My Date with the Nickelodeon Star

Fort Lauderdale, April 2002

I dragged Barney to the Parker Playhouse in Fort Lauderdale to see  The Tempest. the Shakespeare play about an aging magician on a desert island.  Playing Stefano, the King's butler, was an actor named Sean Stuart: mid 20s, slim, with light brown hair, a very handsome round face, and a very bulgeworthy leotard.

I never approached an actor backstage for a dressing-room flirtation before, but my friend Dick, back in Rock Island, did it last fall, and last Christmas he announced that they were a couple (See Hooking Up with the Pizza Boy).  Emboldened, I went backstage amid the other well-wishers, walked past the actors who played Prospero, Ariel, and Caliban, and congratulated Sean on his performance.

"I studied Shakespeare in grad school," I said, not the best opening.  "I was going to do my thesis on gay subtexts in The Tempest...."

The unmistakable twink eye-widening.  An invitation to a late dinner.  Sean suggested the Quarterdeck, a seafood chain restaurant nearby.

Barney wasn't interested in Sean -- his taste in men went to the older bodybuilder types.  But he had a rule -- when you go out together, you stay together, no matter what.  So he agreed to "share," if I could seal the deal.

"You're probably wondering why I changed my name," Sean said as we sat down.  "It's to avoid all the gushing fans who saw me on tv.  I got really tired of people coming up all starry eyed, like  'Oh, I had such a crush on you when I was a kid.'  That's why I like going out with older guys -- you play it cool."

Barney and I exchanged mystified glances.  We had no idea who this guy was.  But in order to seal the deal, I had to pretend to be a fan.

"I lived in L.A. for ten years," I told him.  "I'm used to celebrities.  I've been out with Michael J. Fox, Richard Dreyfuss, Peter Barton..."

His eyes glazed over.  I was losing him.  These guys were not of interest to a 25 year old.

"Don't forget Nate Richert," Barney added.  "Harvey on Sabrina the Teenage Witch."

"Melissa Joan Hart!" Sean exclaimed.  "Such a diva!  And not all that gay-friendly, if you want to know.  Actually, Nickelodeon studios was a bit on the homophobic side when I was working there.  Look at Kricfalusi on Ren and Stimpy."

These were all clues!  Today I would just pull out my Smartphone and look up whatever vehicle Melissa Joan Hart was in during the 1990s, but in 2002 I just smiled and nodded.

"So, you've made a new career for yourself on the stage," Barney offered, trying to help me change the subject.

But Sean would have none of it.  "Some of the writers tried to add some gay hints.  Remember the time I got a crush on a rich kid?  And Ferguson -- definitely gay, am I right?  Jason and I still hang out sometimes.  He's straight but cool."

Ferguson?  Jason?  I tried desperately to think of what Nickelodeon tv shows I had seen in the 1990s.  Rocko's Modern Life, Ren and Stimpy, Are You Afraid of the Dark, Rugrats, The Adventures of Pete and Pete.... 

"I always thought the older brother on Pete and Pete was cute..."

"Straight, though.  You want to know who's gay?  Tim Eyster, Sponge on Salute Your Shorts. We dated a little, but it had to be on the sly, you know.  If the studio found out, we would have both been fired."

For a guy who didn't like to be surrounded by gushing fans, Sean talked about his tv series a lot!

"So, Ariel in The Tempest is often played as gay..."

"Did you think Sam had a sort of gay vibe?  I tried to play him that way, in spite of the scripts making me girl-crazy."

The check came, and with it blessed relief.  "We should get together again," I said.  "Tomorrow night?"  That would give me a chance to do some research on Sean's famous tv show.

He grabbed my knee under the table. "What's wrong with tonight?  I've never been double-teamed by two hot studs before."

Well, at least he'd have to shut up during bedroom activities.

We drove him to our house in Wilton Manors.  He had a nice but not spectacular body, with a firm, smooth chest and a little hair on his belly.  Average+ beneath the belt, almost a Bratwurst, long and thin.  He was mostly an anal bottom but open to suggestions.  Like every famous person I've been with, he was heavily into cuddling.

The moment Sean fell asleep in Barney's arms, I rushed to my room, turned on my computer, and googled Melissa Joan Hart, Jason, and Ferguson.

I found Clarissa Explains It All, which aired on Nickelodeon from 1991 to 1994, about a junior high girl (Melissa Joan Hart) who addresses the camera to explain tween problems like acne and book reports.  She had a bratty little brother, Ferguson (Jason Zimbler), and a skateboarding best friend, Sam (Sean O'Neil).

Sean O'Neil was born on November 29, 1977, and grew up in Orlando, Florida.  He sang in a boy band before going to work on the series.  When it ended, he majored in theater arts in college.  He had two voice-over credits on his film resume, but not much else.  Apparently he had moved into the theater.

I went back to bed.

In the morning we had breakfast and discussed Clarissa some more, and then sent Sean on his way.

Later I began to wonder if Sean Stuart was putting us on, not really the guy from Clarissa at all. It doesn't make sense to change your name to avoid fans -- you want fans to come to your performances.  In West Hollywood it was commonplace for guys to try to increase their desirability by claiming to have been in a popular tv show or movie, where they worked with someone famous (and usually dated them).


