Mar 4, 2017

Pep Rallies

When I was in junior high, every Friday they forced us to go to the gym for a so-called "pep rally."

Cheerleaders (all girls) forced us to yell "Boy, am I enthused!", jump up and down, and scream as loud as we could.

The mascot danced and did gymnastic stunts.

Then we had to sing our fight song.  I still remember most of the words.

Our T-E-A-M is the best.
We will fight with all our M-I-G-H-T.
W-A-S-H-I-N-G-T-O-N, that's our school, all right.

There were pep rallies in high school and college, too.  They weren't required, but I went anyway, even though I had no intention of going to the game later.




I didn't understand the point of pep rallies.  If you liked sports, singing wouldn't make you like them more, and if you didn't like sports, singing wouldn't help.

Apparently they were recommended by educational authorities of the 1960s and 1970s.  Singing and stomping produces "cohesion," a sense of belonging to a group, and students with high cohesion work harder on their schoolwork, get better grades, and are less likely to drop out.

But I went to them for another reason altogether.



I hated the noise, the crowd, the shouting, and the bouncing pom-pom girls.  But it was all worth it when the team came on stage.

First the captain talked about how prepared they were and how much they planned to trounce their opponents.

Then they demonstrated their size and strength by doing push-ups, performing gymnastic stunts, or playing exhibition games of sports other than their own.

Football players would play basketball, basketball players would wrestle, baseball players would play volleyball.






There were lots of bulges and biceps on display, and sometimes players appeared shirtless.

Not very often, but often enough to build suspense and anticipation: would we see the jocks half-naked today?












When it happened, it was a golden moment, a lot better than actually going to a game.













April 1968: The First Boy I Tied Up

Racine, Wisconsin, April 1968

I was eight years old, in second grade at Hansche Elementary School in Racine, Wisconsin, and I wanted to tie up a boy.

Guys were being tied up all the time in the mass culture of the 1960s: on Batman, The Green Hornet, The Wild Wild Westin Tarzan and Bomba the Jungle Boy movies, in comic books.  It was a standard means of putting the hero in peril.

But I didn't want to put anyone in peril.  I wanted to tie a boy up so he could strain against the ropes, so his muscles would stand out, and I could see and feel him as much as I wanted.

Maybe we would even kiss.




I didn't know the name of the boy I wanted to tie up: I only saw him in the schoolyard at recess.  We were probably the same age, but he was bigger than me, with hard shoulders and biceps.  He had a strikingly handsome face, heavy eyebrows, high cheekbones, and black hair, long and unruly in the 1960s style.

He didn't play with the other kids.  He sat by himself.

He never smiled.

I wasn't sure, but I might have seen him at the beach, too.  Lake Michigan was only a couple of blocks from our house, so we were there almost every warm day, and once last summer I saw a very cute buffed boy splashing around in the cold water with his parents.

He wasn't smiling then, either.

That's why he was so attractive: he was dark, brooding, a lost soul.

I knew exactly how I wanted to tie him up: on a chair, with his shirt off, his hands tied behind his back, and his legs tied to the chair posts.  That way, I would be able to kiss and touch his chest and biceps, his belly, maybe even his private area, and feel his "shame."

Mom said we should never touch our own "shame," except to wash and go to the bathroom, so it would be especially intimate to touch another boy's.

As I devised the plan, problems arose.

1. It couldn't happen in the house: Mom and Dad would be there.  This was too intimate for them to know about. Finally I decided on a park a couple of blocks from Hansche School, where there were some benches amid the trees.  I could tie the boy to one of the benches.

2. I didn't have any rope, at least not the nice, thick kind they used in the movies.  I hoped kite string would work.

3. I didn't know how to tie knots, except on my shoe.  So I would have to use those bow knots.

4. How could I get the boy to agree to be tied up?

When you're seven years old, you can make friends easily: you just
walk up to the guy and start talking.

 It took me a couple of weeks to screw up my courage, but one day in the spring, I walked up to him at recess and asked "Do you want to play after school?"

