Saturday, April 22, 2017

Seeing a Father, Son, and Grandson Naked

Plains, April 2017

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.

The Geezer

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

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.

No gay connection!

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

Wednesday, April 19, 2017

Scott Baio's Hookup with His Cousin and the "Fantasy Island" Guy

Of all the gay rumors I heard about Scott Baio, the most outrageous was the alleged three-way he had with his cousin Jimmy Baio and older actor Ricardo Montalban.

I heard several different versions from several guys, but it all boils down to three basic plots:

Story 1:

It was 1977, and 17 year old Scott has just finished Blansky's Beauties, while 15 year old Jimmy had just finished with The Bad News Bears in Breaking Training.

Scott's father, a canny stage dad who knew his way around strategic casting couches, arranged an introduction to the dapper Mexican-born Ricardo Montalban, age 56, then filming the first episodes of the Saturday-night old-person's favorite Fantasy Island (1977-84).

Montalban had seen Jimmy in The Bad News Bears, and asked that he be included to "sweeten" the deal.

They met at a hotel in Hollywood.  My source went into detail about the sexual activity, but I won't repeat it here, since Scott and Jimmy were both underage.

Story #2

It was 1980, and Scott, age 20, was playing Fonzie's cousin Chachi on Happy Days, while Jimmy, age 18, was a bigger star, playing Billy Tate on Soap.  

59-year old Montalban, who was filming Fantasy Island at ABC's Burbank studio, was a fan of Soap, and sometimes came to watch rehearsals.  He and Jimmy, who was gay but closeted, soon began a romantic relationship.

When Scott heard about Montalban's proficiency in bed and enormous 10" penis, he begged Jimmy to let him watch.  Montalban agreed.

They met at Scott's house in Studio City.  After playing pool and drinking some wine coolers, they went into the bedroom, where Scott watched as Montalban and Jimmy kissed and fondled each other, then got undressed.

As Jimmy was going down on Montalban, he motioned for Scott to join them.  Scott eagerly got undressed.  His 6" was already aroused.

Montalban told them to kiss and rub their erections together, while he topped Scott.  But Scott couldn't take his penis, so Montalban changed his mind: he topped Jimmy while Scott was going down on him.

Then he ordered Scott to bring himself to orgasm while they watched.

The hookup was never repeated, and Jimmy and Montalban broke up a short time later.

Story #3:

It was 1984, and Scott, age 24, was starring in Charles in Charge, while Jimmy, age 22, was scrounging around for tv guest spots after the cancellation of Soap.

Jimmy often went to the cruising area in Griffith Park, and one day he saw the 63-year old Montalban there.  They had met several times, but neither knew the other was gay.

They went back to Montalban's house on Oriole Street in the Hollywood Hills and hooked up.

 Jimmy was an anal bottom, but this was during the AIDS crisis, so he confined himself to going down on Montalban's enormous penis, kissing, and interfemoral.

Montalban suggested BDSM activity in addition to vanilla sex.  Jimmy agreed, as long as his cousin Scott, who was well known as a BDSM bottom, came along.

They met at Montalban's house, which had a fully equipped BDSM dungeon.

Montalban forced them to strip and fondle each other.  Then he chained them together for light whipping and clothespins on their nipples and bellies.

Then Jimmy had to go down on Montalban while Scott remained fully aroused without touching himself.  If Scott lost his arousal, he would get spanked.

He got spanked.

Jimmy didn't like the BDSM scene, so it was never repeated.  He and Montalban broke up shortly thereafter.

Which Story is True?

Theoretically, all three: Scott has been the subject of many gay rumors, and Jimmy, who now lives in New York City and has never married, is probably gay.  Ricardo Montalban was a devout Catholic, married to his wife Georgina for over 60 years, with four children and no gay rumors that I can find.  But that doesn't mean he wasn't interested in occasional same-sex activity.

#1:  I find it very unlikely that the suave, sophisticated Montalban saw The Bad News Bears in Breaking Training.  And although I've heard about the casting-couch-pimping father before, Montalban seems an unlikely candidate: he had been in many minor movies and tv shows, but was not particularly famous, and was in no position to advance Scott's career.

