Saturday, June 17, 2017
Friday, June 16, 2017
Every year my father celebrated his birthday by hosting a barbecue for his family and friends, held on the Saturday afternoon closest to June 6th. I always tried to schedule my summer visit to Rock Island (up to 1995) or Indianapolis (after 1995) to coincide with it.
Dad died last year, so I assumed that the barbecues were over, until I got a Facebook Instant Message from my sister's son, Joseph, age 27, a doctoral student in Central Asian Languages, at Indiana University.
"I'm continuing Grandpa's tradition of Memorial Day Barbecues at my house. Can you make it? I want to talk to you about something."
"Sure, no problem," I responded, curious. What could he want to talk about. Maybe he wanted to come out!
Even though Joseph married a girl named Jan five years ago, I still think he's gay, or at least bi.
He's flamboyant and theatrical, swishing and limp-wristed, with that nasal "gay accent" voice. He wears bright pastel shirts and tight bulging jeans and plastic bracelets.
Yes, I got a sausage sighting: average, cut.
He belongs to an LGBT news group on Facebook, and he drove his Dad's vintage 1969 car in the Indianapolis Gay Pride Parade.
Definitely coming out. Or -- had he turned fundamentalist, and wanted to quote Leviticus at me?
And I brought along David from San Francisco for moral support -- an ex-Baptist minister with a master's degree in Classics, an expert on the Biblical passages used to promote homophobia.
We arrived on Wednesday and saw my mother and my sister and brother-in-law, but not Joseph, not until Saturday afternoon, the barbecue: hot dogs and hamburgers grilled in the back yard of Joseph's 100-year old house on the South Side of Indianapolis.
How did they afford it, when he was a graduate teaching assistant, and she worked in a museum?
We said hello to Joseph and gave him a gift, then pushed our way through the crowd, saying hello, getting introduced. I counted over 20 adults, plus kids: Joseph and Jan's parents and grandparents, uncles and aunts, cousins. All relatives, all heterosexual as far as I could tell -- with one exception.
A young guy on the far side of the yard, talking to Jan. Shorter than me, dark-skinned, square head with heavy eyebrows and a big smile, a v-shaped torso, a hard smooth chest with prominent nipples, a little belly, and heavy, square workman's hands.
"Dibs," I whispered to David, and walked over to introduce myself and cruise him. Heavily.
Then Joseph grabbed me. "Uncle Boomer! Can I talk to you for a second. Without David?"
He took me onto the screen porch.
Uh, oh -- this is it! I thought. He's either going to come out or pull out a Bible!
"Uh -- no,"
"Ok, good. I didn't expect you to bring anyone...um...so I got a date for you."
"What?" A blind date?
"I know what it's like to feel out of place at these family gatherings, so I invited Ravi, from Kazakhstan. He's just come out, and looking to meet people. And he likes older guys." He grabbed my knee. "I got you tickets to a dance concert tonight -- but I didn't know David would be here, so I just got two."
"Oh, no problem, he sounds great."
Kazakh, the language spoken by the Turkic tribes that descended on Central Asia a thousand years ago:
I like to eat big sausages.
Turkish: Büyük sosisleri severim
Kazakh:Men ülken şujıq jewge unaydı
"But won't David feel left out?"
Apparently Joseph had never heard of the gay community custom of "sharing." It's not common on a first date, but not unheard-of.
Ravi (real name Ravil) turned out to be in engineering, not in Central Asian Languages: 23 years old, in the U.S. only about a year. He always knew that he liked guys, but only acknowledged that he was gay a few months ago. He reminded me of Yuri. He had never met any older gay men before, and peppered us with questions about how we came out, how we formed romantic relationships, if we ever wanted to get married and have kids, if we knew any gay Muslims.
When we got back to the apartment, David and Tyler were already asleep, so we took the guest room.
Ravi was very passionate, into kissing and fondling, with a very thick cut Bratwurst. I went down on him until he spurted, then moved into the interfemoral position, which he had never done before.
In the morning Tyler -- but not David -- joined us. I went down on them both while they were kissing, then fondled Tyler's testicles while they moved into the 69 position. Then Ravi went down on me while Tyler pushed into my mouth.