The full post, with nude photos, is on Tales of West Hollywood.

Mar 3, 2017

My Favorite Sexual Activity

Quickly, without thinking about the answer, what would you like to do with this guy?

The answer is probably: touch him.

Erotic desire is about touch.

What we call "sex" is actually about touch: fondling him, kissing him,  entering him.

There are three ways to do that: oral, anal, and interfemoral (from the  femur bone that extends down the thighs).






The rest of the post is too explicit for Boomer Beefcake and Bonding.  You can read it on Tales of West Hollywood.

Mar 2, 2017

Suddenly Susan: Biceps, Brooke Shields, and Pete the Gay Mail Boy

In the fall of 1997, when I moved to New York to work on my Ph.D., you had four main tv choices on Monday nights: America's Funniest Home Videos, the hundredth series starring Bill Cosby, the uber-religious Seventh Heaven, and Suddenly Susan (1996-2000).  Guess which won?

It was one of many workplace sitcoms about Young Female Journalists with Big Ideas who butt heads with stick-in-the-mud magazine or newspaper editors, in this case Susan (Brooke Shields, best known for Blue Lagoon nearly twenty years before) and Jack (Judd Nelson, the homophobic bigot best known from the execrable Breakfast Club nearly twenty years before).

Suddenly single after a long engagement, Susan is assigned to write a column about what it's like to be...um...single in contemporary San Francisco.  But she, naturally, wants to do more.  And, of course, she and Jack have a "You're so arrogant!" Sam-and-Diane romance going on.

Her main coworkers included:
1. Photographer Luis (Nestor Carbonell, top photo), a Latino hunk ("Today is the day I work on my biceps.")
2. Sardonic restaurant critic Vickie (gay-positive comedian Kathy Griffin, right)
3. Susan's arch-nemesis, tough-as-nails reporter Maddy (Andrea Bendewald).
4. Pete (Billy Stevenson), the mail boy.





5. Hip music reporter Todd (David Strickland, left).

Two things made Suddenly Susan memorable (excluding Nestor Carbonell's biceps).

1. On March 22, 1999, David Strickland committed suicide.  Instead of replacing him without comment, the producers decided to incorporate his death into the series.

When Todd fails to report for work and doesn't respond to his pager, his coworkers spend the day searching for him and worrying.  Finally they congregate in his apartment.  The episode ends with the telephone ringing.  Everyone looks around, afraid to answer, knowing what news is coming.  It gave me goosebumps. Very effective.



2. Pete the Mail Boy.  Although he appeared in only 15 of the 93 episodes, he was still memorable as just about the only gay character on television who wasn't portrayed as a swishy stereotype.  In fact, he was dimwitted and rather a nerd.

When he married his boyfriend, the equally nerdish Hank (Fred Stoller, left), he talked the homophobic Jack into participating -- quite a memorable accomplishment for the 1990s.

See also: Just Shoot Me



Mar 1, 2017

The Guys Who Made Harvey Comics Gay-Friendly

When I was a kid, I loved Harvey Comics, especially Casper, Spooky, and Hot Stuff, the residents of the Enchanted Forest.  Their pacifist nonconformity and buddy-bonding gave me some of my first hints of gay potential.

It didn't hurt that I usually read them while spending the night with my Cousin Buster in the trailer in the dark woods.

I also read Harvey Comics set in the real world, about kids with weird obsessions: Richie Rich, Little Lotta, Little Dot.  They were evocative, but didn't provide the magic of the ghosts.

It never occurred to me, by the way, that the stories were supposed to be humor.  Jokes detracted from my deadly serious quest to find a "good place," where boys could live together without being forced to express an interest in girls every five seconds.

The Harvey character style was instantly recognizable. Male or female, ghost or human, they were all drawn the same:

Disproportionately huge heads (especially when compared with real boys)

No necks.

Pear-shaped heads, large oval eyes with black pupils, pug noses, mouths curving downward a little lower than on a real person.



