Pirate's Life for us! Pink Pyrate-'Captain Lilian Gordon' Ashley Bouck-Bob Bowers 'One Tough Pirate' and Teresa Bowers

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Bob Bowers aka One Tough Pirate receives the ultimate approval from Captain Captain Lilian Gordon aka Ashley Bouck

Pirate,
"The best reason to fight on is when one has a purpose. Thank you for helping me with my purpose. Thank you so much."

Captain Lilian Gordon aka Ashley Bouck

Teresa Bowers and Ashley Bouck

"A ship in port is safe, but that is not what ships are built for."
~ G.H.Murray

Bob, you're such an inspiration. Dig it. :D

~ Lisa

Keep up the good work Bob ,you are truly an inspiration . Take care, peace and love.

~ Sheila

AIDS activist - Follow Bob Bowers on Twitter

living with hiv/aids - Bob Bowers YouTube page

Da one and ONLY Captain Lilian Gordon aka Ashley Bouck

Hello. I ramble just to warn you ;o) I�m known by some as The Pink Pyrate. I tell you that because it�s relevant to why I am here today. Long story short, I joined a historical reenactment group and became a pirate. I was short on cash but wanted one of those fancy pirate frock coats, so I was determined to make one, since I couldn�t afford to buy one. I bought some cheap gaudy pink and gold brocade, and made my coat. The Pink Pyrate was born.

As a pirate, I got involved with other pirate groups and met Captain Slappy of Talk Like a Pirate Day who told me about Bob Bowers, One Tough Pirate. Bob is my freaking hero! That was about 6 months ago, and my passion has grown from there.

The first person I knew personally who was infected with HIV was a long time family friend, who was diagnosed about 15 years ago. I got involved in HIV awareness when my cousin was diagnosed a few years ago. I educated myself about it and am following the story on the vaccine they are working on in Sweden.

Currently I run 2 fund-raisers a year, one for breast cancer awareness and one for HIV awareness. I�ve become more involved with the HIV than with breast cancer. The personal reason? The stigma Pink Pyrate-Captain Lily Ash aka Ashley Bouck

Pink Pyrate-Captain Lily Ash aka Ashley Bouck

surrounding HIV needs to end. There is little stigma surrounding breast cancer. Breast cancer has so much support going for it. Even Target is on board with breast cancer awareness! I can get little pink rubber duckies of the web for breast cancer. Stickers and ribbons and dang pink Brita water pitchers! So much support and love goes toward breast cancer. And though it is a worthy cause: it is in my family, and because of my lovely genetics; I�ll probably get it. But, there�s little to no stigma. No utter lack of education, no rampant miss-information. All these things people with HIV have to deal with. So, I�m slowly leaning toward continuing HIV awareness and education. I dress up like a pink pirate, to get people�s attention, and they listen. I�m silly and playful and sometimes serious. When I�m serious, they really listen, because it�s just not in the character to be serious. So that�s how I get the message across. I know I�ve done well when someone says, �wow, I didn�t know that. Thanks.� After 28 years of hearing the facts, people still spread rumors and misinformation about HIV and AIDS, and it needs to be set strait. If I can do that a few people at a time, then I have made a difference.

Two TOUGH Pirates-Captain Lilian Gordon aka the Pink Pyrate and Bob Bowers aka Da Pirate or One Tough Pirate
NEVER F#CKING SURRENDER!!!

Who do you admire most ...?
Bob Bowers

Favorite Quote..
"Now & then we had a hope that, if we lived & were good, God would permit us to be pirates" - Mark Twain

About Me:(
The way I am? I have a very spontaneous, fearless nature. I flew to Australia when I was 17 years old with a group of strangers...and traveled to Scotland a year later...with a group of strangers. In August 07, I flew to Pennsylvania for Pennsic...to meet a group of strangers. Then in March of 09, I flew to Wisconsin to meet a bunch of strangers (Bob Bowers among them). They are now some of my dearest friends. Still strange, but good people. ;o)

More about me
My few of my hobbies that keep my mind keen are: tailoring (I make mostly SCA garb but have dabbled in mundane clothing as well), writing, research, hiking, camping, reading, SCA, and supporting my Captain/Commodore/Lord, Corum. I've also added fund-raising to the list! WOOT! I love parties!