David interrupted us. "Hey, I hate to ruin the party...." He reached out and fondled Ravi.
"No, it's ok, join us," Ravi said. "I would love your cock in my ass."
"Sounds tempting, but no time. We should get going if we're going to make it to church. I'm be waiting in the living room."
Ravi seemed a little put-out by David's reluctance. He let me go down on him until he finished, then quickly dressed and left. When I called later, he claimed to be too busy to get together again.
But I got to hook up with a beautiful guy from Central Asia, and hear the Kazakh language!
Later I instant messaged Joseph: "Thanks for introducing me to Ravi. He was very nice. Too bad we won't have time to see each other again before I leave Indianapolis."
"You're leaving soon?" Joseph responded. "But we never had a chance to talk."
I thought Ravi was the talk! "Ok, I have some time this afternoon."
Coming out, finally? Suggesting a three way with Ravi?
"I have a job offer at the University of Amsterdam," Joseph said. "I know you go there every year, so I wanted to ask your advice about living there."
See also: Is My Nephew Gay?; Tatar Boys; David Has Sex with 5,000 Guys; and The Best Friend of Terry the Homophobe:
Wednesday, June 14, 2017
David is the only guy I know who still uses the telephone instead of texting -- a good way to put you on the spot!
"I've got a couple of weeks off in June," he said. "I'd like to fly out and visit you on the Plains."
Gulp! David from San Francisco, on the Plains? I had enough trouble trying to entertain Yuri, when he visited a couple of years ago! And David has a requirement that Yuri doesn't....
"Sure, that would be great," I said, trying not to hesitate. "It's been three years since we saw each other last, and I think it's your turn to visit me. Except..."
Except cruising opportunities here on the Plains are limited, especially during the summer, when all of the students have gone home. Especially when you're 64 years old. I might not be able to provide enough hookups to meet your quota!
And, in gay communities, it's polite for you to provide the sexual entertainment for your guests.
"Except that I'm scheduled to be visiting my family in Indianapolis the weekend of June 6th," I explain. "Maybe you could fly in there. Believe me, there are a lot more fun things to do [more places to cruise] in Indianapolis than in a small town on the Plains!"
"Sure, I'd be happy to meet your family. And cruise Hoosier farmboys."
I arrive in Indianapolis at noon, visit my mother, and then drive to the airport to pick up David at 3:30. He's 64 years old, a bald, buffed Daddy with craggy features, a moustache, a tight hairy chest, thick biceps, and extra-thick beneath the belt gifts. Since I saw him last, he got a pair of nipple rings, which, he said, played havoc with the metal detector at airport security.
We have dinner with Tyler, my ex-boyfriend Fred's 34-year old "son," who arranges a "West Hollywood Party" for us with about the same guests that were at his New Year's Eve Party: his ex-boyfriends, Jesse and Sandoval (both bears in their 40s), and Mike, the 23-year old waiter in the crazy retro restaurant, plus Mike's boyfriend, a soft, passive, dark-skinned student from Bangladesh (who happens to have 6" soft).
David doesn't have a type: young or old, fat or thin, if you're over 18 and have a penis, he's interested. Everyone at the party eventually goes down on him (and I get to go down on everyone at the party), but he doesn't have an orgasm until everyone else leaves, and Tyler and I are double-teaming him (both working on his penis at once).
Quota met. But that's about everyone I know in Indianapolis.
David and I have brunch with Tyler. Then we visit the gym, the Eiteljorg Museum of Indian Arts, the Indiana State Historical Museum, and the zoo. We have dinner with my sister and her husband, and then cruise the Waterworks.
It's like an ordinary bathhouse, but with no orgy room. You have to do everything in the steam room or the shower. David goes down on a bald bear in his 30s in the shower, while I make the rounds and go down on couple of collegiate twinks.
At 11:00 pm we're finished. Tyler works until 2:00. We let ourselves into his apartment and take the guest room.
I wake up to the sight of Tyler going down on David. I join in by going down on Tyler. Then we leave him to sleep a few more hours. We drive down to Bloomington, to see my old hangouts at Indiana University.
