I have often thought that it might be fun to remember special people in a story. The people that have been wrapped around my life are probably not all that different than anybody else, but because they consume my memories, they are unique to me and thus important.

It is funny that they often visit me late at night when I am having difficulty sleeping or when I am a bit manic and sleep is not part of my night's equation. They bring comfort to me and often a smile and additional memories. It seems that over the years they remain close. I can remember an event that took place 20 years ago and it seems I can feel, smell and emotionally place myself there and it suddenly becomes the present. So many are gone now, taken from this place too many times by today's horror pandemic AIDS, and others remain and continue to play a part in memories. Who knows, perhaps in another time and place they will inspire me to continue the stories.

So many friends - some gay, some not so gay. All who are here, are here because of love. Love is one of only two true emotions. The other being fear, I have no stories for those who play in that realm; they aren't any fun anyway and I would be only complaining if I wrote about fear. Everyone has these tales, too, to dwell on them is boring and meaningless; this is about love and laughter. Life at daybreak and laughter at night.

A life is not measured by how we love, but by how much we are loved by others. I remember this simple thought being given by the famous Wizard of Oz and I believe it to be a beautiful expression of life and living. I also have to add that we cannot truly love unless we truly love ourselves. What I have found is that on a personal level, one to one, I have developed strong, close, personal relationships with a wonderful variety of people in every area of life. I love my gay friends, straight friends, transsexual friends and everyone in between. My friends of every color, shape and size, sex and every religion or belief. I love my family friends and my family of friends, my disabled friends and my very abled friends. You are all brothers and sisters; it is hard to distinguish one from another for all are just like me... people.

As I write about various people, I hope to give little examples of how each person touched not only me but the world, and how each made it a better place to live for everyone they came into contact. All of the stories are real, and for the purpose of these articles will be mixed up and matched to make certain points. My final book will take each person and develop their own personal story. I am sure as you read, you, too, will find you have your own Timmy, Kenny, Jay, Loosee, Buddy, Sarah, Madeline as they are the same everywhere. The stories are a testament to love.