I met Alan Mead in high school. When I realized his sense of humor was as wicked and well...sophomoric... as mine, we became fast friends. Truth be known, though, he was always funnier than me. Because we were part of a tiny group of males in the predominately female drama class, we were cast in nearly every production...often doing several parts. We became a team. When Mrs. Husted read off who would play what part in "U.S.A", we were doing so many parts that she eventually just said that the part of so-and-so would be played by "AJ." The crowning glory of my high school performing career was "Mark Twain Tonight." Alan, who was even more of a Twain freak than I, immediately volunteered to do the makeup. The makeup he designed turned out to be as much of a triumph as my performance.
Alan and I nearly died together once. We went on an ill-conceived hike into the Rincon Mountains ...in the middle of summer. We both wound up suffering extreme heat exhaustion. Had it not been for the kindly park rangers who took pity on the idiot children passed out by the side of the road, we might never have made it back. When we were in bed recuperating from our ordeal, my sister teased us that half of our bodies was white and half was red. Alan's response was "we're part Indian."
When Alan's family moved to Mesa, he stayed with my family to continue going to High School in Tucson. It was a slightly illegal situation, but it took the Man six months to catch us. For that six months that we lived like brothers the laughter never stopped.
Alan moved to California after High School. He visited, although not nearly as often as I would have liked. On one of those visits he came out to me as gay. I was totally surprised but he said not to worry. He was surprised when he found out too. Unfortunately, I was also sad to learn he was gay...not because there's another wrong with it...but because the friend I had loved all though years was gone and I would never see him again. I grieved for one day until I was able to accept this new improved friend and get to know him.
Years later I was able to return the favor by coming out to him as trans. (I'm paraphrasing here of course. Trans wasn't a word back then.) His only response was to warn me not to make it public knowledge because it could be used against me. His "sayings of sooth" were tragically prophetic.
In High School, Alan promised me that on Jan. 1st 2000, he would come to my psychiatrist office (that's what I wanted to be back then....ironic huh?) and announce that had come to see the "Sakeeatrist." I don't remember what prompted this or even where he had come up with the word, but he vowed he would do it. I looked forward to that time and was heart broken when the millennium came and went and Alan never showed up. Since I just learned that he recently committed suicide, I guess now I can stop waiting.
I will always love you, O greatest friend of my youth
Alan Mead 1956-2016