Music
I listen to pretty much everything. If I like it, I like it.

Books
I like mostly history and non-fiction.

Television
I don't have cable, but I enjoy silly shows when I do have access to TV.

I want to share my own story, even though I�m not infected with HIV, I could very well be. It is a disease that does not discriminate, as all of us are all too aware of.

I was 17 years old, horny and apathetic. Abstinence is a myth, because I was as good as a good girl can get. I had a boy friend who had been my friend for years. It was a small country town that no one had heard of with a small population of people always in each others business. My boyfriend and I decided that we would have sex on Halloween. How fun! Halloween! So, we did. It was joyous and fun, unlike many other first time stories out there, I actually enjoyed myself. I�d known him for years and was very comfortable with him. We had sex any time we could after that. I was on birth control, we were in a small town, so I thought the worst that could happen was I would get pregnant. So, we didn�t use a condom. AIDS and STD�s only happened to bad, city folk; not us cute country bumpkins.

He called on Christmas eve, because he couldn�t wait any longer, it was tearing him up inside. He wanted to wait until after the holidays, so he didn�t ruin our holiday, but he couldn�t wait anymore. He had gone to Florida the summer previous, and had experimented with drugs; shared a needle and contracted HIV. My mom had answered the phone, he blurted it out to her and hung up. She was distraught but wouldn�t tell me who it was on the phone or what he had said. I finally got it out of her because she can�t NOT tell me something like that. I was numb. Christmas eve and I have HIV. That�s all I could think about. The stigma and the hate. I wouldn�t be able to get a job or keep a job. I�d have to lie for the rest of my life, because people with AIDS were dirty. People with AIDS were bad�and now I was bad, I was dirty. A good girl, with good grades. A girl who played with chickens and rode horses. I had good grades! I was in color guard and marching band. I was on the honor roll and I had AIDS (this was before I knew that HIV and AIDS were different). Me. I was infected. I was going to die. God had punished me for my sin. I never really thought to be angry with him. How were we supposed to know? Our AIDS education in 1995 consisted of about a week of sex education a year with a dash of about 30 seconds of HIV/AIDS thrown in there. He called a week (a month?) later and said his doctor now didn�t think it was HIV but close to the same thing, but different�yeah. THAT helped. I think he was just scared to face it too. Small hic town and HIV don�t mix well together.

I was going to college at the time through a program called Running Start, and had been going since I was 16. I hadn�t actually gone to my high school for classes since my sophomore year. Since we lived in a small town, of course everyone and I mean EVERYONE in the school knew, probably before I did, that I had AIDS. They figured that was the reason I wasn�t coming to school. My peers didn�t know I was going to college. I simply didn�t come to class the beginning of my junior year of high school. I continued going to college, I felt fine, nothing FELT wrong; so I just went on, like nothing was different. I was scared. I never got tested.

I went to my senior prom with a friend of mine. Everyone was shocked to see me, they thought I was sick, some thought I had died. My class enemy (everyone has to have one of these right?) walked up to me, looked me up and down with a disgusted look on her face, shrugged, snorted and walked away. Like, �bummer, she�s still alive.� We didn�t stay long. There were two reactions to me: disgusted stares and fake pity. I was shy, I was the good girl, I didn�t want to cause a scene and I was getting angry. So we left. I still didn�t get tested. I was disgusted with myself. I was dirty, I was sinful, I deserved to die and I didn�t want to know. �Positive� on a piece of paper would spell doom for me. If I never got tested, I could push it to the back of my mind and all but forget about it.

I did some amazing things those last few years of high school. I went to college, almost getting my AA; I went to Australia and New Zealand as a student ambassador for the United States and got to meet the presidents of both countries; I went to England and Scotland as a volunteer for people with disabilities in those countries. All the time, forgetting that I could be infected. I didn�t think about it. I felt fine.

