A Corner, Turned...

My sojourn in Australia lasted for 220 days.

As of today, I have been back in the US for nearly that long; 214 days.

Since returning, I’ve lived with felines and canines, slept on sofas, cushions, blow-up mattresses and futons, in guest beds and master bedrooms and very nearly on the subway. 

I’ve experienced my life refined to the most important of essentials; food and shelter. I’m fortunate to not have had to resort to actual homeless shelters, due to what has become a prolific, successive materialization of practical support from many unexpected quarters.

People from my life past -- people whom I had liked though truly hardly knew -- have reached out to me with offers of shelter and leads for jobs and have given me nurturing support that I had not expected, at all. They have kept their eye on me to be sure I didn’t lose heart and give up. These wonderful individuals have reached out with heartfelt words of encouragement during a very dark time for me...telling me that they have drawn inspiration and support from my own life and work in the past and articulated a value I might have on this planet that I have not always perceived. 

These words and actions have helped me to carry myself through this.

Other friends, longtime friends, have simply and silently disappeared...or not appeared, at all. To me, it is as though these former confidantes fear I might infect them with my own perceived Failure...or something. Truly, I have no idea why some of those with whom I’d been very close before leaving for Australia have simply stayed away since my return. Beyond being disconcerting, the absence of some of those whom I’d trusted so implicitly as friends at a time when friends were most needed seriously undermined my efforts to ground myself and maintain some sort of steadiness as I rebuilt.

On the one hand, this has forced me to rely only on myself; accepting anything positive that has come my way as Gift. 

On the other, though; the true lesson has been in candor, in actually giving voice to what is needed and asking for specific help so that what is needed is known...and in realizing that No Man Is An Island, we’re here together to help one another.

There is no room in my wardrobe for the mantle of victimhood.

One friend has offered that my pathway through these past months (or years) has been shaman-esque in the quality of exploration and the sometimes seemingly relentless encounters with difficulty and obstacle as I have explored the rebuilding of a life.

I can say that the experience at The Apple Store has been revelatory to me in myriad ways. Talk about “parachuting” into an alien situation and making it work: working in retail was equally as foreign to me as was traveling 12,000 miles to a country of cowboys… 

I succeeded at Apple. Having paid no attention to the metrics and numbers of my work, and only doing what comes naturally; I was a tad surprised to learn, just this week, that out of the 300+ employees at Apple SoHo, I have been in the top 5% for the quarter! Who knew?!

When the manager who shared this little tidbit of data with me saw my surprise, he said, “...well, Kile, you talk to a LOT of people…!” 

I do not believe that “everything happens for a reason.” I do believe that we can find reason, lesson, enlightenment and value in nearly everything that does happen. Life is so much chance and circumstance; it is up to us to embrace what comes and weave the lessons into our lives...possibly even to help others.

I made a huge error in judgement in trusting the Australian Handshake that took me to Melbourne. I shelved an entire life and took a leap of trust and faith....

Would I do it again? Probably not. Do I regret what I did? I don’t.

Though it was an extremely dark time, it was interwoven and enhanced -- graced --  by encounters with some wonderful people with whom I remain in touch to this day and may even see - or work with - again. The wonderful, caring community at The Vitality Clinic; Sam, Kath & Emily were an oasis of succor and revitalization and remain indelible in my heart. Kristin and Ateesha at Ministry of Dance; poised professionalism, personified...and beautiful, t’boot. Magdy, sharing his family and his church with me. Judi, the best representative New Zealand might boast. The wacky - though, not wacko - Pollock family...and, of course, the divine Christopher Vine; who opened his heart and home and shared his beautiful family. These people are Australia for me.

Since returning, my life has continued its shakedown. While many old friends have remained away, so many more have shown themselves to care and to reach out and simply stay in touch...sharing what made our shared lives and experiences so special and what remains to give resonance to re-experiencing one another again, now.

The fresh aliveness I have found among the young people at Apple has been regenerative, revelatory, and fantastically fruitful. These kids (and they are kids, what can I tellya?) are smart, motivated, aspirational and inspirational. Disparate, they gather from cities and suburbs of Florida to California, from Brooklyn to Biloxi, Harlem to Hawaii; universally seeking to make something of themselves, to realize a set of dreams, goals, visions of their individual futures. Afraid of failure when they haven’t achieved a set of ambitions by the time the 25th year is reached; their candid fears and protected hopes make them sheer pleasure to be around.

Becoming a part of that micro-community has been one of the best things I’ve done; my own evolution from That New (old) Guy to whatever stature I seem now to enjoy has been an accomplishment of which I’m proud. As word has begun to creep out that I am leaving Apple, the startled dismay that these young men and women have expressed has been something I did not expect and something I do not take lightly.

Widened eyes well with tears as a young man or woman says, “You’re leaving?!”  This tells me that I have made a difference, that I do make a difference...still, yet, and ongoingly. I cherish that quality and have been greatly humbled at the experience that Apple has offered and has clarified for me.

When I broke the news to the manager and told him that I was leaving, without hesitation he told me that the door will always be open for me...as long as he has a job at Apple, I will be welcome there. In only four months, that is not something taken lightly; and I am honored by that.

Why am I leaving Apple?

Well, as a matter of fact, this week, I received an offer from Amnesty International for the position of Executive Producer of All Things 50th in the US for that organization’s 50th Anniversary Year...that being next year; 2011. 

Yes, Ladies and Gentlemen, Kile Ozier has a job. 

Not just a job, but a position with a scope that I believe is perfect for me at this prestigious, iconic global agency with the readily embraceable Mission of Human Rights for All.

I start, Monday.

Untitled

Sunday Morning
Upper West Side.
Fourth floor walkup
Here, I abide.
Pigeons screwing
Out on the ledge,
I'm still living
Here, on the Edge.

