Renée Jacobs

Free food. Now we’re talking! If there’s eats, I’m there, my little pepper pots. Tonight’s event, for the price of admission—and it’s for charity—the food is catered by local gourmet restaurateurs. Tasty. De-lish. The event is the twentieth anniversary of Focus on AIDS, which has raised over $2.8 million over the years. I walk around the makeshift gallery here at the Los Angeles Director’s Guild and mingle among the work of such artists as Keith Haring (who created a drawing for the first event), Greg Gorman, George Hurrell, Robert Mapplethorpe, and Renée Jacobs. Renée Jacobs?! Wait. I know Renée. Is that little peach here? 

I frantically look around and spot her just a few feet away. Several years ago, Renée and I became aware of each other through a mutual friend. Our schedules didn’t mesh in L.A., and we didn’t meet in person until we happened to both be visiting Florida at the same time! Just like Liza’s old song, “Ring Them Bells”: She traveled the world to meet the guy next door! Anyway, I finally met Renée in Aventura at Katz’s Deli, and she had her delightful parents, who live in the area, in tow.

Renée is a gem. She’s forty-five, Philly-bred, and, soon after college, in the mid-eighties, Renée lived among the residents of Centralia, Pennsylvania, the location of an underground mine fire that has been ablaze since 1962. Yes, 1962! She wrote about eyewitness accounts of the devastation, which were then published, along with her evocative photos, in book form, Slow Burn: A Photodocument of Centralia, Pennsylvania. Work on the book piqued her interest in environmental issues and the girl decided to attend law school. After practicing law for fifteen years, she decided to pick up her dusty camera once again. She found the business quite thorny, and hit the skids emotionally. It was a frustrating, desperate climb, but over the past year, Renée has racked up some accolades for her photography, such as an honorable mention at the International Photography Awards for one of her nudes. Her work has appeared in Romania’s Maxim magazine and Esquire magazine in Turkey. She has recently been approached to create a calendar of her work and a greeting-card line. Tonight, Renée has a piece in the silent auction. 

We both need some air so Renée and I exit the affair and walk the streets of West Hollywood, whose charms remain hidden if you only travel by car.

Ruby Comer: Honey, tell me about the two AIDS/LifeCycles you completed.
Renée Jacobs: Both rides were defining moments in my life. The first ride, June 2000, was for my best friend, Patrick, but also for me and for the cause. Patrick is fifty-three, and, unbeknownst to me, was positive and had almost “left the building” about six months before I met him, which was back in 1997. When he did finally tell me, it was no big deal, but it was a real eye-opener for me. Because of him my ears are now finely tuned. Fortunately, the drug cocktail saved his life.

Then Naoko came into your life! [Her girlfriend of two years, Naoko Fujimaki, is a physical therapist, and has become Renée’s muse.]
Yes! [She chuckles.] And since the first ride was such a powerful and potent experience for me I really wanted to do it again with her. She’s such a little stud. She could do it in her sleep! I thought it would be a great bonding experience. Little did I realize that most of the ride she would be a tiny speck of dust somewhere up ahead and far off on the horizon. [She giggles.] We named ourselves the “Jacomaki Team.”

A combo of your names! And you told your parents you were gay.
You know, [as gay people] we have to hold onto these events since a lot of us don’t have weddings, kids, and other momentous occasions to celebrate with our family. For me, the ride was so important emotionally.

Indeed. And what happened after you told Mama and Papa?
I extracted a promise from them that they would come out [to California]. And they did. It was also their fiftieth wedding anniversary that week. We hooked up in San Francisco along with Patrick, and we all hung out for a couple of days before the event. Had a great time! The plan was that they would kind of do their own thing, drive down the coast and maybe occasionally hook up with us along the way. Then we would all reunite in Los Angeles and spend more time together.

What came to pass, sugar?
They got so sucked into the community, the passion, and the theater of the absurd of the ride and it’s own little moveable feast! They ended up sticking very close to the ride for the entire time. We saw them every day, and most nights they took us out to dinner. They made friends all along the route. Mom was in heaven with all the great-looking guys. I remember one day Mom was changing her shirt in a corner and a cute guy walked by. She said, “Eh, I’m too old to care.” And the guy responded, “Eh, I’m too gay to care.” [Renée bursts into laughter. I join in as we jaywalk—oops, a no-no in L.A.—across Crescent Heights Boulevard.] They were present for “Red Dress Night”; my parents were in the middle of it all—cheering and going wild. They loved it! We would find them in the weirdest places along the route, in the middle of nowhere standing and cheering by the side of the road. Or they would be at one of the rest stops or the dinner stops kibitzing with one of the other riders.

How was it at the end of the ride?
Seeing them when we came into L.A. was just the most fabulous thing in the world. [She tears up.] When we pulled into Los Angeles, they were screaming and yelling their lungs out and waving signs. I knew my Mom would get swept up into the ride, but it really did blow my mind that my Dad got so wrapped up in it too.

Know what? I wanna hear it from the horse’s mouth. Let’s call your parents! [Renée agrees, pulls out her cell, calls, and her Dad, Mike, answers.] Hey Mike, it’s Ruby and Renée in L.A. I want to know your thoughts on your overall experience with the AIDS/LifeCycle?
Mike: Oh, Ruby, it was phenomenal and extraordinary. The people who organized it were outstanding. I felt tremendous camaraderie with all of the riders and everyone who was involved.

I’m so elated to hear this. Is Sandy around, per chance? [He signs off and puts on “the boss,” Renée’s Mom.] Hey Sandy! I wanna get your reaction to the ride and how it affected you.
Sandy: It was the most meaningful week in my entire life! I had chills the whole time. Tears, laughter, joy, pride…I felt it all. I could go on and on but there are not enough words to describe it. I am so proud of Renée and Naoko and everybody who did this ride. And then at the end when the riderless bike [she pauses]…I lost it, Ruby.

Everyone was so caring, so considerate and so helpful. I wish we could bring all this kindness back into the world today. [She coughs.] Renée got a flat tire and everybody around her stopped to help her. If this had happened in some places, they’d probably stop and rob you. The ride was so moving. I get chills all over again just talking about it.

What supportive parents you are! [As Sandy says goodbye, we find ourselves back on the steps of the Director’s Guild.] Renée, can you sum up the AIDS/LifeCycle in a nutshell?
[Her eyes raise toward the lighted sky. She sighs contentedly.] Ruby, the joy encompasses you. The AIDS/LifeCycle is a joyful celebration of life.

Feast your eyes at www.RenéeJacobs.com and pedal over to www.aidslifecycle.org.

Ruby Comer is an independent journalist from the Midwest who is happy to call Hollywood her home away from home. Reach her by e-mail at MsRubyComer@aol.com.

July 2007