It's been over 30 years since I was a student, but the campus hasn't changed much. We visit Eigenmann Hall, where I met my first open gay men; Ballantine Hall, where Viju and I speculated on whether our professor was gay; the Memorial Union; the Rare Books Library; Wylie House. Then we walk through downtown and have dinner at the Tibetan restaurant.
The Back Door, Bloomington's new "queer bar," is hosting the Limestone Comedy Festival.
Comedy clubs aren't the best place to cruise, but I manage to attracted Jake, a pre-pharmacy student: early 20s, tall, slim, with short reddish-brown hair, thin lips, smooth chest, and an average size penis, mostly a bottom. We return to his apartment, where he goes down on David while I'm going down on him. Then David tops him.
But he doesn't finish; after a few minutes he rolls over and goes to sleep, leaving me to get into the interfemoral position with Jake. I guess he has a type after all, and Jake isn't it.
I go down on Jake while David watches. Then we have breakfast and return to Indianapolis to work out. After visiting my mother, it's time for the annual family barbecue at my nephew's house.
Joseph didn't realize that David would be coming, and he has set me up on a date for Saturday night! Ravi, a very muscular grad student in Central Asian Languages.
"That's ok," David says. "Just drop me off at Tyler's apartment. I've got some books to read, and I'm binge watching Orange is the New Black on Netflix."
"On Saturday night? Are you sure you don't want to come out with us?"
"Absolutely! You have fun. Anyway, Tyler will be home at midnight to keep my bed warm."
But...your goal of being with a new guy every day?
I spend the date worrying about whether David is sick, or angry with me. After dinner and cruising, I bring Ravi home to "share" -- rather unusual on a first date, but I don't want things to be weird with David. But he's already asleep in Tyler's arms, so we take the guest room.
Quota not met.
Tyler joins us for sharing in the morning; David does not. But he seems fine for church, Sunday dinner at my mother's house, and the Brown County Antique Mall with my sister and brother-in law.
Afterwards we have dinner with Tyler and visit the Gay Men's Club Indianapolis, a weekly sex party. I go down on a cute twink named Len, and a couple of other guys. David just watches!
Then we return to Tyler's apartment and fall asleep in his bed. Tyler and I make out for awhile and then do interfemoral, but David just falls asleep.
Quota not met!
I'm running out of cruise ideas. Maybe David could work some of his magic: four years ago, when he visited me in Philadelphia, he hooked up with 15 guys in 24 hours!
We visit Splash Mountain to look at the beefcake, but pick no one up. We have dinner with my nephew and his wife, and then cruise at the Metro, the gay bar in downtown Indianapolis. But David wants to leave at 9:00, before it gets crowded. Tyler gets home from work at midnight and joins us in the guest room, but David is already asleep.
Quota not met.
"It's our last night day in Indianapolis," I say. "We should do something fun. How about inviting a guy from Grindr over for a four-way?"
"Let's have dinner and then stay in for the evening," David says. "I have an early flight."
Ok, I can't restrain myself anymore. "What about your quota? A new guy every day, 365 per year, making up for lost time? Goal of 5,000 hookups?"
He smiles. "Oh, that. Well, you see, Boomer, as you get older, sex just becomes less important. It's still enjoyable, but it's not always necessary. Sometimes I just want to watch, or cuddle, and sometimes I'm not in the mood at all. I'd rather go to bed with a good book." He puts his arm around me. "Anyway, I came here to see you, not get laid."
We wake up at 4:00 to get David to the airport by 7:00. Tyler got home at 2:00 am, so we're planning to let him sleep. But as we pass his room, he calls, "Hey, I brought you a going away present."
He turns on the light. There's a slim guy lying in bed next to him: short hair, beard, very hairy chest, what they call an "otter." He smiles. "Which of you is David?"
See also: My New Year's Eve Party with the Small-Town Track Star; David Hooks Up with 15 Guys in 24 Hours; Joseph Sets Me Up on a Date
Tuesday, June 13, 2017
I used to go to Europe at least once a year, sometimes twice. But the vagaries of teaching, conferences, and job interviews, plus the extreme annoyance of flying today, have dampened my ardor a bit, and I don't go across the ocean much.