I was confused by some stories with a different character style:  far less attractive: fat, dumpy, with a bigger head and bigger head and bigger eyes.

Eventually I realized that those stories were reprints from the 1950s and early 1960s.  The house style changed abruptly in 1966.






There was a change in the plotlines, too.  In the early stories, Casper and company visit mythological and fairy-tale creatures.  The Milky Way is full of actual milk, and the sun is a sentient being.

Later stories are mostly realistic science fiction, with mad scientists and alien invaders.  In 1972, Casper goes to the moon on the Apollo 16 (he was, in fact, the mission mascot).





The same thing happened to the human Harvey characters.  In 1966, Richie Richie Rich became slimmer, with smaller eyes, and a smaller tie.













By the 1970s, he even had a muscular physique, and he had moved from humor stories to adventure, espionage, and science fiction.

Harvey Comics never divulged the writers or artists, so it wasn't until many years later that I discovered who was responsible for the change: Sid Jacobson  who began working at Harvey in the 1950s, and became story editor in 1964.  He tried to modernize the Harvey stories for the space-oriented 1960s.

Meanwhile Warren Kremer, the art editor, spearheaded a new, attractive, "hip" character style.

Ernie Colon, who joined Harvey in 1967, completed the transformation.  He and Sid Jacobson collaborated on most of stories for the next 15 years, until Harvey stopped publishing comics in 1982.


When Harvey Comics folded, Colon moved to DC Comics, where he worked on such projects as Arak, Son of Thunder, Arion, Prince of Atlantis, and the graphic novel Ax.

  He and Sid Jacobsen collaborated on several graphic novels, including, a history of the African-American experience, the story of Anne Frank, and The 9/11 Report: A Graphic Adaption.

Kremer moved on to Star Comics, where he created two new characters, Planet Terry and Royal Roy.

I don't know if any of them were gay, but they certainly helped some gay kids find meaning in the homophobic 1970s.


See also: Casper the Friendly GhostSpooky the Tuff Little GhostLesbian Subtexts in the Harvey Girls; Richie Rich Joins a Gym.



10 Hunkiest Scrubs Patients, Part 2

I'm being forced to watch the awful medical "comedy" Scrubs, which apparently lasted for 9 whole seasons.  I usually keep my eyes on my computer screen or book to avoid the gross medical procedures, annoying characters, and jaw-droppingly horrible plotlines, just pausing to nod when my friend turns to me and asks "Isn't this the best show ever?"

The only redeeming feature is the beefcake.  The male physique is on display far more often than the female.

The regular cast strips down constantly (this is Robert Mascio as The Todd, a surgeon horndog who drools, leers, and makes gross sexual propositions to every woman he sees, yet is not fired.  At least he has a physique).

And there is a constant stream of musclemen in hospital gowns playing patients.  They usually die, but still...

Here are the 10 hunkiest patients from the last half of Scrubs (Seasons 5-9), arranged in order of the seriousness of their disease.


1. Joseph (Tony  Tambi).  Appendectomy.

2. Roger Templeton (Tim Munday, left). Amnesia.









3. Alex Macrae (Peter Holden). Porphyria (a blood disorder, makes your pee purple).

4. Emery Redmond (Michael Mitchell, left), Mysterious burns.













5. Joe Hutnik (Kevin Rahm, left), Lyme Disease.  I don't know what that is, but it sounds serious.

6. Tom Halford (Scott Rinker).  Kidney transplant.

















7. Brian Dancer (Michael Weston), brain damage, no short term memory.

8. John (Scott Holroyd, left). Breast cancer.  The "comedy" involves the demasculation of a guy getting a disease that's "just for women," to the consternation of his macho brothers.














9. Eric McNair (Henry LeBlanc), paralyzed.

10. Cole Aaronson (Dave Franco).  A medical student with skin cancer.  Survives.

See also: The 10 Hunkiest Scrubs Patients, Part 1








12 Spring Break Boys

I've been on college campuses, as a student or a teacher, almost every year of my life, so spring break is always a big deal.