Three more days,
then who knows
where my pathway
onward goes.
Down to chelsea
Possibly,
To the east side?
We shall see...

Rain is pouring
Out of the sky.
Weather like this
Makes my heart fly.
Back at home, it's
Like this, all year;
Misty beaches
Call to my ear.

In this city to
Which I've committed
I've yet to see whether
I can be fitted.
Outreach goes out, yet
Little comes in,
Jobs that call out to me
Don't call me in.

I'm here and stayin'
Said that I would
Day out and Day in
Makin' it good.
Off in the distance
Hear some faint rumblings,
Thus I am hoping
This Dark soon be crumbling.

No further reportage
Made at this time,
'Til there be something
A bit more sublime...

KO

Gimme That Damn Envelope...!

On this day in 1980, I gave an Oscar Party in San Francisco; then, my new home. I hadn't yet lived in SF for a year, though had already met and made some wonderful friends; many of whom - those still living - remain a part of my life, today.

I rented a suite at the Bedford Arms on Post Street, borrowed twelve television sets, asked a friend of mine who worked for Durkee to donate samples of their toaster-oven hors d'oeuvre, bought some champagne, invited all 30 of the people I knew in the City and gave my first Oscar Party. I didn't know it was a "first" at the time; but lo, it turned out to be a monster-in-the-making.

Television sets were positioned everywhere such that, no matter where one was standing or sitting, at least one screen was easily visible. There were even two in the bathroom; one on the back of the john and one facing it so that, sitting or standing, not a moment of the broadcast would be missed. The mixed crowd of friends, each dressed in black-tie or the equivalent, toasted the winners and became a little toasted, ourselves, and had a ball...

It grew. The next year, there were about 60 people; the next, over 100. In the interim, my Lover, Don, and I had split: the way I like to put it, "...he took the crystal, I took the party..." And, the party grew exponentially, each year, rapidly becoming too large for me to finance it, myself; thus an iconic fundraiser was born.

Breaking the paradigm of the traditional Oscar Party, there was food everywhere, screens everywhere, sound everywhere (even tucked into the food stations), and far fewer seats than guests, creating a comfortable, kinetic dynamic and flow. For those who need to see every moment of the show, there were quiet corners with dedicated monitors and food close at hand; for those who wanted to chat and catch the Big Moments, there was the rest of the space in which to move and chat and nosh and never actually be out of range of the view or the sound.

In order to give full integrity to each ticket price or contribution, 100% of the expenses were underwritten so that, even were only one ticket sold, the entire cost of that ticket would go to the selected charity or charities. Many tickets were sold, though, many of them; and comps were very, very rare...

And, it grew. From 100 to 300 to over 500 to 1000 and beyond; a classic, San Francisco crowd. Eclectically-dressed in black-tie or black-tie adjacent, always glamourous, straight, gay, in-between; from the most glittering of drag queens to the most beautiful of women to the endless smiles of men in tuxes or -- as the dancing began -- sometimes out of them...a quintessential, post-modern San Francisco crowd.

Something about this thing having originated from an actual group of friends seems to have continued to permeate the energy of the experience at what is now called Academy of Friends. One can go to this party, alone, and be greeted as warmly as though s/he had been coming to the event for years. It is the most welcoming of large-scale events, and many people even now plan to meet one another on The Night, annually, as part of the experience.

Originally, part of the mystique was the fact that each year the event would unfold in a different location, a new venue, sometimes being the first event to take place in a new atrium or hotel. From the rotunda of City Hall to the hottest of SoMa NightSpots to the august marble halls of the Federal Reserve Bank, this specific manifestation of San Francisco Oscar Glamour has traveled the city; though now, there are very few spaces large enough to hold and host the magic of this evening.

Early on, to help me organize and produce, I asked a few of my friends from various aspects of the event and entertainment industries in San Francisco to join me, as a "Committee," promising only three meetings a year; a promise that lasted....one year.

Rapidly, the experience and mission -- and need -- grew to the extent that Committee became Board and event become non-profit and three meetings a year became monthly Board meetings with subcommittees and homework. Key, through all of this, has been the hands-on nature of the members of the Board. There is no pointing to work and specifying, there is only Doing.

...and Doing. These Board members work their Oscars off.

There truly is no other event like this one. Born out of a confluence of circumstance, epidemic, creativity and the evolution of a suppressed and besieged population becoming enlightened to the power of the multiplied, small contribution; this Oscar Party is a benchmark in shared experience, successful fundraising, camp and glamour.

I remember announcing in the rotunda of City Hall, back in the '80's, the groundbreaking figure of $35,000.00 raised in one evening and hearing the surprised crowd go wild in appreciation of what was at the time such a huge and nearly unimaginable figure...right before we all sang "Happy Birthday" to Mayor Agnos' wife, Sherry, in a rousing chorus that was led by Nancy Pelosi.

Now entering its 30th year, Academy of Friends raises millions of dollars, annually, for AIDS direct care and educational programs, "...where the need is greatest at the time..." With a Board of Directors well into its seventh or eighth generation, the spirit of those original Friends and Committee Members lives on in the work and in the results...and very much in the Spirit.

It's quite a phenomenon, this organization, and the annual Oscar Gala is now the flagship in an armada of ongoing efforts to keep educating and enlightening and caring for those who need or can benefit from the work of small agencies that form the web of support for the myriad needs of a community that remains at siege by an insidious virus and the concomitant fears of an often myopic public.

At the center of it all is this Annual Gala; a fantastic experience like no other. If you are in or near San Francisco, go! If not, make plans to go next year. I can only say that, in my experience, no one attends the Annual Academy of Friends Gala only once.

What else does one need to know?