Just because something doesn't appear on the evening news anymore doesn't mean it has gone away. When I was a kid, growing up in the 1980s, protests for world peace gave way to efforts to cure world hunger, and sub-Saharan children with flies on their faces became the unwitting icons for the global war on starvation. Such initiatives grow from the seed of beneficence, I'm sure (I hope), reach critical mass with t-shirts, hats and a pop song, then soon peter out and it's on to the next cause celebre. We never did solve starvation in Africa or anywhere else. We were easily distracted by other causes; homelessness, racism, and the depletion of the ozone layer, to name a few. Then, as the '80s gave way to the '90s, along came AIDS.

AIDS took the world by storm. For some, it was a sneak attack; for others, a tidal wave they saw coming but could do nothing to stop. It attacked our immune systems; it attacked our culture. It uncovered our fears and our prejudices. Yet, in shedding light on our intolerance, it somehow made us more tolerant, more compassionate. AIDS was a disease that brought out the best and worst in all of us, and unfortunately it took some of the best from us. One such casualty was Freddie Mercury.

Freddie was the dynamic, enigmatic lead singer of the legendary rock group Queen. He died of AIDS on November 24, 1991, just one day after becoming the first major rock star to go public with the disease. There was apprehension in those days to reveal that you had the disease, rock star or no rock star. In some not-so-distant parts of the world it was believed that only "fags" and "junkies" got AIDS. In some not-so-distant parts of the world, so long as it was happening to THEM and not US, everything was okay. Then Freddie died and things started to change. People were forced to ask themselves: Was Freddie one of US or one of THEM? Was Freddie GAY? How could the guy who sang "We Will Rock You" get AIDS? Did it matter?

Slowly it started to not matter who got AIDS or how they got it, because everyone started getting it. And while some people may have discriminated against each other, the disease did not. It hit men, women, gays, straights, blacks, whites, children, rich, poor, famous and not. This wasn't just happening to THEM anymore, it was happening to US. All of us. The greatest tool we had in our arsenal to combat this mysterious and deadly virus was awareness. AIDS forced people to examine deeply personal issues regarding sex, behavior, and lifestyle. It forced us to see each other as connected in ways we never had before. The people we became after AIDS infected our planet were not the same ones we were before. While we suffered greatly and inexplicably from this illness, we also became smarter, more in touch and less judgmental as a society.

In 1988, two public information officers, James W. Bunn and Thomas Netter, working for the Global Program on AIDS at the World Health Organization in Geneva, Switzerland were ahead of the curve in recognizing the seriousness and breadth of AIDS. They recommended setting aside a day every year dedicated to raising awareness of the AIDS pandemic caused by the spread of HIV infection. The first observance of World AIDS Day was December 1, 1988. The theme of the day was Communication. This theme resonates now more than ever.

Years of effort, education and research as well as improved access to antiretroviral treatment and care in many regions of the world has helped reduce the spread of AIDS. It's certainly taken it off the front cover, replaced by terrorism, natural disasters and Swine Flu. But the numbers are still staggering: AIDS has taken the lives of more than 25 million people since it was first diagnosed in 1981. A reported 33 million people still live with HIV infection worldwide. Last year AIDS claimed the lives of 2 million people, almost 300,000 of which were children. The Swine Flu, as serious and disconcerting as it may be, has taken a little over 8,500 lives worldwide. AIDS is still an epidemic, with over a million people living with HIV infection in the U.S. and nearly 60,000 new cases reported here every year.

So today, on this December 1st, take a moment to think again about this disease that has touched all of our lives. Maybe even think about Freddie Mercury, and if you are so inclined to do something, consider this: In 1997, I wrote a play called "MERCURY: The Afterlife and Times of a Rock God." It ran in NYC in 1997/1998 and then again in 2004/2006 in both NYC and Provincetown. The play deals openly with Freddie's life, including how he lost it to AIDS in 1991. It is now being published and will be available for the first time in print on December 14th. Proceeds from the sale of each play will be donated to amFAR, The Foundation for AIDS research. So you'll get a great play, a unique perspective on a fascinating life, and you'll be helping a terrific charity.

At the very least, take a moment today to think about AIDS again, remember what it did to us, what and who it took from us. Let's not allow it to happen again, with H1N1 or any other virus.

A copy of "MERCURY: The Afterlife and Times of a Rock God" can be purchased by visiting Original Works Publishing.