But only one is a Facebook friend today: Christopher Atkins
West Hollywood, June 1994
In the spring of 1994, our 20-year old ex-juvenile delinquent friend Infinite Chazz began dating Kris, a 19-year old baby-faced ginger boy who had been in Los Angeles less than a year, but had already been in some movies and tv shows.
You might know him as Kristoffer Winters, who played the Zilbor in Dude, Where's My Car (2000) and Clayton Gallagher in Shameless (2011-2012), and who is reputedly the boyfriend of Jeremy Renner.
Renner could do worse -- Kristoffer won the "biggest penis" prize at one of our parties.
Not much of a physique, but hung to his ankles.
Kris had just landed his first starring role, in what turned out to be a very bad Smokey and the Bandits rip-off called Smoke n Lightnin, about two auto mechanics named, naturally, Smoke and Lightnin (no g), who get involved in a caper involving car chases and girls.
"It's not exactly King Lear," he admitted, "But it could lead to bigger things. And you'll never guess who my costar is -- Christopher Atkins! I had such a crush on him when I was a kid!"
We all had a crush on Christopher Atkins when he played a boy growing up on a desert island in The Blue Lagoon (1980) -- a thoroughly heterosexist movie famous for several nude frontal shots of the tanned young actor.
More movies with frontal nudity followed, notably A Night in Heaven (1983), about a male stripper, plus a story arc on Dallas (1983-84).
Christopher's star had waned a bit -- for the last ten years, he had appeared mostly in sleazy, low-budget productions like Mortuary Academy and Bandit Goes Country. -- and Smoke and Lightnin. But what actor wouldn't jump at the chance to work with such an iconic star?
And maybe get a glimpse of the most famous penis of the 1980s.
It was a low budget movie -- three weeks of shooting at a real auto repair shop in the San Fernando Valley and a house in Mission Viejo, and then off to Florida for two weeks of shooting the Miami locations and car-chase stunts.
But he turned out to be very friendly, very gay-positive. He knew about Infinite Chazz -- even about the nickname "Infinite" -- and asked about the date of the Gay Pride Festival, as if he intended to come.
The day after they wrapped up in Los Angeles, Christopher hosted a picnic in Griffith Park for the cast and crew and their families. Infinite Chazz couldn't make it, and Lane was in San Francisco, so Kris invited me to be his "date."
"I don't want to be the only gay guy there," he explained. "But play it cool -- I'm not out at work. Only Christopher and Mike [Michael Kirton, the director] know."
I had already met Christopher Atkins, I hate eating outside, and I really hate hanging out with heterosexual nuclear families, fielding questions about girlfriends and the bodaciousness of this or that actress, watching boy-girl pairs making out and kids screaming and tugging at each other.
But no doubt Kris would show his gratitude by inviting me over to "share."
Did I mention, hung to his ankles?
There were no big stars at the picnic, and very little beefcake, a lot of fat good-old-boy types with their wives and toddler kids.
After lunch we all scattered, some to play tetherball, some to watch the kids, some to go hiking.
Kris nudged me. "I'm tired of all this heterosexualizing. Let's go find a secluded spot and make out."
Make out? I grinned. That could just mean kissing and groping -- but, in a few minutes, I could be going down on him!
But then Christopher was beside us. "You guys going hiking?" he asked.
I glared at him. "Um...yes."
"Great, I'm up for anything."
Not anything, I bet.
We had gone about a mile up the trail, when Christopher said "Excuse me, got to drain the lizard." He left the trail and stood by a tree and unzipped.
This was my chance to see the most famous penis of the 1980s -- and to get even with Christopher for spoiling my make-out session. I came up beside him, said "Is this tree taken?," and unzipped and glanced over. Not very big, but....a sausage sighting of Christopher Atkins!
I tried to urinate. Stage fright. Nothing happened.
Christopher grinned. "You just wanted to see it, didn't you?"
"No -- I...er, have to go."
"Don't be embarrassed -- I get it all the time. That's why I started charging. $10 for a peek, $20 for a grope."
"Sure." He zipped up.
Darn! He was joking!
I never got to go down on Kris. When we got back from Spain later that month, he and Infinite Chazz had broken up.
But I'm still Facebook friends with Christopher Atkins (and his son, Grant Bomann).
See also: Nude Photos of Christopher Atkins; Infinite Chazz Hooks Up with Mark-Paul Goesselaer.