A Hook Up with Burt Ward on the "Batman" Set

On Tuesdays and Thursday afternoons in the spring of 1991, after my course in Biblical Hebrew at UCLA, I often drove up to Brentwood to visit Cesar Romero, the actor best known as The Cisco Kid in the 1940s and the Joker in the 1960s Batman series.  We didn't become friends, exactly; we sat in his living room drinking lemonade, while he told about the many celebrities he had hooked up with through his career: Johnny Sheffield, Tommy Cook, Desi Arnaz (father and son both), Cary Grant, Walter Pidgeon, Raymond Burr, Tony Perkins,  Tab Hunter, Rock Hudson.

And Batman and Robin both!

He had gone down on Adam West (Batman) several times at all-male parties before he began playing the Joker.  No big surprises there.

But Burt Ward was 21 years old, a sheltered, conservative college jock who was not even aware that same-sex acts exist until  Adam West explained.  He allowed Cesar to go down on him once ("Huge!  A Kielbasa!"), but was never really comfortable around gay people.

So this story leaves me with a few questions.

Warning: there is a bisexual scene.

Hollywood, Spring 1967

Call me Scott.  I was one of the writers for the Batman series in the 1960s.  I wrote for the villains, making them as camp as possible.  My favorites were the women: Catwoman; Black Widow; Olga, Queen of the Cossacks; Marsha, Queen of Diamonds, played by Caroline Jones (Morticia of The Addams Family).  

But the male villain had their charms.  Many of them were gay: Cesar Romero (The Joker), Burgess Meredith (The Penguin), Victor Buono (King Tut), Liberace (Chandell).  After filming we used to go out to the bars, or to Cesar's house for an all-male party.   Adam West (Batman) and one of the costume designers came on occasion, but not Burt Ward (Robin).

I definitely wanted an opportunity to make it with Burt.  Have you seen the bulge in his tights?  Well, I've seen it close up!

Everyone said he was a sheltered, shy kid who didn't even know that gay people existed.  Even Cesar Romero struck out, and he made it with every guy in Hollywood.

Well, one day I got my chance.

Remember all those cliffhanging scenes, with the Dynamic Duo tied up?  We filmed the start and finish at the same time, to ensure continuity, which means that they sometimes had to stay tied up for a couple of hours.  Often they were left alone on a secluded stage for 20-30 minutes, with nothing to do but get hit on.

Some of the girls in the crew were notorious for taking that opportunity to kiss and fondle the helpless victims.  They would even bring in their friends to get a handful.  I never saw any penis actually come out, but there was a lot of groping and tenting -- I've seen both Adam and Burt fully aroused.

Ok, maybe they weren't entirely helpless -- most of the props were rather flimsy, so if they really worked at it, they could escape.  And, one yell would bring a stage hand running.  Maybe they enjoyed the attention.

In an episode we filmed just before the 1967 summer hiatus, Burt was tied up alone, spreadeagle on a table.  I walked past during the staging, as usual, and saw two girls working on him, #1 kissing him and #2 rubbing his crotch.

I walked up, said "Let an expert show you how it's done," then pulled out his cock.

Burt didn't protest -- he was busy kissing Girl #1.  I don't think he even noticed me.  I licked his balls, then his shaft, then drew all 8" into my mouth, sucking on the head while masturbating him.

He moaned, probably thinking that Girl #2 was going down on him.  Then she said "Who invited the fairy to the party?"

Burt looked up. I immediately moved my mouth away from his cock, but continued to masturbate him.

"Hi," I said.  Not much else to say in that situation.

"Oh, hi."  Burt looked at me for a long moment.  I couldn't tell if he was mad or not.  "Say, can you get Dick a girlfriend? [Dick Grayson, Robin's alter ego]. Fans are starting to talk."

"Sure, buddy, no problemo."  I returned to his cock.  Girl #2 shrugged and moved up to kiss him.  A few moments later, he spurted into my throat -- enormous load!  I wiped him off with my handkerchief, and moved on.

I tried to keep my word, but my "Dick's Girlfriend is Kidnapped" idea didn't make it.  But I did manage the next best thing: The premiere episode of the third season introduced Yvonne Craig as Barbara Gordon, Batgirl!

And no, I never had the opportunity to go down on Burt again.

Gay Dating Stories with Tony Dow

When I lived in West Hollywood, everybody had a favorite celebrity dating story, told at parties and to impress first dates.   I often heard about current stars, like Rob Lowe, Matthew Broderick, Tom Cruise, Tony Danza, and Sylvester Stallone, and occasionally stars from previous generations, like Tony Curtis and Tommy Kirk.

