Kicking Out Ronald Reagan's Lover

West Hollywood, September 1988

For gay people in the 1980s,  West Hollywood was a sacred site, a Mecca free from the homophobia and other injustices of the straight-dominated world.  Everyone visited at least once, often for an extended period as they tried to find some way to stay.

When you were lucky enough to live in West Hollywood, your phone kept ringing, as gay men you hadn't talked to for ten years suddenly remembered that you were  close friends and dangled for an invitation.

Still, it was a surprise, in August 1988, to answer the telephone and hear "Boomer, darling!  How are you!"

It was Oscar, the retired set designer from Des Moines.  My first boyfriend Fred and I spent a couple of hours with him back in 1980, and that was it.  A very tenuous connection!

"Darling, I'm making the plunge -- I'm finally going to come out and visit West Hollywood.  And I want to see you in particular!"

"Um...what about Fred?"  He had moved to Pomona in the San Gabriel Valley with his boyfriend Matt.

"Oh, I'll be visiting him, too, but he lives so far away, and he has such a tiny apartment, whereas you have such a big house."

How did he know that?  "I'm just renting a room from Derek...."

"Whatever.  Would it be ok if I stay with you?  Just for a few days.  Or a week.  Two or three weeks, tops."

I couldn't think of any reason why not.  I tried.

Derek said it was ok, but he needed the guest room for another visitor, so Oscar would have to stay in my room.  In my bed.

Which means he would expect...you know.  In West Hollywood culture, it would be impolite to refuse. Particularly when you were sharing a bed.

As you know, I am attracted to guys who are dark-skinned, shorter than me, and muscular or husky.  Oscar was tall, thin, and pale.

Plus:
1. Feminine.  Lots of guys in West Hollywood were attracted to guys with feminine traits.  But I wasn't. Rings, ascots, perfume, overmodulated voices, undulating limbs -- instant turn-offs.

2.  And 73.  I was often attracted to older guys.  When I was 20, I dated a 40-ish college professor.  But an age difference of 46 years?  A little much!

But what can you do?  He was coming.

One Friday in early September, Fred, Matt, and I picked Oscar up at LAX, carried his dozen suitcases to my house, and took him out to dinner and back to my place.  Then they scrammed back to the San Gabriel Valley, leaving Oscar gazing at me in expectation.

"The bedroom is over here," I told him.  "I'm just getting over a cold, so it wouldn't be a good idea to do anything tonight."

The "gettinv over a cold" ploy lasted for about three days.  Then I devoted about a week to a whirlwind of sightseeing, everywhere from the LaBrea Tar Pits to the Toy Tiger, a Silverlake bar for older guys.  I didn't enjoy being mistaken for Oscar's grandson or a hustler all the time, but the ploy worked: every night, Oscar was so exhausted that the moment we got into bed, he fell asleep.

But sooner or later, he would be wide awake and ready for...you know.

"How long do you think you'll be able to stay?" I asked over breakfast.

"Oh, darling, I'm as free as a bird.  I can stay until spring!"

Great! I went out and applied for a job in Turkey.

Maybe I could find him a boyfriend to move in with?  Or claim to have a kinky fetish?

Then I remembered Oscar's story of dating future president Ronald Reagan, when they were both working for WHO Radio in Des Moines, back in 1936.

Reagan happened to be in town, campaigning for George H.W. Bush (who was running for president in 1988) and reuniting with old friends.  I knew someone who worked for Attorney General John Van De Camp, a long-time gay rights advocate: a tenuous connection, but it mighit work.

I ran into the living room, where Oscar was reading Frontiers.  "Guess what!  You might be getting a reunion with your old boyfriend, Ronald Reagan!  The Attorney General's assistant is arranging it!"

He turned pale.  "Ronald Reagan? How did you...."

"We just have to pretend to be straight.  You know, Reagan's a big homophobe nowadays."

He exhaled sharply.  "Oh, no, my dear, it would be too painful after all these years. Pretending that we didn't mean anything to each other.  Oh, no, it would be dreadful.  I couldn't abide it."

"Are you sure?  I mean, a party with the President..."

That afternoon he packed his suitcases and called Fred to pick him up.  He spent the rest of his vacation in the San Gabriel Valley.

I'm still not sure if Oscar really dated Ronald Reagan or not.

Reagan was out of office a few months later, but for years I got rid of unwanted houseguests by offering to introduce them to the ex-President.   He wasn't very popular among gay people.

See also: Fred Hooks Up with Ronnie Reagan