#3: Scott has been the subject of BDSM rumors, and the details of Montalban's residence and penis size are accurate.  But Montalban was living with his wife and his youngest son Vic at the time.  It is unlikely that he had a BDSM dungeon in his basement.

#2: Sounds most realistic.  By 1980, Montalban knew Scott and Jimmy from their guest spot on a May 13, 1979 episode of Fantasy Island (Jimmy guest starred by himself on an October 31, 1981 episode).  A studio meeting makes more sense than a cruising area. If any of them is true (and they may all be pure fabrications), this one is.

See also: The Top 10 Rumors about Scott Baio; Scott Baio and the Hard Master.

The Boyfriend of William the Conquerer

My ancestor was the boyfriend of William the Conqueror

Every schoolkid learns about the Battle of Hastings in 1066, when William, Duke of Normandy, defeated the English and became William I (Guillaume le Conquérant).  It was a pivotal moment in world history.

That's why over 30% of the words in the English language derive from French, often more elegant equivalents to Anglo-Saxon terms:


William was born in 1028, the bastard son of Robert I, Duke of Normandy.  When he ascended to the throne in 1035, his youth and illegitimacy caused a great deal of dissent.  Various nobles sought to control the boy by becoming his guardian.  The first three were all murdered, one while in William's bedroom.

Other nobles tried to kill the young William and take over the throne.  On more than one occasion he had to flee the castle at Falaise and hide in the homes of his supporters.

In 1046, an army led by Guy of Burgundy stormed Falaise, and 18-year old William had to flee to England, where he stayed with Henry I.

He tried to return secretly in 1047, but shortly after he came ashore at Caen, he was accosted by an armed band, and almost killed.

He was rescued by Ralph (Ranulphus de Praers), the 18-year old son of Baron Hubert de Rie (1005-1086), who took him to his father's castle in Rie (or Rye).  Ralph and his two brothers, Hubert and Adam, then escorted William to Falaise, about 45 miles away.

Ralph remained William's constant companion for the next twenty years, as he consolidated his power and forced the dissenting dukes into exile.

In 1066, King Edward the Confessor of England died without an heir, leading to a power struggle between English, French, and Norwegian claimants.  King Harold defeated his brother Tostig Godwinson and the Norwegian King Harald Hadrada, but was weakened sufficiently to allow William and his allies to storm into England and take over.

Yeah, it wasn't really the "freedom from tyranny!" thing that we prefer in our heroes.

After the Battle of Hastings, Ralph and his brothers received lands in Nottingham, Derby, Norfolk, Suffolk, and Kent constituting about 5% of all Anglo-Saxon England.

Ralph was so loyal to William that he didn't marry until about 1080, when he was 58 years old, quite elderly for the Middle Ages.

His descendants were the De Praers.  About 1450, they started calling themselves Praters.  Thomas Prater moved to Virginia in 1622.  His descendants moved to Maryland, then Kentucky, then Indiana, where I was born in 1960.

My Grandpa Prater was descended from the boyfriend of William the Conqueror.

So, were they actually lovers?

It's impossible to say.  They were lifelong friends.  Harold gave him a ridiculously large share of the conquest.  He didn't marry until he was an old man.  But any more intimate relationship is lost to history.

The Castle Rie or Rye is lost, too, although the town of Ryes, population 500, is still there.  It's only a 15 minute drive from the Musée de la Tapisserie in Bayeux.

And a 30 minute drive from the Sauna Arc en Ciel in Caen.

Tuesday, April 18, 2017

Kissing a Boy at the Bell Tower

Rock Island, March 1981

When I was in college, Bruce and I and some other English-philosophy-modern language majors hung out at a little bookstore off the student union. The manager, Adam Horowitz (picture is not him), was older, perhaps twenty-five, taut and muscular, surprisingly tanned, with an open, expressive movie-star face.  Not at all the sort of person you'd expect to spend his life selling science fiction novels.

Once an English major, he was expelled halfway through his junior year after a scandal that no one would talk about.  With no degree, no job, and nowhere to go, he got some faculty allies to help him open his little bookstore.

What scandal?  A same-sex affair, perhaps?  I asked Dr. Burton, the gay professor who held the infamous Handcuff Parties, but he didn't know

It made sense: Adam never dated girls, or talked about girls.  Actually, he never said much about his personal life at all.  It sounded like the hesitations, dissimulations, and omissions that gay people made in the Midwest in the 1980s to avoid revealing their "secret."  