But never anything about Tony Dow.

In retrospect, this seems strange. Tony Dow played Wally, Beaver's teenage brother in the iconic nuclear family sitcom Leave It to Beaver (1957-1963).  He was a gifted athlete who had no qualms about displaying his physique on camera.  He was the first crush of countless thousands of Baby Boomer boys, giving them their first inklings that same-sex desire and romance can exist.

He was very visible in the 1980s, playing a middle-aged Wally on a continuation of the series, The New Leave It to Beaver.  And he has remained visible since, playing endless parodies of Wally and the Beaver, acting, directing, writing, being interviewed, forging a new career as a sculptor.  He has remained a quiet, calm presence throughout our lives.

Sure, he is probably straight -- married from 1969 to the present, with no gay rumors to speak of (although the Bisexual Alliance has him on a list of 150 bisexual actors).   

But that never stopped guys from spinning a hookup story out of a chance meeting.  Why were they so reticent?

I shot out emails to all of my West Hollywood, San Francisco, and New York friends, asking if they or anybody they knew had a story about dating or hooking up with Tony Dow.  I got a few leads.

1. Rich Correll and Harold Lloyd Jr.  Will the Bondage Boy had a friend named Jason, who dated Rich Correll during the 1970s.

Born in 1948, so three years younger than Tony Dow, Correll played Beaver's best friend Richard on Leave It to Beaver.  They were best friends in real life, too. Later Rich became a writer and director, known for Hannah Montana, The Suite Life of Zack and Cody, and other Disney channel teencoms.

"Did Rich Correll ever date Tony Dow?" I asked via email.

"That story never came up, but Jason did tell me that Rich dated [silent film star] Harold Lloyd's son as a young teen.  He was an anal bottom and liked rough trade: he wanted Rich to beat and strangle him. Then one night he had a stroke, which he never recovered from.  That's why Rich refused to do S&M."

Harold Lloyd Jr., born in 1931, was indeed gay, and into rough trade.  The other details work out.  But this story didn't get me any closer to Tony Dow.



2. Tommy Rettig

Tom Rettig (back) was born in 1941 and  acted steadily through his childhood,notably in Lassie (1954-57).  He and Tony Dow became friends in the early 1960s, and starred together in Never Too Young (1965-66).

Tom and his wife Darlene were deeply involved in the youth counterculture: drugs, rock music, protest, free love. They were both bisexual, and often brought in third partners, both male and female.

 After a drug bust in 1976, the couple split up.  Tom became a motivational speaker and author.  He moved into the computer industry in the early 1980s, becoming a recognized expert in dBase and FoxPro. 

In 1989, he was living in Marina del Rey, near Venice Beach, where, according to my ex-boyfriend Troy in Upstate New York, he met the 25-year old Maury, the ex-boyfriend of the Satyr.   Maury had never heard of him, and didn't want to hear about Lassie, which Tom found refreshing.   They dated for about three months: Tom was an oral bottom and very affectionate in bed, but Maury couldn't handle his attraction to men and women both.

"Well, did Tom Rettig hookup with Tony Dow when they were teenagers?  Some youthful experimentation on Tony's part?"

"I don't know -- the Satyr never mentioned that.  And he's gone now, so there's no way to ask.  I don't remember Maury's last name."

There's a post on Tommy Rettig on Boomer Beefcake and Bonding.

3. Christian Osmond

On The New Leave It to Beaver (1983-1989), many of the original cast members reprised their roles.  Ken Osmond returned as the officious Eddie Haskell, his sons played by his real-life sons, Eric (born 1971) and Christian (born 1974).  Christian appeared in only 10 episodes; he decided that he didn't like acting, and trained to become a veterinarian ("Dogs treat you better than most people.")

Infinite Chazz's friend Riley met him in 2004, when he brought his dog in for vaccinations.  Christian was very buffed, with short blond hair, a short beard, a gleaming smooth chest, and an enormous Kielbasa.

At first Riley thought he was related to Donny and Marie Osmond, but soon he heard about The New Leave it to Beaver.  During dinner, Christian told him about growing up gay in the household of conservative actor-turned-cop Ken Osmond.

"Did Christian mention Tony Dow?" I asked.  "Cruising guys, bringing a boyfriend to the set, helping him come out, anything?" 

"Nothing that I remember," Infinite Chazz replied. 

