San Francisco Sentinel
October 25, 1990
Street Talk
By Doris Fish
‘So Long For Now’
Not a word. Sometimes I sit here for an hour and nothing happens. But I bless the cosmos for this wonderful chance to enlighten and annoy my friends and fellow readers.
This week marks the completion of one year of typing practice for the Sentinel. I promised myself I would go for at least a year as good discipline. At first I volunteered to do ‘a piece’ once a month which seemed like an easy assignment but I quickly realized that being wonderfully clever even just once a month was not a sure thing, but if I did ‘a piece’ each week I had a much better chance.
Being clever isn’t everything; getting it done on time is more important. Meeting both requirements has been a challenge. Unfortunately that challenge has begun to overwhelm me.
It’s no secret that my health has deteriorated. When I can, I spend every waking moment sleeping and I joke with my now clean-and-sober friends that I, who once eschewed even aspirin, am now a dedicated pill-popper with a bevy of painkillers for all occasions.
Being a minor celebrity, I know you’re all dying to have every detail of my condition exposed and you might as well have it from the horse’s mouth. I have a few ‘popular’ problems like KS and T-cells of 75 (on a good day) but I also have ‘non-specific ulceration’ of the esophagus which seems to defy all treatment so far, hence the pain-killers. My doctor assures me I’m not dying (yet) so I shall continue to seek relief. I often envy the ones who died quickly – those we hear about who don’t even know they have AIDS then a very sudden illness and it’s over.
We each have our own schedule and it’s pointless to compare and envy others’ destinies. Often I do find myself thankful that my problems are my own when I hear of other worse scenarios.
I thought that I should always wish to live in the spotlight and do love attention, but I now wish to shun that glare and concentrate on finding that inner glow to keep me warm. What I would really love is a few days on the beach in Tahiti! I may not get to lounge by the shores of that tropical paradise but next month I shall be departing for that not-quite-so-tropical isle, Australia.
It’s been a great year for me in terms of communicating my frustrations and fun times to you, fellow readers. I feel I’ve said about all I can on my favorite subjects and would hate to see myself spend the next year merely repeating myself.
Animal rights has been my number one concern and it thrills me to think that I’ve encouraged others to share this concern. It’s taken a long time for the rights of our little brothers and sisters to even be considered and I realize there’s still a long struggle ahead but the fact that it’s a subject of debate fills me with hope. Remember that we cannot really be free while others less fortunate are being exploited.
(While we’re on the subject of animals, perhaps some kind readers could assist in finding homes for one or all of my dear four cats — all neutered and vaccinated and deflea-ed! Please call and leave a message at 824-xxxx.
My other favorite subjects have been parties and bad-mouthing Miss X. But soirées have lost their appeal for me, avoiding the cigarettes and resisting the lovely but, for me, maybe lethal hors d’oeuvres can be a strain, not to mention the ordeal of seeing Miss X play a drunkard. She doesn’t actually drink but loves to pretend she’s had a few too many then behaves badly and starts to sing! But she’s been such a saint lately that I can’t bring myself to dish the bitch.
In fact she helped to organize a wonderful send-off/tribute for little me with a cast of all my fellow performers from many great shows. I hope you can all come, Saturday November 3 at 8pm at the Victoria Theatre on 16th Street.
So this is goodbye and it’s hard to say it because you’ve all been so sweet to me. I’ll miss you.
The Sentinel is deeply saddened that we are losing Doris as a writer (we hope never to lose her as a friend). There is no one like her and replacing her will be impossible. We’ll miss her charm, her wit, and especially her photos. Maybe if we’re lucky she’ll send word of her exploits Down Under. Doris, remember, we love you.