But there was only one way to find out for sure: get him alone, and then zoom in for a kiss!  It worked with Fred, my boyfriend last year.

On a cold, drizzling Friday afternoon in March 1981, the campus was nearly deserted.  I had been alone in the bookstore for nearly an hour, studying Paleontology on the green couch by the western window, while Adam sat on his stool reading the underground Zap Comix.  This was a perfect opportunity!

“I'm heading over to the Comics Cave," I said in a tentative voice.  "Why don't you come along?  I don't think you're going to get any more customers today."

Adam stared at me in shock, as if I had suggested skinny-dipping in the pond behind Old Main.  "Um...sure, why not?" he said finally.  He wrapped on his coat and locked up the store, and we walked out into the blustery gray afternoon.  He talked nonstop about R. Crumb and Steve Ditko, and then of Little Nemo who explored Dreamland in the newspaper comics of a century ago, as if he couldn’t bear a moment of silence.

He was really nervous!  That must mean he was gay!

In back of East Hall, the path forked, left toward the Bell Tower and right up the heavily wooded ridge to 38th Street. Adam paused.

“Have you heard the secret of Bell Tower?” he asked.
“I don't know.  I’ve heard a lot of secrets since I came to Augie.”

“The Fratboys bring their dates there, because if you kiss a virgin under the bell, it rings. Thus notifying everybody up in Andreasson Hall that she is 99.99% pure.” He gestured toward the freshman girls’ dorm on the ridge.

"Cool!  Let's check it out -- I've never seen it up close before."

"Um..ok, I guess."  We turned away from the path, crossed the wet grass, and stood under the Bell Tower with its graffiti-blackened benches where Fratboys and their girlfriends kissed. It was very damp, and smelled of sawdust and brine.

“Did the bell ring for any of your....dates...when you were a student?”  I asked, deliberately avoiding the word "girl."

"Um..well, actually I never got a chance. It’s really sort of Fratboys’ turf. They have dibs on all Augie babes.  I was  a Head Case -- an English major."

"So you never heard the bell ring?  That's a pity."  I pressed my hand hard against his shoulder. I saw that he was beginning to blush.

But at that moment a professor appeared, trundling down from the ridge: short, balding, round as a goblin in a yellow slicker raincoat, with an umbrella shoved under his arm like a stage sword and a bulging briefcase at his side. I recognized him: Dr. Dahlquist, who taught American literature and journalism.

He flashed an odd, alarmed look at me, then at Adam. We said “H’lo” politely, but he brushed past us and walked on quickly, almost trotting, to East Hall.

Adam stopped and stared at his retreating form. The snub obviously bothered him.  I wondered if Dr. Dahlquist discovered Adam at the Bell Tower before, on another lazy Friday afternoon many years ago. I wondered who was kissing him then.

"Um...ok, you've seen the Bell Tower.  Do you mind if we take your car?"  He walked briskly toward the south, toward the student parking lot.  We drove to the Comics Cave and bought a few comic books, but he refused my offer of a milkshake at the Belgian Village.  He had a headache, he said.

I asked Adam for out for comic books several more times, but he was always "too busy."

Was he gay, and scared?  Or straight, and scared?  I had no idea.

Sunday, April 16, 2017

Hookup from Hell on the Plains

Plains, April 2017

I thought all the crazies were back in Hell-fer-Sartain, Texas in 1984.

It was my fault: the guy had no profile picture on Grindr, the photo he sent me was a penis only, and his profile said "I'm Up for Anything," definite warning signs.

And I skimped on the interview: his name was Brett, he was 23, ok with no anal, and "you going to invite me over or what?"

But I was mad because a hookup failed to show up earlier after endless emails going back and forth, so I thought "Why not?  He's hung."

The Hookup from Hell

First Brett goes to the wrong building. Then when I direct him to the right building, he can't find the front entrance, and I have to go downstairs and fetch him.

He's slimmer, paler, and younger than the buffed guy in the photo, AND he won't shake hands.

He stares at the building.  "This place is pretty big.  Does anybody know you're...?"

"Some of them.  Why?"

"Don't talk to me or look at me.  Just walk to your apartment, and I'll follow."