4. The Physique Photographer

Many people don't realize that Leave It to Beaver was not a big hit during its first run -- kids liked it, but adults regularly switched the channel to Perry Mason or a Western.  And since Tony Dow was under 18 for all but the last few episodes, his paycheck went directly to his parents. 

He spent the years 1963-1965 scrounging around for guest spots on second-rate tv shows, always broke, with debts mounting.

Glenn Corbett, the bisexual actor who would soon star in Route 66 , made extra money posing for physique magazines -- displaying muscular guys, naked except for posing straps, for a closeted gay audience. 

He gave Tony the telephone number of a photographer named Jim, one of Randall the Muscle Bear's friends, who ran a magazine called Tomorrow's Man.  One afternoon Tony went up for a shoot under the name "Tony Williams," flexing by the pool in a small posing strap.

Unfortunately, Tomorrow's Man ceased publication before the photos could be published, and they were subsequently stolen by one of Jim's tricks.  Chances are they are still lying in a dresser drawer in a house in West Hollywood, waiting to be discovered and posted on the internet.

"But was there a hookup?  With Glenn Corbett, or with Jim the Photographer?"

"Jim didn't say whether they hooked up or not," Randall replied.  "It wasn't a celebrity dating story, it was a 'don't trust a trick' story."

There are no more leads.  No one, it seems, has dated Tony Dow, or fantasized a chance encounter into a story to tell at parties.

Gay celebrity dating stories aren't just gossip.  They reveal something insightful about the speaker -- the romance or sexual encounter helped him to come out, to understand himself and his place in the world.

Maybe there are no stories about dating Tony Dow because he helped guys understand themselves in other ways , by playing Wally Cleaver, by displaying his 1960s physique, by being a quiet, calm presence throughout our lives.

See also: Who Is Tony Dow's Boyfriend

As of July 27th, 2022, the 77-year old Tony is in hospice care, 

The Bisexual Fairy Godfather of the Summer of 1984

Between 1982 and 1984, I was studying for my M.A. in English at Indiana University.  I did not do well.  I couldn't focus on any one topic, or any one department -- I rushed around in the 3,000+ courses taught every semester, grabbing onto things like Mandarin Chinese and Russian Folklore, and ignoring my actual English classes

Besides, who had time to study?  I had just discovered bar pickups.  My friend Viju and I were out at Bullwinkel's, or a a gay bar in Indianapolis, two or three times a week, and we never came home alone.

Sometimes I brought a guy home, had sex with him, then went back to the bar to pick up someone else.

Meanwhile my classes faltered, and I squeaked by with B's and an occasional C+.  In grad school, anything below an A is considered failing. But who cared?   I was going to become a book editor, not a literature scholar.

So I squeaked by, and in the spring of 1984, I sent out resumes:130 publishing companies, 48 newspapers,  34 television stations, and 16 translation agencies.   No openings, no openings, no openings, no openings.

Classes ended. I received my M.A..  No job. I spent ten days visiting India with Viju, then a week in Rock Island, then returned to Bloomington.

I couldn't afford our apartment any more, so I got a room in Eigenmann Hall, and went back to my old job in the snack bar.

It was fun when I was a student.  But as my life's work?.  I imagined myself at age 50, still living in that coffin-sized room with the bathroom down the hall, still selling burgers and fries to undergrads.

All of my friends had graduated and moved away.  And any new friends I made would graduate and move away, again and again, an every-changing blur of faces and cocks for the rest of my life.

That summer was an endless cold, dark night.

53 people died in a mass shooting at a McDonald's in San Ysidro, California, the worst mass shooting in modern American history.

The lunatic in the White House (not as bad as the Orange Goblin, but still a lunatic) almost ended the world by "joking" that the U.S. had launched nuclear missiles at the Soviet Union.

The AIDS crisis was making national news for the first time, and dubbed "a gay disease."  Fundamentalist churches latched onto it to decry the "clinically insane, disease-ridden homosexuals" coming for your children.

All four of the factories in Rock Island closed, doubling the unemployment rate.  My father and brother were both laid off.  I couldn't even fall back on a factory job.

The movies I saw (by myself) are now hailed as classics, but I found them depressing: Ghostbusters, Gremlins, The Karate Kid, The Neverending Story, Revenge of the Nerds, Bachelor Party, Conan the Destroyer

Laura Branigan's "Self Control" was playing on the radio:

I live among the creatures of the night.
I haven't got the will to try and fight.
I must believe in something, so I guess I'll just believe that this night will never go.

Then came my fairy godfather, aka Ben, who worked in the bank downtown.  He was my teller when I withdrew some money (this was before ATMs), and two nights later I saw him at Bullwinkle's.

