Thursday, March 8, 2018

The Farmboy, the Preacher, and the Security Guard


Louisville, Kentucky, Novembe 1982

During my first year at Indiana University, Roy the Farmboy and I drove to Louisville, Kentucky to go to the Metropolitan Community Church

I couldn't wait!  A church founded by and for gay people!  I had been looking for a MCC ever since I read the Rev. Troy Perry's autobiography a couple of years ago.  There were none in Indiana at the time.

We parked near the Brown Theater in downtown Louisville and walked to the Unitarian Church, an old Gothic grey-brick building.  There was a guy pacing outside the door: African-American, very dark skin, short, solidly built, in a pink shirt and tie. He looked like a pro wrestler.

I didn't have my list of the Five Traits I Find Attractive yet, but in retrospect, he had four: short, dark, muscular, and religious.  And probably the fifth, too -- beneath the belt gifts.


"Hi," I said, holding out my hand.  "I'm Boomer, here for the service.  And this is Roy.  You probably know him already."

"Hi, Roy!  Glad you're back!  How's Bloomington?"  He looked around to make sure no one was watching, then gave Roy a kiss.  I felt a pang of jealousy.

"Boomer, this is Terence.  He's the sound guy and security guard for the church."

"Hi!"  He leaned in for a brief kiss.  "You can't be too careful.  We've had bomb threats.  You never know if a visitor is going to try to kill you.  So, are you guys together?"

"Not yet -- but I'm working on it."

Terence laughed and clapped him on the back.   "Come to brunch with us after the service and we'll talk, ok?"

We walked on into the sanctuary.  It looked like any other congregational-style church -- bare of religious symbols except for a pulpit decorated with a cross.  There were King James Bibles and Methodist hymnals on the pews.

"You and Terence...." I began.

"Oh, no.  I haven't been with anyone in church.  Besides, Terence is Rev. Reid's spouse.   That's what they call them in MCC.  Life-long commitment, rejecting all others, and all that.

My heart sank.  There would be no seeing Terence naked today, or any day.

There were about 50 people in the congregation, mostly gay men, mostly couples.  A scattering of lesbian couples, a few with children.  One heterosexual couple.

To my surprise, the service was all Nazarene -- old-time Gospel hymns, quotes from the King James Bible, hand-clapping, shouts of "Amen!," calling each other "Brother" and "Sister," and a sermon full of "God told me!" and "You got to get right with God!"

The only differences were:
1. The clerical robes.
2. The communion.
3. People typically kissed hello instead of shaking hands.  Same-sex on the mouth, opposite-sex on the cheek.
4. The sermon topic, Galatians 3:28: "There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female: for ye are all one in Christ Jesus."  The preacher expanded it to include "there is neither gay nor straight."










The preacher, Brother Reid, was in his 40s, a tall, beefy bear who looked very much like Brother Tyler back home.  He even paced and pounded like that old bulldog.

It was nice, but I was expecting something less -- well, less Nazarene.

Afterwards, Terence, Brother Reid, and a few other guys took us out to the English Grill in the Brown Hotel, which specialized in a sort of turkey Eggs Benedict called a Hot Brown.  Brother Reid sat beside me with his arm draped over the back of my chair, and we shared childhood "horror stories" about repressive church rules.  No swimming!  No dancing!  No movies!  No shopping on Sunday!

He looked, and acted interested.  Meanwhile, Terence was sitting next to me, but totally taken by Roy the Farmboy.  What was going on?  Did they..um..do that sharing thing, like the Episcopal priest I met in Des Moines?

A preacher hooks up with guys other than his spouse?

"What are you doing later?" Brother Reid asked.

"We have to be heading back to Bloomington.  It's a two hour drive."

"Two hours -- that's nothing! Sometimes I drive two hours before breakfast.  You need the grand tour of Louisville, and then the drag show at Nowhere."

Preachers go to bars?  And drink beer?

"Sounds like fun," Roy said.  "I just turned 21 last month -- I haven't gone to the bars yet!"

"Then it's high time you started!  The drag show is at 10:00 pm."

I didn't want to go to a drag show in a bar! "But then we'd be driving on dark country roads all the way up to Bloomington at midnight!"

