Tomás Latham

“ScreenQueen.” Yep, that’s what he calls himself. I’ve been eager to download him into my column ever since my computer stud in Los Angeles clued me in to this San Francisco-based computer whiz who offers his services to several AIDS organizations, as well as the computer-challenged public, like myself. It was also a good excuse to visit beautiful, bawdy, bodacious San Francisco!  

Yet here I am—holed up in a beige hotel room on a drizzly, foggy evening. I am having my nightly fix of Rose, Blanche, Dorothy, and Sophia on The Golden Girls when my laptop goes caplooey. Damn this hi-tech can! I need this fixed immediately, so I contact “ScreenQueen” a day earlier than planned. He graciously pops over and swiftly boots my computer into shape. “ScreenQueen,” aka Tomás Latham, forty-five, is gay (drats for me) and active in the HIV community. He has delivered hot meals to PWAs through Project Open Hand, and continues to participate in the annual San Francisco AIDS Walk.

We’re both feeling chatty but, because it’s late, we agree to continue our talk the next day. Tomás tells me that he is an avid birdwatcher and suggests we meet in Golden Gate Park, next to the tennis courts. The next day we assemble and stroll down the path that leads to the AIDS Memorial Grove. It is a grassy area with manicured gardens, pine and redwood trees. Tomás leads me up granite stairs to Pine Crescent, where we sit on a stone bench overlooking the Grove.

Ruby Comer: What a beautiful place.

Tomás Latham: I come here often to think and watch birds. [He points.] Oh, look there’s a flock of bushtits.

They is cute [talking in a babyish tone]. Looks like little squirrels. Tomás, you’re Latino, aren’t you?

Yes, I’m half-Hispanic. I’m seventh-generation Californian. In 1796, my great, great, great, great, great-grandfather, Jorge Francisco Ortega, was the lead scout for the Gaspar de Portolá expedition. One morning, he came up over this hill and discovered San Francisco Bay. And it seems that they named it after his saint, St. Francis.

Lordie lou, I’m sitting here with royalty! What can you say to your fellow Latinos and the younger generation about HIV prevention?

I’m always very wary about anything that smacks of advice; one person having the answer for another person. I tend to react badly to someone who purports to have the answer for my life. But at the same time....[He ponders.] For one night of that exquisite pleasure, it’s just not worth the risk of limiting your life experience. I remember how invincible I felt in my younger days: There is no mortality! There are no consequences. It’s all about me and having fun now. I understand that attitude, but it can’t be that way. Each one of us has to be responsible for our own future.

Well-stated. How has AIDS touched you?

I’ve lost several boyfriends, many acquaintances, and a dear friend and roommate, Bruce. That was the worst blow, as I knew him the longest.

Did you ever go through guilt feelings about not having AIDS?

No, I never did. Probably because I knew Bruce engaged in risky sex. I remember asking him one time, “How do you just not use protection?” His answer was, “When you’re all heavy into it, ya just don’t bother with it.” You see, I’m never out of control like that.

Thank heaven, too. How did you feel when Bruce told you this?

Part of me was jealous that he was able to let go and be free. And part of me was like, “Oh, no, that just would not work for me.” And that’s a good thing [he says, with a sideways glance and half a smirk].

Tomás, how do you handle the loss?

I’m not sure that I do handle the loss, or that I have handled the loss. I wonder to this day how much of that is still bottled up inside me. Whenever I found out someone died of AIDS, like Bruce, my first reaction is to go out and have sex. When I told a friend this, he commented, “Well, of course. You’re looking for that reconnection to life because you just lost part of that connection.”

That makes perfect sense. Do you think there’s life after death?

Definitely! Our energy, our spirit, our soul, the life force is applied to something else in some other form. I certainly do not believe that we end once our physical body is kaput. It’s a continuation. Our life here on earth is just a portion of the continuum. I believe what Nina Hagen sings in a song, “There is no death.”

Love Nina! [Tomás doesn’t hear me as he is still focused.]

When I remember those I’ve lost, I always think about how fortunate I am to have had those people in my life. Bruce made me laugh so much. How lucky I am to have connected with him, and the others—such great people. They’re still here in some way, and I know I will meet up with them in the future.

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.

May 2004