist, checking out the Sunday night club, the Pink Coconut, with my mate Trevor. When the club had shut, I followed my nose to the nearest cruising spot in town and quickly became acquainted with a guy called Graham (Bona Clone to his friends). He was everything I had fancied – big moustache, leather chaps, 501s leather jacket, bottle of poppers and a cheeky smile.
BY JON TAYLOR
“The worst thing you can do is nothing. Don’t over think and wallow. It gets us nowhere. In the immortal words of our Eurovision entry from 2016, Joe & Jake – ‘You’re not alone, we’re in this together’” It’s part and parcel of life, I guess, but for me it’s also mixed up in the whole anxiety/depression world that I inhabit. It goes with the territory. I find it helps my mental state enormously that when I start having these thoughts, it’s best to acknowledge them, look at them and get some outside help with them. Squirrelling the thoughts away just makes them fester and grow. The help usually comes by popping a post on social media. It helps to get the thoughts out of my head and into the more caring arms of my friends. They help by posting life-affirming and encouraging things which help clear my head and move on to thinking about other things like ‘Why does Tess Daley still not seem natural in front of camera after all these years?’.
“So, in the upcoming weeks and months, with a potentially tricky winter ahead of us, don’t hide yourself away. Don’t sit in the dark. It can be a hard thing to do, asking for help” This time of year doesn’t help either. Nights are drawing in; everything is darker; if you live alone then nights seem longer; you don’t go out as much; you spend more time on your own, and so on. Walking to work in the dark then walking home again in the dark is particularly grim. It’s very easy for the gloomy weather outside to permeate your head and turn it equally as gloomy. You’d think that after having to lockdown so many times and isolate and what have you, you’d get used to being on your own more and be accustomed to your own company. And it’s fine for a while but we are social animals, us humans, so it can be a strain. Best to do something about it. So, in the upcoming weeks and months, with a potentially tricky winter ahead of us, don’t hide yourself away. Don’t sit in the dark. It can be a hard thing to do, asking for help. Do it once though and it becomes much easier to do the second time around. I know that after I reach out for help, however I do it, everything seems much brighter and the gloom clears. The worst thing you can do is nothing. Don’t over think and wallow. It gets us nowhere. In the immortal words of our Eurovision entry from 2016, Joe & Jake – ‘You’re not alone, we’re in this together’.
BY GLENN STEVENS
I went back with Graham, had a great time and thought Brighton was the type of town where I would like to live. Within a week I was back and staying on Trevor’s floor. On one of my trips out on the town I went to the club known as Manhattan’s where I was to meet Graham once again. He worked there serving drinks from an alcove bar away, the walls were covered in pictures of ’80s style clones, Graham fitted in perfectly.
“What I'm so pleased about is through the Brighton AIDS Memorial project, Names Reading project and Hankie Quilt project is that collectively we can all remember and celebrate those we have lost to AIDS, including Graham: Bona Clone a lot of the time, Bona Moan on others, but always and forever, Lovely Graham” On Graham’s invitation, I moved from Trevor’s floor and in with him. Our relationship burnt bright and short, but a lovely connection was made between us. I’d see Graham on the scene all the time, then one day he came up to me to say he had been diagnosed HIV+. He was the first person I knew personally to tell me this; back then AIDS was still something that happened across the pond, then London and then, all too quickly, Brighton. It seems crazy that I’d not seen Graham for about six months when I bumped into him on Brighton Pier, and we had a lovely catch up. He looked great in ripped 501s and white T-shirt, same smile on his face; then a few weeks later I heard he was in hospital having succumbed to AIDS. I visited him just the once, he was unable to speak, but I am glad I had the chance to say goodbye. I was recently talking to the lovely Harry Hillery about his fantastic Instagram project, Brighton AIDS Memorial; the project where people are invited to post photos and memories of people they have known and loved who have died of AIDS. I was a little apprehensive of uploading a photo of Graham but I believe it is an honour to remember and remind others of him at his best. My reservation of publishing it is one I have gladly shaken off. Graham died from an AIDS-related illness, there is no shame in that and no stigma should be associated with it. What Harry’s project so wonderfully does is allows us to remember and celebrate the lives of those we lost to that virus. What I'm so pleased about is through the Brighton AIDS Memorial project, Names Reading project and Hankie Quilt project is that collectively we can all remember and celebrate those we have lost to AIDS, including Graham: Bona Clone a lot of the time, Bona Moan on others, but always and forever, Lovely Graham.