A 23 year old in 2017, as skittish as a pre-Stonewall closet queen?  Weird!  But I'm in it this far....

Brett comes into my apartment and looks around.  "Are we alone?  Is anybody else here?"

"  Why?"

Great, he's going to rob me!  But I'm three times his size!  

"Just making sure.  Got any wine?"

"No, I have Diet Coke, orange juice, and cranberry juice."

"No, thanks.  Let's just go in the bedroom."

I lead him into the bedroom and start kissing and fondling him.  He says "I'm really nervous" and breaks away.

Mr. "Up for Anything" is nervous?

"Ok, let's talk for awhile." .I sit him on the bed and put my arm around him.  "Where are you from?"

"[Small town nearby]. I'm only 15."


I remove my arm.  "Ok.  Let's go online and find you some gay youth groups."

"I'm not 15, I'm 23.  I just wanted to see how you would react."

 I'd better card this jerk.  "Can I see your id?"

He shows me.  Nineteen.  So he's lied twice...

"Have you ever been with a guy before?" he asks.


"Who?  Show me their pictures."

I'm getting tired of this guy, but I take out my phone and show him some pictures.

"He's young.  You like young guys?"


"You got a wife?"

", remember?  I have a boyfriend."

"Does he care if you do things with other guys?"

"No.  We even do things together."

"Call him.  Invite him here."

He's really making me work for it!  "Sorry, my boyfriend is at work."

"Well, call another guy you been with, have him come over here for a three way."

"Why don't you call one of the guys you've been with?" I counter.

"You want to have a three way with my girlfriend?"  Brett asks, grinning.

Girlfriend?  "No!  Gay, remember?"  I put my arm around him again.  "What's wrong with just the two of us?"

"Nothing, I guess. So, you got $20 for gas?"

Great, now he's a hustler!  "Sorry, I never pay for hustlers."

"Hustler?" Brett repeats.  "What's that?"

"Paying for sex."

He brightens, as if the idea has just occurred to him.  "That's right.  You want some of my cock, you got to pay me $20."

"No, no, you can't say it like that.  It's illegal -- you could get arrested.  You have to phrase it like 'can you lend me some money?'"

" want some of my cock, you got to lend me some money."  He begins fondling himself.

"You going to show me the merchandise first?"

Brett pulls it out.  Aroused, maybe five inches.

"I don't know, that's pretty small," I tell him.  "Hustlers should have big cocks."

"It gets bigger."

"Let me get my mouth on it, and we'll see."  I reach over to fondle it.  He puts it back in his pants.

Enough is enough.  "Ok, well, it's been nice chatting, but I have a lot to do today."

He laughs.  "You do not!  You're just mad 'cause I won't let you go down on me."

"Well, yeah.  I invited you here for sex, and instead I get a bunch of underage, bisexual three-way, and hustler nonsense,  It's been..interesting, but time for you to go."

He gets up and heads out into the hallway.  I follow, to make sure he doesn't steal anything on the way out.

"You don't have to escort me out."

I stand in the foyer, watching him.

Brett walks toward the door, then turns back, puts his arms around me, and kisses me.  A long, deep, passionate kiss.

I break away, and check to make sure my wallet is still there.

"Just a taste of what you're missing out on, Fool."

And he is gone.

See also: The Worst Date in Ohio History; Dates from Hell.; My Hookup with the Bodybuilder Goes Wrong.

Will the Bondage Boy Hooks Up with Peter Fonda

West Hollywood, April 1993

Every year Lane's mother Rosa hosted a huge Passover seder.  Her house on Crescent Heights was packed with relatives from New York, friends from Temple Beth El, employees, neighbors, and minor celebrities.  I went twice as Lane's roommate or boyfriend (depending on who asked).

Rosa died last year, so Lane has the responsibility of hosting.  Fifty people will never fit into our small two-bedroom apartment, so he's paring down last year's guest list, deleting Rosa's old housekeeper, the great-uncle that he only saw once a year, crotchety neighbors, and the elderly ladies from the Hadassah League.

"What do you think?" Lane asks.  "Should we keep Jane and Peter Fonda?"

I look over his shoulder at the guest list: Jane Fonda and Ted Turner. Peter and Portia Fonda.  "Rosa knew them?"