"Or -- or --"  Brother Reid said with a smile, "You could spend the night, leave at 7:00 tomorrow morning.  We can put you up in the spare bedroom."

Sighing, I agreed.  Another night with Roy, who was nice but not my type, all anal instead of oral, while a Greek god lay sleeping in the next room.

The four of us, behaving very much like two couples on a double date, spent the rest of the afternoon at  Conrad's Castle, which I found only moderately interesting, and Slugger Field, which I found not interesting at all.  We had dinner at a steak house, and then went to Brother Reid and Terence's apartment to listen to depressing country-western music and wait until it was time to go to the bar.

I staked out an easy chair, while the other guys got the couch.

"Plenty of room over here," Brother Reid said, patting the tiny bit of seat next to him.

"Oh, I'm fine here," I said petulantly.

Roy stood, came to the chair, and put his arms around me.  "Feeling neglected?"  Soon we were kissing.  I was vaguely aware of Brother Reid and Terence doing the same.

"Maybe we'll skip the drag show," Brother Reid said.  "It's been a long day.  Roy, you know where the spare bedroom is.  There are clean towels in the bathroom, if you want to shower."


Another night with Roy -- good kisser, but not particularly impressive with anything else.

Later I got up to "use the bathroom."   The other bedroom door was closed.

I returned to our bed. "Sh*t!" I whispered.

"Anything wrong, babe?" Roy murmured.

I didn't know he was awake!  "Oh -- I was hoping to see those guys naked, but their door was closed."

"Why didn't you say something?  I can take care of that.  Hang on a minute."

He disappeared.  I heard the door to the other bedroom open.  A moment later, Brother Reid appeared in the doorway, naked, smiling.  He climbed onto the bed, pinned me down, and pressed his mouth against mine.  I felt his Bratwurst move against me.

When it was over, he returned to his own bed, and Roy returned to ours, having had a similar experience with Terence.

Apparently preachers do, in fact, hook up with guys other than their spouses, but they don't talk about it afterwards.

And I never did see Terence naked.

See also: The Farmboy Butches it Up; Dumped by Richie Rich

Monday, March 5, 2018

Wrestling Bulges

Wrestlers wear singlets -- one piece lycra or nylon suits that fit tightly over their body, so there are no folds for their opponents to grab.  They may wear a jockstrap underneath, or they may wear nothing at all.  And they're young men.  Arousal happens frequently.














At the worst possible moment.

When it happens at a match, with your parents, little sister, and hundreds of other people watching, what do you do?








Pretend that it's not happening.


















And everyone else will pretend that it's not happening, too.

















Except for the gay men and boys in the audience who come to wrestling matches precisely for moments like this.

More after the break















Sunday, March 4, 2018

Alan Hooks Up with David Ogden Stiers and Patrick Adiarte

West Hollywood, June 1985

Alan had lived in West Hollywood for seven years.  He had done the bar-and-bathhouse thing, starred in porn movies, hooked up with a dozen closet-case movie stars, turned "ex gay" due to Pentecostal guilt, and found a drag queen "fairy godmother" who helped him realize that God doesn't care who you love.

But God might disapprove of tricking -- one night stands with strangers -- and the MCC, where Alan was student clergy, definitely disapproved.

Besides, with AIDS, random sex with strangers was just too dangerous.

So Alan's sleaze days were over.  No bath houses, no t-rooms,  no picking up random guys in bars, just dating and romance.  The last thing he needed -- or wanted -- was a trick.

Especially a celebrity trick -- he had already been with more than enough closet case tv stars, thank you.

Especially two celebrity tricks.

But the guy cruising him at Mugi, the gay Asian bar, turned out to be an icon of his childhood.

Growing up in a small town in western Pennsylvania, Alan didn't see many Asian guys.  So he was enthralled by two episodes of The Brady Bunch in 1972 when the gang goes to Hawaii and meets David, played by  Filipino actor Patrick Adiarte.  He takes his shirt off a lot.

Alan also saw Adiarte playing a Korean houseboy on M*A*S*H, the drama about doctors treating wounded soldiers during the Korean war, in 1972-73, and Leonard Wong on a two-part episode of Kojak (1974).




11 years later, Adiarte hadn't changed: thick black hair, round face, tight dancer's body, very tight jeans!

