Red Planet Blues

I was in a lot of theater productions in high school, particularly in my junior and senior years, when I was in virtually everything my school staged. Oddly enough, though, the thought of going on stage terrified me. You wouldn't know it but I'd be a nervous wreck beforehand, although I truly loved actually being on stage. I loved the audience and I loved the applause. Probably my best times in high school were being in theater.

Something that calmed me down in the time before going on stage was that for a long time I only let one person apply my theater makeup. She was this skinny little white girl named Kerry Lou Kirch.

Kerry and I developed a certain bond through the ritual of preparing to go on stage, and later when we worked on a column together for our school's daily newspaper, The Echo. That bond has lasted over the decades and will probably continue to the end of my natural life -- and probably beyond that.

My friend Kerry Lou died last Sunday in Georgia doing something she always loved and which I never understood -- skydiving.

Ker had a joy of life and of living that I have witnessed in few people. She experienced her share of sadness and sorrow, as do we all, but I can never think of a time when she wasn't happy. I can't think of a picture I have seen of her when she wasn't smiling.

She was smart and talented, spoke fluent German (a language I could never master despite years of lessons in high school and college), and loved animals (particularly dogs), the outdoors, sex and skydiving.

And she was a writer.

Perhaps the best expression of who Ker was is on display in RED PLANET BLUES (Mothership Press, 1998), which she wrote under the name Kerry Lou. Dedicated to her mother Fran (another extraordinary woman), Red Planet, as the cover says, is about "interstellar love and the end of the world as we know it." It is the story a present-day Earth woman named Amber who falls in love with and marries a blue-skinned Martian, who comes to Earth to warn it of its destruction if humans don't change their ways.

Like Kerry, it is about fantasy and romance, and about peace, the environment and saving the planet. It is part science fiction and part erotic fiction.

(In the inscription of my signed copy, Kerry says "Martians make better lovers" and thanked me as a "fellow writer and inspiration." I'm not sure what the inspiration was about but there is a thin black journalist in the novel named Dab Mitchell. Dab is a minor character until late in the book but he does manage to get some nookie. All I could say was, as a member of the human species, I was glad to make a contribution to intergalactic peace and understanding.)

Kerry visited us both in Philadelphia and in Indianapolis. And though their encounters with Kerry were only for a day or two at a time, even my daughters remember her with joy and fondness. It is because Kerry had an incredible mind and imagination. And she reached out to my kids in an uninhibited way that made her visits memorable to them.

(Though she was invited, of course, Kerry missed my wedding. But I forgave her. She attended her sister's wedding, which was the same day.)

Kerry loved to explore the idea parallel universes and extraterrestrial or interdimensional life. And at Christmas and birthdays she would send me peace angels to help guide my way. I will truly miss those cards and greetings.

Kerry's mother and two sisters are planning a celebration of her life this Saturday in Sarasota. And it kills me that I won't be able to make it. But a 4 o'clock, I will celebrate the passing of one of my oldest friends, knowing she is soaring around somewhere with all the other peace angels.

Starting back in high school, Kerry Lou Kirch provided me with an example of how a joyous life should be lived. I will miss her but feel privileged to have known her.

May she soar in peace.

Thanks for reading.