A week off in March or early April, actually ten days if you skip the Friday befor (which everyone does), when plane flights are still cheap.and tourist destinations uncrowded!

Here are 12 memorable spring breaks, crowded with sightseeing and cruising.

1979: Chicago.  It was my freshman year of college.  Growing up in Rock Island, I'd been to Chicago many times, of course, but this time I had a goal: my friend Mary asked me to determine if her kid brother was gay.   After spending the night with him, I reported to Mary that he was absolutely straight -- wink wink, nudge nudge.

1988: Pattaya, Thailand.  When I was living in West Hollywood, my friend Alan moved to Thailand to start a gay Pentecostal church.  He was sidetracked into an ex-gay cult, so I flew over to rescue him with a trip to Pattaya, the gay party capital of Southeast Asia.



1995: Washington, DC. To visit Alan and his partner Sandy, and put on a live sex show for him.

1998: San Francisco.  I was in New York, getting my Ph.D.  Yuri the Russian meteorology major had just come out, and wanted to see the heart of the heart of the gay world.  So we flew to San Francisco, stayed with my friend David, and went cruising on Castro Street. Sharing, a bear party, underwear night, a hookup, and a drive down Lombard Street.


2000: West Hollywood.  Home for a decade, but it was nice to be back for a visit.  And I hooked up with a celebrity.

2005: Another Paris-Brussels-Amsterdam circuit, when I met the Dutch African at the Horseman's Club, and he brought me home as a "birthday present" for his brother.

The full post, with nude photos, is on Tales of West Hollywood

Feb 28, 2017

Forrest Millard, the First Gay Physique Model

During World War II, Forrester Dorlac moved from Missouri to Los Angeles with his parents.  He went out for gymnastics, and used to work out on Muscle Beach in Santa Monica with the other bodybuilders.  A lot of gay men used to come down to watch -- Forrester was straight, but he loved the attention -- and one day in 1946, Bob Mizner invited the 16-year old to his mother's house in downtown Los Angeles for a photo shoot.  It was fun to put on a skimpy posing strap, and recreate the poses of a classical Greek statue.  And it was gratifying to realize that guys found him attractive.

Forrester returned again and again for 15 photo shoots during the next 14 years, using the stage name Forrester Millard.   Bob sold the photos by mail order through his company, the Athletic Model Guild, and, beginning in 1951, Physique Pictorial, the first magazine aimed at a gay male audience (although it claimed to be for fitness enthusiasts).

He also appeared in a Mizner film.

Branching out, Forrester became the "mascot" for the Table of Contents of Tomorrow's Man beginning in 1954.

Mizner photographed thousands of men, including professional bodybuilders Ed Fury and Chris Dickerson, and film and tv stars like Sammy Jackson, Glenn Corbett, and Nick Adams, but he loved returning to Forrester, his first, and favorite, model.


In 1958, Forrester posed with  John Tristram for several openly homoerotic scenes, giving many gay men their first glimpse of same-sex desire and romance.  They were reprinted frequently during the 1960s,


In 1960 Forrester left Los Angeles and retired from modeling.  Eventually he married Barbara, and they had a son, Forrester Jr.  They lived in Rochester, Washington, near Olympia, for thirty years.
















In 2009, Dennis Bell, head of the Bob Mizner Foundation, sought Forrester out for an interview.  He was surprised that he was still remembered, and gratified that he had a profound impact on gay culture, helping thousands of men come out.  He agreed to recreate some of his classic poses.

He died in 2011.

There are nude photos on Tales of West Hollywood.





How to Tie Up Twinks

I have come to the conclusion that almost all guys under age 30 are into bondage.  Maybe not in gay neighborhoods, where S&M masters are readily available, but out here on the Plains, hinting that you might like to tie them up is like dangling a carrot in front of a donkey: they'll follow you anywhere.