But not to worry, Europe comes to me. Jaan from Estonia. Eli from Amsterdam Doc from Vienna, And Yuri several times.
I was anxious to see Yuri again, but also a little self-conscious.
He lived in London, one of the biggest, most exciting cities in the world. I lived in a small town in the Midwest.
He lived in the heart of Soho, London's gay neighborhood, with a hundred gay bars, restaurants, gyms, bath houses, bookstores, and retail outlets a stone's throw away. I lived a hundred miles from the nearest gay bar.
What could I possibly do to entertain him?
I tentatively made a list of local sights. We had a a scenic waterfall, a running path that led through the countryside, a downtown sculpture walk, and a historic mansion.
"What would you like to do while you're here?" I asked in a hesitant email.
" I want to go to the Severe Weather Research Center in Boulder. That is not far, is it?"
I looked it up. "Ok, a nine hour drive. Anything local that you'd like to see?"
"Maybe the Corn Palace in Mitchell, South Dakota. And the Little House on the Prairie -- I watched it when I was a kid. And hot Prairie farmboys, for sure."
Gulp. He wanted a hookup!
When I visited Yuri in London, he and Michael, his partner at the time, fixed me up with a guy who was exactly my type.
Yuri's type was at least 10 years older than him, muscular, preferably a bodybuilder, with a Mortadella+++ beneath the belt.
He was now 40 years old. Where was I going to find a 50+ year old with those qualities?
Or any 50 year old? They were vanishingly rare on Prairie. Most middle-aged guys had long since packed up and moved to the big city, leaving only a few who were in monogamous relationships, a few straight guys on the down-low, and twinks.
Yuri arrived at 9:30 pm. I picked him up at the airport and took him out to dinner at Minerva's, the best restaurant in town, and then home to share my bed overnight.
Yuri was in his first months of shifting from Regular Guy to Daddy. He was bearded, a little craggy, a little gray, but still gym-toned, and still effervescent with good humor,
"It's a nice town," he said diplomatically. "Quiet. Not busy with cars like London."
The 10:30 service at the Unitarian Church, followed by lunch with an older gay couple, Harold (Hank) in his 50s and Wayne in his 70s. Both reasonably muscular and very big beneath the belt.
After lunch we went back to their house to sit naked in the hot tub. I hoped the afternoon would lead to sharing, but instead they told Yuri their coming out stories: they were both married with children when they met 10 years ago at an outdoor cruising site.
Afterwards we drove around the city and looked at some of the old houses and mansions.
"Your friends are very nice," Yuri said diplomatically. "Could we go to a gay bar tonight?"
"There aren't any exclusively gay bars in town. There's a gay-friendly coffee house run by lesbians."
"Ok, we go there."
We listened to some karoake and then went home to bed.
I took off work to show Yuri some more sights. We went to the gym, then to the Corn Palace in Mitchell, then to lunch and to see the waterfalls and the sculpture walk.
In the evening we went to the theater with a guy from campus I had hooked up with once or twice: Mike, a professor of education, black-haired, handsome, hairy chest, not particularly muscular but gifted beneath the belt, with at least a Kielbasa.
"Oh -- well, I am your guest. If you want to, we can share."
Not quite the enthusiasm I had hoped for, but ok.
During the sharing, Yuri mostly lay there, looking bored.
What was I doing wrong?
I had to go to my class, so I gave Yuri the car and let him drive himself around. Later he told me that he went to Walnut Grove and the Western Heritage Museum.
After dinner, I had a surprise for Yuri: a M4M Party.
When the party began and everyone got naked, Yuri ignored the older guys and zeroed in on 20-year old Sandy, an undergrad at the University, a slim redhead with average beneath-the-belt gifts. They spent most of the party kissing, and then Yuri invited him to stay after the other guests and spend the night.
Wait -- young, thin, no Mortadella. What was going on?
In the morning, we had another session -- or, rather Yuri and Sandy did, while I got up, showered, and played around on my laptop in the living room. Eventually they got up and we all went out to breakfast. Then Sandy had to go to class, and Yuri and I went to the gym.
"You certainly hit it off with Sandy!" I exclaimed.
