The Long View: Being, in no particular order, 25 things I've bumped into along the way and have not forgotten. Yet.
He was a verb named Trip, a gifted ballet dancer. So gifted that Robert Joffrey flew from New York to San Francisco to offer him a contract in his acclaimed dance company. But no, he turned down that offer, not interested. He was on a different career path: Junkie, occasionally employed drifter with a heroin habit. Trip's beautiful mind, body and heart belonged to smack, though he would have a one night stand with cocaine if there was no junk available. We all fell in love with him. He was strong and fragile and had movie star looks and charisma. Yes, Trip was his real name. When we met, he was 19, I was 15. Trip was his name and his destiny -- to trip lightly through life, then stumble, fall, crash, burn. Maybe some of us could have stopped him, stepped in front of him, held out our hands, yelled "Stop, in the name of love!" But the music was so loud, the lights were flashing so fast, so brightly, the room spinning so madly, the flames were so high. Maybe we could have stopped his descent, his gorgeous graceful hideous death spiral. But we didn't, did we?