Of course, they're nervous.  They've never given up control before.  But they're intrigued -- and enthusiastic.  The sooner you can set up a scene, the better.

Even if you're not into bondage and domination play, a tied up twink is pleasant for "vanilla sex."

There are 8 steps to a successful BDSM scene.






1. Prepare the Bottom

I prefer my bottoms, also called "subs" or "boys," to be young and thin, but any age and size is fine.

Never suggest a scene for a first date or hookup.


All BDSM play involves dominance and force, so it's important to have a verbal contract in advance.  Agree on which acts will or might occur.  Arrange for a safe word for him to use if he wants an activity to stop.

No, there is no one who is "into everything." He has to specify what he definitely wants to happen, what he is ok with, and what he definitely doesn't want to happen.




2. Set Up the Space

If you don't have a separate room set up as a  dungeon, any room will work.  I use my regular bedroom, but remove the usual paraphernalia, put dark drapes on the windows, black sheets on the bed, and my equipment laid out on the dresser.  Some sinister-looking artwork, gargoyles and such.

Loud music is essential to drown out the other sounds. A classical symphony sounds majestic, or you can go with heavy metal:  I like Iron Maiden, Judas Priest, and Marilyn Manson,


3. Shift from Regular Time to the Scene

After the preliminaries -- the small talk, the drinks, the bathroom break, some kissing and fondling -- the scene begins.

I always tell the bottom that the scene begins when I put on my leather vest, and ends when I take it off.  During that period, neither of us have names.  I will not speak to him except to issue commands, and he is not permitted to speak except his safe word, "Yes, sir," and "No, sir,"

I then go into the other room, take off my shirt, put on my leather vest, and return.  I order the bottom to strip and kneel with his hands behind his back.

Then we're ready for the scene to begin.

The full story, with nude photos and sexual content, is on Tales of West Hollywood.

Feb 27, 2017

Call It Thunder: 40 Years of Fleetwood Mac

Fleetwood Mac was big when I was in high school, especially during my junior year, 1976-77, when I discovered what "gay" meant and started dating Verne, the preacher's son.

 I wasn't a fan.  Their songs were all about girls:

"Rhiannon":
Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night
And wouldn't you love to love her?
Takes to the sky like a bird in flight
And who will be her lover?

"Dreams":
Thunder only happens when it's raining
Players only love you when they're playing
Say women they will come and they will go
When the rain washes you clean, you'll know, you'll know



Plus they were heterosexual.  Mick Fleetwood and Lindsey Buckingham were both dating Stevie Nicks.

I only liked guys who liked guys, like Shaun Cassidy.

 Then, in January 1977, "Go Your Own Way" started playing on KSTT Radio.

You can go your own way, go your own way.
You can call it thunder, all the way.

It seemed like they were talking to me personally, telling me that it was ok to break away, follow your own path, and "call it thunder."

I "called it thunder" when I decided to go to college instead of taking a job in the factory, like my parents expected.

When I figured "it" out the summer after my high school graduation: we stop the fight right now, we got to be who we are.

When I rejected the "wife and kids" destiny everyone had plotted out for me, and found the freedom to love.

When I abandoned the Midwest for California.

When I decided to go back to graduate school and get a Ph.D.

You can go your own way, go your own way.
You can call it thunder, all the way.

 Whenever I hear the song today, it sends me back to my junior year at Rocky High, when everything was fresh and new and full of promise, when you could "go your own way" and "call it thunder."

Last night I heard the song at the gym, on the Classic Rock station they play in the free weight room.  I decided to do a blog post on the song that meant so much to me long ago.  So I looked up the lyrics online:

You can go your own way, go your own way.
You can call it another lonely day.

Another lonely day?  WTF?

It's not an anthem to self-awareness at all!  It's about breaking up with a lover, who is now packing up and going away, so it's "another lonely day."






For 40 years, I've been hearing the lyrics wrong.

Well, back to Shaun Cassidy.