"Yes, he will come to London to visit me soon. Maybe at winter break."
"But don't you usually like older guys?"
He paused. "I did, for a long time. But when I turned into a Daddy, I thought, I am older, I will try younger. And I like them. They're not...full of weird problems, like older guys."
"So this whole week I've been trying to fix you up with older guys, and you like younger?"
"Wait -- they were for me? I thought you liked older. I was sharing to be nice." He grinned. "Tonight Sandy will bring his roommate over, ok?"
See also: My Night With Yuri, His Boyfriend, and the Emo Boy; My Platonic Friends and Their Boy Toy
Monday, June 12, 2017
Indianapolis, December 2016
I had been looking at pictures like the one below, and reading sext messages, for three months, ever since I met Ryan H., the college track star, in a diner in small-town Illinois. Finally, just before Christmas, I drove into Champaign, and he took me out on a date, which involved meeting his parents, a wrestling meet, a mediocre dinner, hanging out with his friend, but NO SEX.
Three months of anticipation, and I didn't even get to go down on him!
Ryan asked me out on a second date, to a "21 and Under" pizza party in Indianapolis on New Year's Eve.
I never go out on New Year's Eve.
I definitely didn't want to go to a teenage party at age 56.
And I DEFINITELY definitely didn't want to go to a teenage party that results in nothing more intimate than a kiss on the doorstep.
But take a look at that combination of face, physique, and Mortadella+! Maybe there's some way I can talk the conservative Ryan H. into dropping his drawers.
I texted him and offered to take him to a "Real West Hollywood-style Gay Party" on New Year's Eve.
"I've never been to a party with all gay guys before," Ryan said. "Sounds exciting, but I'm also a little nervous. There won't be any drugs, will there?"
"No drinking, no drugs, just some desserts and party games."
Now I just had to arrange the party.
I asked Tyler to be the host. He's the "son" of my ex-boyfriend Fred (actually the son of his roommate): a chef, 33 years old, very tall, with a tight physique, curly black hair, a scrubby beard, a hairy chest, and a cut Bratwurst+.
I contacted the other two gay guys I knew in Indianapolis, Ryan the museum guard and Simon the church organist, but they were both busy.
"I'll take care of the party guests," Tyler offered. But by December 28th, he had managed to get solid commitments from only two of his ex-boyfriends (Jesse and Sandoval), both bears in their 50s.
Tyler likes them older.
Five guys is enough for a West Hollywood-style party, but there should be a mix of sizes, shapes, and ages. Ryan H., at age 19, would be the youngest guy there by over a decade. I needed to get someone close to his own age.
Fortunately, I'm a twink magnet. On December 28th, I got cruised by the waiter in a crazy retro restaurant: Mike, age 23, medium height, on the thin side, with a round face, heavy eyebrows, and short brown hair (top photo). We went out on the 29th (oral bottom), and I invited him to the party.
That made six, a perfect number.
Most West Hollywood Parties begin at 6:00, but since it was New Year's Eve and we would be up until midnight, I picked up Ryan H. at the Sheraton at 7:00 pm, shook hands with his parents, and kissed and groped him in the elevator on the way down to the lobby. Then we drove to Tyler's apartment.
The usual coming out stories, dates from hell, enormous penises, and celebrity hookups. I told about my date with Michael J. Fox, which impressed the older guys but not Ryan -- he looked away. I started telling about my hookup with Justin, the supersized guy at the gym, but stopped when Ryan picked up a magazine. Bored? Embarrassed?
This was the guy who had been sending me nude selfies for three months.
Tyler served a traditional Greek New Year's Eve dinner: a lamb-macaroni dish, a cabbage salad, and vasilopita There was wine, but Ryan, Mike, and I drank Diet Coke. Then he passed out bowls of green grapes.
"Have a mouthful of grapes when the clock strikes midnight," he said, "For good luck in the coming year."
"What if my mouth is already full?" I asked, looking at Ryan. He looked away.
Embarrassed? Was I doing something wrong?
We played Gay Trivial Pursuit, in teams: Ryan and Mike, and Tyler and his bear friends. I was the moderator. In what year was Stonewall? What gay-themed movie won the best picture Oscar in 1982? What was the name of the first gay character on prime time tv? Which famous American writer was gay?