I came home, got a job, lost a job, joined a motorcycle club, did some things I�m not proud of and did some things I still have nightmares about. I knew it had to stop, so I basically ran away from my life and went back to college. Somewhere in there, my mom told me that my grandmother�s friend�s son had been diagnosed with HIV and we were all rooting for him. I didn�t think about that either. I had so much loathing for myself, but I never thought to hate him for it. He was sick, nothing more. Why did I hate myself so much and not someone else? For the same damn thing? I still don�t know the answer to that. In 2004, I was diagnosed with Hashimoto's disease because of odd symptoms I was having and a low thyroid count. Hashimoto�s is an autoimmune disease that affects mostly the thyroid (if you have any questions about Hashimoto�s I will be happy to answer them). In the back of my mind I thought, doesn�t HIV mess up your thyroid too? But, I was still scared, still worried that I would be thrown aside and pushed away. I still didn�t know much about HIV. I didn�t want to know. I still didn�t get tested. I pushed it to the back of my mind and didn�t think about it. I was taking medication for my Hashimoto�s and it was making me better, so maybe, even if I did have HIV, I could still hide it behind this other disease.

In 2005 I moved to Seattle. I lived with my cousin for a while and he told me his brother had HIV. Wow, really? Okay, I can handle that. No problem. My family, of course, still loves him. They didn�t throw him aside or push him away. Wow, maybe I�ll be okay. It still took another year for me to be tested. 2006, ten YEARS after being exposed, I finally, fearfully, went in to get my blood drawn. I was terrified. Terrified like I had never been before. It wouldn�t change anything of course, I would still be me, but I would be me with HIV. The doctor made me come in to tell me. �Can�t you just tell me over the phone?� I asked. No she told me, I had to go in. I freaked out. I drove to the doctor�s office, shaking, and almost getting into a wreck. I sat in her office, she came in looking chipper. �We tested you for every STD we could think of,� she told me. Because of my �shady� past. Nothing. Not even a yeast infection. Holy crap! Are you serious? God must be smiling on me! Christ, do it again just in case! Nothing.

Ten years I wasted, loathing myself, for something I didn�t even have. And even if I would have had, I could have gotten help instead of beating myself up for it. I HATED myself. For ten years! I still think about that. Ten years that I can�t get back. That�s why I push so hard for people to get tested now. PLEASE get tested. I wasted ten years of my life, because I was afraid I would be left in the dark. I created the dark for myself, because I thought I deserved to be there, in that dark place. No one, I mean NO ONE deserves to be in that dark place. I crawled out of my hole, and now I want to help people not go through what I went through. If we would have worn a condom and not felt that we were untouchable�If I would have gotten tested right away�if�if�if�please, don�t �if� your life away. Get educated, use a condom, get tested. If you don�t have HIV, you�ll know; and if you do, you can get help.

Check out me hearties at Pennsic Pirates

Meeting with the saints of HIVictorious

Monday, March 2, 2009

This past week, I traveled to Madison WI to meet Bob and Teresa Bowers. The gentleman, the founder of HIVictorious; the lady, his beautiful bride. I cannot express the joy I felt when greeted with these two wonderful people on that cold Wisconsin Friday evening. They came to pick me up and stood outside the car in the biting cold, each to give me a hug in turn. Thanking ME for coming. Like I was some kind of hero. These two incredibly giving, caring, silly people, were thanking me. Me. What have I done really? Nothing. I have a thought in my head. A desire to make things right in the world. That is all I have to offer. They travel far and wide, bringing HIV/AIDS awareness to the entire country with a compassion that they radiate. I felt small. Bob is barely taller than me, but his heart and love is so huge�I felt small.

They took me to a Hawaiian place in Madison called Jolly Bob�s, and we joked through the entire dinner about the name of the place. To tell you the truth, I feel horrible, because I don�t remember much of what we talked about. But then again, I don�t remember much of what happened 5 minutes ago, so I