Feb 26, 2017

A Student Invites Me to Share His Bunk Bed

Jamaica, New York, February 2000

In the spring of 2000, I was living in the East Village,  taking classes at Setauket University (two hours away) and teaching as an adjunct at Hofstra University (1 1/2 hours away), which took a little logistic planning.  Sometimes I spent the night with Yuri or a date to avoid going all the way back into Manhattan.

 That Thursday was one of my long days: up at 6, classes, teaching, gym, an hour train trip to Hofstra, teaching a three hour night class, and then an 1 1/2 hour train trip back to Manhattan.,

 By the time I got on the campus shuttle to the Hofstra train station at 9:30 pm, I was exhausted, and not looking forward to the next 1 1/2 hours.

Standing on the platform on a cold, snowy February night didn't help matters.

I wanted to doze or read.  I was in no mood for cruising or small talk.

No matter how cute the guy was.

So when Mason got on the train with me, I was not pleased.   He was one of the nondescript students in my introductory class last semester: a freshman, tall and thin, pale, with thick brown hair, glasses, a sharp nose, a weak chin, and acne.  Sort of cute, in a fresh-faced innocent way, but nothing spectacular.

He plopped down across from me and didn't say anything.  I saw a sizeable basket that I hadn't noticed in class.  Bratwurst, at least.

"Hi, Mason!" I said with my best smile.

"Hi, Mr. Davis," he said politely.  "Where you headed?"

"Penn Station.  "You?"

"Hey, me too!  I'm going to meet some friends at the Tunnel.  I've never been there before." 

A mixed gay-straight club on 12th Avenue, a few blocks from Penn Station.  Could Mason be gay?




The full story, with nude photos and sexual situations, is on Tales of West Hollywood.


10 Hunkiest Scrubs Patients, Part 1

I'm being forced to watch Scrubs (2001-2010), about medical interns at Sacred Heart Hospital, told from the point of view of nebbish medical intern J.D. (Zach Braff).  The rest of the main cast consist of two other interns (his best buddy and on-off girlfriend), two established doctors, and some nurses.

I usually keep my eyes on a book or computer screen, to avoid the gross medical procedures, people dying, the world's most annoying characters, and jaw-droppingly bad plotlines.

The one I saw last night had doctors actually disapproving of exercise!  Turk (Donald Faison) worries that he's getting a little pudgy from sitting on the couch every night, eating donuts with his girlfriend, so he begins to work out.  But then he realizes that guys who exercise, notably Dr. Cox (John C. McGinley), are pathetic losers who have no lives.  At the end of the episode, he "comes to his senses," abandons his exercise program, and returns to the couch to each donuts with his girlfriend.

That's right -- a medical program disapproves of exercise but approves of eating donuts!

But there is ample beefcake.  J.D. and Turk are shirtless more often than not, and there's a constant stream of hunky patients.  Some of them even live through the episode.

Here are the top 10 hunks of the first half of the series (Seasons 1-4), arranged in order of seriousness of their disease.

1. Sean Kelley (Scott Foley, top photo).  Irregular heartbeat.  Turns out to be a false alarm.

2. Will Forte (John Ducey). Tested for lung cancer.  Turns out to be negative.

3. Will Quinn (Michael Hagerty, left).  We don't learn what's wrong with him, but he makes Turk uncomfortable because he's gay.






4. Mr. Foster (Ron Ostrow), who drove his golf cart into a tree.

5. Mike (Jason-Shane Scott, left), who wrapped his car around a telephone poll.














6. Sam Thompson (Alexander Chaplin), a drug addict.

7. Ben Sullivan (Brendan Fraser, left). Leukemia. Survives.











8. Unnamed Patient (Paul Connor).  Coma, brain dead for two months, but wakes up in a Christmas miracle.

9.  David Morrison (Travis Wester, left).  Comes into the hospital with a hernia, but they find cancer.  Dies.













10. Jack Moyer (Adam Harrington).  Went into a coma just before his wedding. Dies.

See also: 10 Hunkiest Scrubs Patients, Part 2.