Tyler's team won easily. Ryan and Mike belonged to the post-gay generation, with mostly straight friends and little knowledge of their history and culture.
Here's where things would get erotic. Everybody had to go into the bathroom and snap a picture of their penis, flaccid, then text it to Tyler, who printed them out.
The one who guessed all five correctly got to spend 10 minutes alone in the bedroom with the guy of his choice.
It's not easy, even if you've been with the guy before. I had been with Mike and Tyler, and I had no trouble guessing Ryan's gigantic Mortadella+, but I got the two bears mixed up.
But Tyler got them all right, and chose to go into the bedroom with -- me!
I dutifully followed him into the bedroom.
"Why me?" I asked. "I'm staying here! We had sex this morning!"
"I know. Why do you think I want some more?" He pushed me to my knees.
"Ok, but we need to do another penis contest. I want to get with Ryan before the night's over."
"Sure, sure." He unzipped. I shrugged and went down on him.
When we returned, Ryan was glaring at me. Had I done something wrong?
The Arousal Contest
For this contest, everybody had to get naked and stand still. The first person to get fully aroused without touching himself or being touched by anyone else won, and could ask anyone he wanted to go down on him.
Older guys and guys who are well hung don't get fully aroused easily, but Mike the Waiter sprang to life immediately. And chose -- me!
"You've already been with me," I protested. "Are you sure you don't want one of these other guys instead?"
"I made my choice," Mike said, grinning. "Rules are rules."
I dutifully followed him into the bedroom, where we kissed and fondled, and he went down on me.
Auld Lange Syne
By this time it was nearly midnight, so we gathered around the tv, still naked, to watch the ball drop on Time Square. I sat on the couch between to Ryan H. and Jesse the Bear. At the stroke of midnight, I grabbed Ryan and kissed him and fondled his Mortadella+. He smiled, pushed me away, and started eating his grapes.
"Grapes for luck in the New Year."
"Right. I should eat my grapes, too. I wonder where..."
At that moment, Jesse enveloped me in a hug and kissed me. He was a good kisser, and I became aroused. I felt someone go down on me -- Ryan, probably.
No, it was the other bear, Sandoval.
Desperate, I pushed his head away. "Ok, time for the sharing," I said. "Ryan, you and me, and who wants to join us? Mike?"
"Actually, I'm a little tired," Ryan said. He was pulling on his pants. "It's been a fun party, but I'd like to go home now, if that's ok?"
"Um...sure. Just let me get dressed, and I'll drive you back to the Sheraton."
"The downtown Sheraton?" Sandoval asked. "Jesse and I are going that way. We'll be happy to drop you off."
A few minutes later, Ryan H. was gone, along with the bears, leaving me alone with Tyler and Mike.
I wasn't really in the mood, but I dutifully went down on Tyler while Mike was going down on me, then bottomed for interfemoral -- Mike on top of me with his cock between my legs, and Tyler topping him.
But all the time, I was thinking of Ryan H., the college track star who I somehow managed to offend.
He unfriended me on Facebook, and he hasn't responded to my texts since that night.
See also: My Christmas Date with the College Track Star.; I Spend the Night with Fred's Son; Cruised by the Waiter in a Crazy Retro Restaurant
I'm working at the Getty Consternation Institute, my first actual 9-5 office job, and I hate it. The same four walls, day in and day out, five days a week. My summer vacation is coming up -- a paltry two weeks (they get four in Europe).
And I want to make the best of it.
"How about the first week in Rock Island, and the second in Paris?" I ask Lane.
"How about staying in West Hollywood and going to the Rage?" Lane counters.
Lane is only guy I have ever met who actually grew up in West Hollywood. He's a third generation Weho boy (his grandparents opened a hardware store on Santa Monica and Doheny in 1938). He grew up in a house on Crescent Heights and Romaine. The French Quarter was his after-school hangout! He graduated from Hollywood High School, then Cal State Los Angeles, and moved into an apartment near the corner of La Cienega and Sunset. .
11 years later, he is still there.