Pink Pyrate Captain Lily Ash-Teresa and Bob Bowers-One Tough Pirate

guess that�s nothing new. I remember discussing all the crap I can�t eat. We spoke of Breast cancer and his mother, my grandmother (Gigi) and my Aunty Aunt. And we talked about my two parties I have a year. �We have AIDS and breast cancer, fuck all the other disabilities!� I remember Bob laughing. Not at the other disabilities, but at our own inabilities to help everyone. We want to save everyone. That is something all three of us had in common. But we can�t, so, we can only laugh at ourselves. Laugh at our own limitations. I remember off handedly making fun of Bob�s incredibly huge wallet, calling it a man-purse and him laughing at that, and sticking it, with a little difficulty, back into his back pocket. I remember taking pictures, and hugging two of the most important people in my life. Acting silly and hamming it up for the camera. I remember Teresa commenting that she looked taller than Bob and I in all of the photos and Bob and I saying, at the same time, �you are!� I couldn�t stop grinning. My face hurt, my chest hurt. It was so full of love. I had a lump in my throat the entire time. I�m quite an emotional person, but I held it together the best I could. We talked of flying in planes and how we both had little heart attacks every time the plane did something weird. How we both listed to every little sound of the plane, wondering if the next moment, the thing is going to plunge out of the sky. We share a few weirdnesses which is funny. That�s the only one I really remember, but there were a couple more. I remember how cute they were, as we got up to take more photos, Teresa lightly touched his arm and they gave each other a little peck on the lips. Gazed into each other�s eyes for a split second, then went to the task at hand. Another thing I noticed from photos I�d seen, but never really paid attention; Bob�s glasses make his eyes look really big. You definitely know when he�s looking at you. He pays attention. Something that so few people do now days. Teresa pays attention too. I appreciate this so much from both of them, and had to fight the urge to go into creepy, tell them both my life story, psychological time. I refrained. We ate, they paid. Another thing I didn�t expect, but was overly grateful for.

After we left, we drove around for a while, and they showed me a little bit of Madison. The capitol building at night it quite a site. Bob told me how he liked Madison because everyone was so eager and willing to speak to him. Like the Mayor and the Police Chief. They are all so nice to him and make his job easier. We got stuck at a train crossing, and I secretly thanked God for the few more moments of time I got to spend with these two saints. There was no train, the crossing was stuck down. So we joked about a ghost train, and the cop that was sitting across the street watching the tracks. �They still make me nervous,� Teresa joked. And Bob said something about partying when she was younger. �No, it was the strip searches with the damn rubber gloves!� he answered back, laughing. �Yeah, they kind-of sting, eh?� I said. It made her laugh and give me a high five. We sat there for a couple more minutes, satisfied that a ghost train must be passing through, we crossed the tracks, squeezing in-between the mechanical arm and a light post. The cop ignored us.

We chatted a little more before they let me off at my friend�s house. Me offhandedly asking what they were doing Sunday morning, because I didn�t have a ride to the airport. They had plans. Bummer, I�d have to get a cab. Oh well, life goes on.

Saturday night, I get an email and a message than they�ll take me to the airport on Sunday morning. They had plans, Bob didn�t feel too great, but they were coming to give me a ride anyway. THAT�S how big these guys hearts are! I was so amazed, so grateful. I can�t express how I felt. I felt light, lifted on the wings of these angels. That was one more thing that I didn�t have to worry about. I got to see them one more time before I left Madison.

They came to pick me up, and again they got out of the car to greet me, and a myriad of Midland Pirates who wanted to meet them and were left over from the party from the night before. Even feeling icky, Bob stood out in the 6F weather and greeted every pirate in turn, chatting and laughing with them. I stood in awe. Teresa, hugging herself against the cold, opened up to hug me, and chat with a few of the pirates. These two people are amazing! They took me to the airport and gave me a few more goodies from HIVictorious to use at the fundraiser party. Bob pulled my bags from his trunk and said �that will be $5 Ma�am.� �I�ll send it to you in a month,� I said. �Yeah,� he laughed. A few more pictures in the cold (Bob likes pictures!), a few �fuck it�s cold� comments; hugs, and more hugs, and I was on my way.

Ashley Bouck aka the Pink Pirate and Teresa and Bob Bowers aka One Tough Pirate

Why did I go to Madison? It was for Bob and Teresa; but more selfishly, it was for me. I needed to. I wanted to touch and see and feel what I was fighting for. I�m an odd one, a serious tactile learner and it made it all more real to me. If I can�t see it, or touch it, it�s really hard for me to grasp. I have a hard time understanding abstract concepts. The breast cancer party was real to me already. I can touch breast cancer: my Gigi and my Aunty Aunt; I�ve never touched HIV before. The one person I know who has contracted it, won�t/can�t come visit me. Well, now I know two people who have it. A friend who will remain nameless to keep his privacy and Bob. I got to hug Bob. I got to feel his energy and his warmth. He is real, HIV is real, and I am proud to call him and Teresa my friends.