"Sure. They met when Jane's husband Tom Hayden was running for Senate. She's been to seder several times, [Her brother] Peter only once that I can remember, but Mom invited them every year."

The 1960s counterculture heroes sitting down to Passover dinner with Lane's elderly, kugel-baking mother?   It seemed bizarre.  But, I remembered, Rosa's politics were very liberal.  When she was younger, she wrote for a radical Zionist newspaper.

"Should I continue the tradition?  It means four table settings, and they probably won't come.

"Go for it.  I'd like to meet them."

A few days later, at lunch with Will the Bondage Boy, I mention the Jane and Peter Fonda guest list.

"Can I get an invitation?" he asks.  "It would be fun to see Peter Fonda again.  I wonder if he remembers our trick."  [Trick was our word for a hookup.]

"You tricked with the star of Easy Rider?  Why haven't you told this story before?  You always tell about Keanu Reeves."

He shrugs.  "Nothing to tell.  We tricked, the end.  A jealous-lover bondage fantasy with Keanu Reeves is much more interesting."

"I'll be the judge of that."

Tijuana, April 1978

Will was 20 years old, a sophomore at Occidental College, a Cute Young Thing ready for action.  This was before the fear of AIDS shut down all the bathhouses in Los Angeles, but he was afraid to go to them, lest someone from school see him and have him expelled.  So one weekend he and a friend went to a bathhouse in Tijuana, a seedy affair with musty showers, damp corridors, and leering drug-addled downlow men.

Will recognized Peter Fonda immediately.  He didn't find him particularly attractive: pushing 40, tall and thin, with a receding hairline, a long face, and a Tom Selleck moustache.  But who would turn down the chance to trick with Captain America of Easy Rider, whose homoerotic buddy-bonding gave the 11-year old Will his first glimpse of gay potential?

They went back to his room and collapsed onto the seedy, stained mattress, fondling but not kissing.  Peter went down on Will, but he was too star-struck and couldn't concentrate enough to get aroused.  After awhile, he gave up and moved to go down on Peter.

 Peter was enormous beneath the belt, a good 9", and thick as a beer can.  Will could only manage to get his mouth around the head; the shaft took two hands.  Still, Peter was impressed, groaning, whispering "Oh, yeah, that's great!  Feels great!"

He finished with a monumental spurt and, sweating and out of breath, drew Will into a hug -- still no kissing.  "That was outta sight!  Do you live in L.A.? If you have a place where we could crash, we could make this a regular thing."

"Sure, I have a place," Will said, thinking of his dorm room.  He could put a tie on the door handle to signal to his roommate that he was having a "girl" over.

"But don't tell your friends about me, ok?  I have a reputation of being a macho action hero, and I don't need any rumors ruining it."


Peter wrote his telephone number on a piece of paper and handed it to Will, then dressed and left.

West Hollywood, April 1993

"I felt like I should call, just because he was such a big star," Will says.  "But he wasn't that cute, and he wasn't that good in bed, so I gave it a miss.  I'm probably the only guy in history to dump a celebrity after the first date."

"No, I've done that, too,"  I say.

"See?  Not nearly as interesting as Keanu Reeves.  The only interesting part was his 9", and I've been with bigger guys since."

Will gets his invitation to the Passover seder.  The Fondas don't come, but Lane gives him Peter's address and telephone number from Rosa's address book.   I don't know what happened after that.

Was Will telling the truth?

1. Most celebrity dating and hookup stories make the the celebrity gorgeous, and the sex energetic and passionate.  Making Peter unattractive and the sex mediocre gives Will's story a ring of truth.

2. But being starstruck over Peter Fonda rings false.  He's not a big star.  During the 1970s and 1980s he starred mostly in car-chase actioners like Race with the Devil and The Cannonball Run.  In 1978 his only movie role was High Ballin', a Canadian attempt to cash in on the trucker craze, with Peter driving, brawling, and picking up a girl conveniently named Pickup.

3. Peter has been married to women three times, and has two children, Justin and Bridget.  He was with his second wife, Portia, from 1975 to 2011.

4. He's a gay ally.  He claims that he chose a black motorcycle jacket for Easy Rider to become an icon in the gay community.

See also: Will and Scott Have a Wild Night with Keanu Reeves; 21 Surprising Facts About Lane


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