"How about a week in Paris, and a week in London?" I ask.
"Why should I go anywhere else? I'm already here."
"You mean you've never been out of Los Angeles?"
He has a point. You have to be careful, watch your behavior, drop pronouns, adopt a heterosexual facade even in Beverly Hills -- even on Sunset Boulevard in West Hollywood. Things in the dark dismal Straight World are much worse.
But I like traveling. I've been to Europe four times, plus Australia, Colombia, India, Japan, Turkey, and Thailand. This summer I want to go somewhere!
"Ok, how about this -- I visit my relatives in the Midwest by myself, and then you join me on a trip somewhere. Anywhere you want."
Lane hesitate. "Well, now that you mention it, there's someplace I've always wanted to go."
"Great. We'll talk to your friend Gershom, the travel agent, this afternoon."
"No -- I'll go to Gershom myself, and get the tickets, and make all the hotel arrangements. I want it to be a surprise."
I spend the next month pumping Lane for answers. What is the dream destination for a gay Jewish boy who has never been out of Los Angeles?
I find out when we get to the airport:
Ok, the Cold War has just ended, and Poland is now transitioning to democracy, with all the economic upheaval and organized crime you would expect. But...Warsaw reputedly has a nice museum and the Ostrogski Palace, and Krakow is a beautiful old university city. We can make this work.
15 hour flight, from 7:00 pm to 7:00 pm, with a 3 hour layover in Copenhagen (enough time to visit the Tivoli Gardens).
We check into the Regent Warsaw.
Jogging in Lazienki Park, then a tour of the Jewish Cemetery, the Nozyk Synagogue, the house on Świętojańska where Lane's mother grew up. It's demolished; there's a restaurant in his place.
"This is a tour of your roots, isn't it?" I asked. "Could we do some gay things, too?"
So we go to the Club Galla, a sauna with a dark room. I go down on a muscular guy in his 30s, with a short beard and a smooth, beautifully sculpted physique (top photo). He doesn't speak English, French, or German.
Tour of the Warsaw Uprising Museum, then a 2-hour train trip to Lodz to see the Radegast train station, where 200,000 Jews were loaded into cattle cars bound for the concentration camps. Then we visit the Jewish Cemetery and the Film Museum, and the Gainimedes Club, which has a dark room and gym facilities.
We meet a businessman named Gregor, who invites us back to his apartment: in his 40s, hairy, very muscular, with a round face, short black hair, and a black beard. Mostly into anal, but he goes down on Lane while I'm going down on him, and then he gets into the 69 position with me.
I insist on going to Mass at the Church of the Assumption of Our Blessed Mary while Lane and Gregor go for a tour of the city.
Then another 2-hour train trip to Krakow, in the south. We check into the the Hotel Stary in the Old City, a block from Rynek Główny, the old town square.
Into kissing and oral. He goes down on me once and Lane twice during the night.
Tour of the Jewish Museum and the Old Synagogue, then dinner with Marik, who invites us to "share" his friend Jurgen from East Germany, a slim redhead with a gigantic Kielbasa.
Breakfast, then a workout at Marik's gym.
"We have to be back in Warsaw tomorrow," I say. "Where shall we go today? I hear that Lublin...."
We rent a car and drive to the Auschwitz-Birkenau memorial and museum in Oswiecim, about an hour west of Krakow.
During World War II, 1.1 million people were killed here. Jews, gypsies, Jehovah's Witnesses, homosexuals. Lane's mother was imprisoned here from 1942 until Liberation on January 27th, 1945.
We drive back to Krakow. I don't feel like going out.
A three hour train trip back to Warsaw.
"You're right," I tell Lane as we take our seats on the plane that will take us to Copenhagen, then home. "The world outside of West Hollywood is horrible. Nothing but brutality and death and despair. We should never leave again."
"Are you kidding?" Lane exclaims. "Sure, we paid our respects to the tragedies of the past -- never forgive, never forget. But I met so many hot guys! It was amazing! And you got quite a bit of action, too, right?" He nudges me. "Where shall we go next year? I'm thinking England...."
See also: Gershom and the Gentile; The Getty Consternation Institute; Lane and the Cute Young Thing