Patrick's friend, a middle-aged white guy, came over to make the introduction, and they sat a table with drinks (mineral water for Alan, beer for Patrick) and had a cruising conversation.

Tall, buffed, and hung, Alan wasn't used to being treated as a Cute Young Thing. Everyone expected him to make the first move.  He wasn't used to being bought drinks and told how hot he was. But he rather enjoyed the attention.

They groped and fondled for a long time.  Alan kept waiting to be asked out on a date, but Patrick seemed content to just fondle.

10 minutes passed while Patrick flattered him and squeezed his cock under the table.  He was so aroused, it hurt!  Was Patrick planning to bring him to climax right there at Mugi?

Pushing his hand away, Alan decided to take the initiative.  "Would you like to go out to dinner tomorrow night?"

Patrick frowned.  "I don't have much time for dating.  My career keeps me very busy.  This is the first time I've ever been to Mugi, in fact."

Uh-oh: that was code for "I'm in the closet"!

"...but I'm free tonight, if you'd like to come back to my place."

 Uh-oh: that was code for "trick."

Alan had given up on tricking.  No going home with guys he had barely met, no scribbling down the wrong phone number and leaving when the sex was over.  Dating and romance only!

But one of the icons of his childhood was fondling his penis!  Alan was so turned on that he wanted to throw Patrick on the table and shove his cock down his throat right there!

Or take him into the bathroom and...

No way!

"Sure," Alan said reluctantly.  "You can come to my place.  How do you like your eggs?"

"Well -- actually I'm in town visiting a friend.  He's the one who convinced me to go out tonight. I promised him that if I tricked with anyone, he could watch. Or join in, if you're into it."

Alan didn't like two guys in one bed -- he found it distracting.  But if he refused, most likely there would be no trick tonight.  "Um...well, what does he look like?"

"I'll introduce you.  Come on."  He stood and led Alan, fully aroused and tenting, across the room to the middle-aged white guy, who was sipping on a mixed drink.

Bald -- Alan hated bald guys!

Then the guy said "Hello, I'm David," and Alan recognized him: David Ogden Stiers, the 43-year old actor who played snobbish intellectual Charles Winchester during the last few seasons of M*A*S*H.

He shook David's hand, wondering briefly how he met Patrick, when they weren't on the show at the same time.

Only briefly because David turned the handshake into a hug and a grope.  And then a kiss.

No one kissed at Mugi -- he must be a little drunk!

Raised Pentecostal, where alcohol was a major sin, Alan hated drunks!  But two guys were groping, fondling, and kissing him -- he had no choice but to let them lead him out onto the street and follow them to David's house in Westwood, near UCLA.

No drinks, no conversation -- they immediately pulled Alan into a bedroom, where Patrick immediately dropped to his knees and pulled out Alan's cock.  He went down on Alan and David at the same time while they kissed.

David was a little chunky, with a hairy chest and belly and a cut 7".  Patrick had a smooth chest with prominent nipples and about 5", uncut.

Patrick didn't take the load -- at the last moment he pulled away, so Alan spurted onto the floor.

"That's ok," David said.  "It's happened before."

Then David wanted to top Alan.  He refused, so David topped Patrick -- with a condom, of course --while Alan was going down on him.

Alan took Patrick's load.

He expected to be invited to spend the night afterwards -- even tricks didn't get kicked out into the cold California night at 2:00 am -- but no, instead of climbing into bed, they all got dressed again.

While David was in the bathroom, Patrick scribbled down a phone number.

"This has been great," he said.  "Give me a call, and the next time I'm in town we'll get together."

It turned out to be the wrong number.

Was Alan Telling the Truth?

Alan told this story several times, with some of the details changed -- sometimes it was at the Gold Coast, not Mugi, and sometimes David, not Patrick, was the oral bottom.  But the conversations, the spurting onto the carpet, and the wrong number stayed the same.

David Ogden Stiers came out in 2009. He died in 2018, at the age of 75.

Patrick Adiarte hasn't made any public statements, and I haven't found any gay rumors about him.  .  He was married to Loni Ackerman from 1975 to 1982.

See also: Alan Dates Will of "Land of the Lost"

L

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