I see the Geezer in the gym a couple of times a week: in his 70s, tall, ugly, and out of shape, with thin arms, no chest, and a sagging belly. He never lifts weights or does cardio; he hangs around the pool and sauna, reads newspapers in the lounge, and talks to his buddies about the deadly dull things heterosexuals talk about, the game last night and the bathroom remodeling and the new job of the grandson.
I could not be less interested.
But one day we were stripping down at the same time, and I got a nice view of his penis.
Horse-hung! A good 5" soft, uncut, veiny, as thick as a beer can. It must be a thick 10" aroused.
The best sausage sighting ever!
And, I thought, the Geezer must have had a lifetime of admirers, men and women who wanted his penis, and more, who wanted the person he was before bitterness, disappointment, poor health, and the awareness of his mortality dimmed his days and nights.
So I struck up a conversation, said I was doing research on the older guys who went to the gym (which was true), and looked for a gay connection in the Geezer's biography. Later I did some online research.
In 1964, the Geezer was a University of Nebraska jock named Dave, a farmboy from a small town near Lincoln.
He was on the swim team, and won some awards. Swimming was a lifelong passion.
There must have been homoerotic hijinks in college. Frat parties, late night bull sessions, romantic friendships.
The Geezer didn't mention any particular close friends.
He graduated in 1964, but was never part of the youth counterculture. Quiet, driven, conservative, he went to work for Mutual of Omaha, the insurance company. He married his college sweetheart, and had two sons and a daughter.
Was he sneaking into the gay bars, or going to the tea rooms?
We were neighbors! Dave was living in Omaha in 1980, when I moved there with my first boyfriend Fred. A 38-year old householder with a wife and three children.
But our paths never crossed.
Apparently nothing else happened. A life of heterosexual monotony. House, job, vacations, holidays, kids' piano recitals, watching them, one at a time, marry and leave the house.
He retired in 2007, and moved to the Plains to be close to his grown daughter.
"What about your sons?" I asked.
"The oldest got a job in marketing. He lives in Des Moines. The other wanted to be an actor or a model or some such nonsense, so he moved to California. We see him maybe once a year."
My gaydar perked up. That was my story, too, fleeing from the cage of heteronormative expectations -- wife, job, house, kids -- for the freedom of West Hollywood. Maybe this was the Geezer's gay connection!
The Geezer's Son, Rich, was not hard to track down. I told him I knew his father on the Plains, and we lived in L.A. at the same time, so he was happy to reminisce.
Rich graduated from the University of Nebraska with a degree in dramatic arts in 1988, and immediately moved to Los Angeles. He did some bodybuilding work, and some modeling and commercials.
In 1988 I was living in Los Angeles, and working for Muscle and Fitness. Had our paths crossed?
No. He never appeared in Muscle and Fitness. He never posed for Mandate, or Advocate Men. He never went to the Rage, or Basgo's, or the French Quarter, or Gay Pride Festivals.
Rich is straight.
But...he did pose for Playgirl in the early 1990s. You can see his photo on the Adonis Men database: heavily muscled, flexing, his dark, thick penis hanging down, a good 5" soft.
He inherited his dad's beneath-the-belt gifts!
The Geezer's Son married in 1993, and abandoned his dreams of stardom. He and his wife moved to Phoenix, Arizona, where he went to work in real estate They had two sons and a daughter.
Nothing else happened. Like his father, the Geezer's Son has lived a life of heterosexual monotony, with houses, yards, dogs, vacations, kids' piano recitals and football games and high school graduations. He just celebrated his 50th birthday.
Um...maybe the Geezer's grandsons?
Rich's oldest son got married right out of high school, and now has a job in construction, a house, a wife, and two kids, aged four and two.
The other is going to Augustana College in Rock Island!
My alma mater! But why did he pick a small Lutheran college 2000 miles from home?
"I couldn't tell you," the Geezer says. "Maybe to be near family -- he's got cousins there."
"What is he majoring in?"
"Oh, music or some such nonsense. He's a dreamer, like his father. Wanted to be a pop star like...what's her name...Adele?"
My gaydar goes off.
More after the break
It wasn't hard to track down the Geezer's Grandson, 21-year old Aiden. I told him I grew up in Rock Island, and knew his father, and he agreed to a meeting. Last weekend I drove down to Rock Island and introduced him to my childhood favorite, Harris Pizza.
Aiden was shorter and slimmer than his father, but still quite well built. Some of his Facebook photos showed him tanned from the Arizona sun, but in real life, after nearly a year in the Midwest, he was rather pale. Handsome, though, with thick black hair, sharp features, and prominent eyebrows.
He was walking the same campus that I walked 30 years ago. Did he go to the gay bars, Connections and Mary's? Did he cruise on the levee? Did he post pictures of himself on Grindr?
He wasn't majoring in music, although he did perform in the Augustana Glee Club. He was majoring in business.
And he had a girlfriend.
Straight!
But he knew about my blog!
"My friend Tyler loves it! Reading about your hookups here in Rock Island, but way before we were born! And out in California, in disco era! We try to figure out who the guys are, like I think your Celebrity Boyfriend is Scott Baio. Am I right?"
"No, actually it's Peter Barton."
"Oh...ok, never heard of him." He leant in conspiratorily. "So, are you doing a blog post about my Dad? Did you, like, hook up in California?"
"No, but I did see him naked. I'm comparing the penis sizes of the men in your family."
He grined. "No kidding? How does my Dad measure up?"
"7.5 inches aroused" It's actually more like 10 inches, but I don't want to intimidate the boy.
"I can do better than that! I'll send you a pic -- just, don't put it on your blog, ok?
Awhile later, Aiden texted me a nude selfie. Enormous penises definitely run in his family: very thick, cut, about 5" soft.
This isn't him.
No gay connection, but I'm probably the only person alive who has had sausage sightings of father, son, and adult grandson..
That's got to count for something.
See also: My Date with Two Brothers and Their Dad
And here I thought your "closeted celebrity boyfriend" was still a big secret. Or maybe I've just been reading your blog out of order?
ReplyDeleteMaybe I was lying about his identity
DeleteHaha. So can you imagine a scenario where we do learn his identity?
ReplyDeleteOk, so it was Peter Barton. We only dated for a few months, and I've been with more famous guys, so it wasn't a big deal. When I needed a celebrity story back in West Hollywood, I generally turned my lunch with Michael J. Fox into a three-way hookup.
Delete