But claiming to have been in such a minor tv show, and to have dated a guy from another minor tv show?

If I was going to make something up, I'd claim to have been on Beverly Hills, 90210 and dated Jason Priestley.

It's been over a decade, and I'm still not sure.

Here's a picture of Sean O'Neil today.  What do you think?

See also: My Celebrity Date with Nate Richert.

The Boy Hooks Up with the Christmas Ghost

Rome City, Indiana, December 1974

The boy sat on the bed, reading about fairies.

It was very cold in his aunt's attic room, so he was under the covers.  A space heater glowed orange beside the bed.  Downstairs, a Christmas party was going on, with his parents and aunts and uncles and friends from town.  Most he didn't know.

But they were all paired up into husbands and wives, male-female couples extending in all directions to infinity.

Even Santa Claus had a wife.

The attic door was open, to let some heat up.  Downstairs he heard talking and laughter, and a song, "Winter Wonderland."

In the meadow we can build a snowman,
And pretend that he is Parson Brown.
He'll say "Are you married?"  We'll say, "No, man,
But you can do the job when you're in town."

Wife, kids, house, job, his destiny.  His doom.

Suddenly he heard footsteps coming up the stairs.  A dark shape that quickly resolved itself into the form of a young man, probably college age, tall and slim with thick reddish hair and very pale skin.  He was wearing a red sweater and jeans.  Oddly, he was barefoot.  The boy didn't recognize him from the party downstairs.

"Can I come in?"

"You already are in."

"Fair enough."  The stranger sat down on the edge of the bed.  "I saw you come up here, and wondered if you were ok."

Bogus!  Why would a complete stranger come upstairs to check up on him?  Why not his mother, or Aunt Nora?

"I'm fine, just tired.  And this is my room. Mine and my brother's while we're visiting, so I can be here.  Are you friends with Cousin Joe?"

He ignored the question.  "What you reading?"

The boy had hidden the book -- his parents disapproved of non-religious books in general, and especially science fiction and fantasy.  "Um...science homework."

The stranger reached up and pulled the book from under the covers.  "Fairies?" he asked in surprise.

"Not that kind of fairy," the boy said, cutting off the criticism,  He wasn't reading fairy tales -- he had always hated Snow White, Cinderella, Rapunzel, and their ilk, stupid boy meets girl stories with some flittery things added, shouting that the meaning of life is to be found in feminine smiles.  He was reading about fairies, the dark, sinister figures of European myth, like Puck in Midsummer Night's Dream. 

"Midsummer Night's Dream!" the stranger exclaimed.  "I love Shakespeare.  I used to be a grade-A riot on stage!"  He flounced about the room, reciting:

If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumber'd here
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding, but a dream.

"You look pretty solid to me," the boy said.

"Who cares?  It got you to smile.  Cold up here -- got room for one more, Jackson?"  Without waiting for an answer he climbed under the covers next to the boy and put his arm around him.  His hard bicep bulged against the boy's shoulder.

"I'm not a little kid," the boy protested, while he instinctively cuddled against the stranger's hard chest.

"I never said you were.  You've got all of your grownup parts in place.  You shave?"

"Once a week!"  He actually hadn't started shaving yet.

"I can tell."  The stranger brushed his open palm against the boy's face.  "You've got some hair under your arms..." he caressed the boy's shoulder.  "A manly chest,  a regular Jack Dempsey..."  he caressed the boy's chest.

The boy began to get aroused, and quickly placed the book over his crotch.

The stranger chuckled.  "You have other adult parts, too, I see.  Have you spooned yet?"

"Huh?"

"You know, kissed."

"Sure, lots of times!" Adults often asked about kissing girls.  Other boys asked about screwing them. You were always supposed to answer "lots of times."

"Banana oil!  Not the stories you tell your friends.  Have you kissed anyone yet?"

The boy looked down at the book barely covering his arousal. "No."

"Would you like to?  Be honest, now."

"No.  I don't like girls."  It was a heavy admission to make to a complete stranger.

"What fools these mortals be, to tell you it has to be a girl!  Any fairy can tell you that boys kiss boys, too."

Boys kiss boys?  Was that possible?  

As if in response, the stranger pulled the boy close and pressed his lips against one cheek, then the other cheek, then his mouth, and they were kissing.  It was bright like fire.

Suddenly he raised his head.   "That was intense.  I gotta go, but we'll see each other again before you go back to Rock Island, ok?"


"Sure."

Then the stranger left.

Through the closet door!

Later the boy was looking through an old photo album, and he saw a picture of a teenage boy who looked like the stranger. He even had the same red sweater.

"That's Bryant, one of my high school friends, at a Christmas party a thousand years ago" Aunt Nora told him.  "You never saw such a cut-up!  After graduation he went to Indiana U., and then I lost track of him.  He's probably got a wife by now, and grown-up kids."

"Or not," the boy said, smiling.

See also: The Gay Ghost Who liked oral