About ten years older than me, a chunky redhead with a long face, a smooth chest, and no biceps to speak of.  Not at all my type.

And bisexual -- he mentioned watching Family Ties, not for the hot teen idol Michael J. Fox, but for Meredith Baxter Birney, who played his mother!

I couldn't help imagining Ben screwing the lady.  His butt bouncing up and down while he plowed into her lady parts, squeezing her breasts, kissing her.  Gross!  Complete turn-off.

But I was depressed, and I would have gone home with Boy George just to avoid going back to my coffin-sized room in Eigenmann Hall.

Ben had a house in Unionville, about 10 miles of dark, scary country roads from campus. An old-fashioned wood-and-plaster living room, a four-poster bed with black sheets, a drawer-ful of porn magazines, both gay and straight.  Very cold for July.

We didn't start kissing until we were both under the sheets.  He had smooth, soft chest, a bubble butt, and a big cock, about 8", thick and ruddy.  I went down on him, and he finished with interfemoral.  Then he beat me off while we were kissing.  Not bad.

After the sex, it was too early to sleep, and I didn't want to  leave, so we sat up and turned on Saturday Night Live. I told Ben about my master's degree, my dismal job prospects, and my future at the Eigenmann Hall snack bar.  He said that he was working on a Ph.D. in sociology --- very slowly.  This was his seventh year in the program, and he wasn't nearly ready to start his dissertation.  The job at the bank took up most of his time.  But he still planned to finish, and become a college professor.

"I love being in front of a class -- it's an amazing rush.  Hey, why don't you go to work at a college?  They always need teachers."

"Yuck!" I exclaimed.  "I taught during my first year.  Surly students who didn't read their assignments, didn't know even the basics about...well, anything, and made homophobic comments."

"It beats making hamburgers, I bet.  Besides, just think of the beefcake!"

"But it's July.  Won't they have all the teachers they need for the fall?"

"Let's find out."  Ben walked naked into the next room and came back with The Chronicle of Higher Education.  5 English teaching jobs available in the fall that required just a M.A.

A month later, I was heading for Hell-fer-Sartain, Texas, an English instructor. It would be horrible, but later, I would teach as an adjunct, then get my Ph.D. (not in English), and spend the next twenty years standing in the front of classrooms.

It definitely beats making hamburgers.

And Ben was right.  The beefcake is amazing.

I Land a Date with the Water Delivery Guy

Upstate,  April 2009

Chad the Satyr's housemate and I broke up around Valentine's Day, and I was ready to start dating and hooking up again.

I was getting tired of the Gang of Twelve, the guys in Upstate New York who all had dated each other over the years and knew each other's secrets and gossipped constantly.   So although I continued accepting dates with the Klingon, the Sword Swallower, and the Pitcher with a Secret Move, I started looking at other guys.

Like the water man.

That spring water coolers were all the rage.  Tap water was unsafe, or at least the media said so, so everybody installed a water cooler in the kitchen, with a 5-gallon, 40-pound tank that had to be changed every week.

It was tricky changing the tanks yourself without splashing water all over, so the water companies offered a service whereby "the water man" would knock on your door once a week with a new bottle to replace the old.

They hired only the most muscular guys for the job, and my water guy, Pete, was no exception: in his 30s, short, dark-haired, with a v-shaped torso, an oval face and big hands.  And a wedding ring.

None of the Gang of Twelve had ever heard of him.

Not gay.

Still, every Wednesday afternoon, when Pete arrived with my water, we chatted a little longer than usual, made a little extra eye contact.  Sometimes I "accidentally" had my shirt off to see if his eyes widened.

They did.

Pete told me he was from Long Island, where he and his wife owned a house.  He came to town studying music at the University.  It was very expensive trying to maintain a house and an apartment, so he took the water-delivery job to make extra money.

"What does your wife do?" I asked.

"Sally is a teacher back on Long Island," Pete said.  "We're separated."

Separated?  The precursor to a divorce?

It made perfect sense.  Why did he choose a music school upstate, when there were so many options closer to Long Island?  He wanted to get as far from his wife as possible, to make a fresh start as he explored the gay world.

Now I just had to seal the deal.

#1: Let him "figure it out."   Straight guys always assume that everyone in the world is straight, but gay guys are always looking for clues.  I said "I just broke up with someone, and I'm trying to rid my apartment of all of their stuff.  Could you use some cds of Haydn, Bach, and Tchaikovsky?"

His eyes lit up as he deciphered someone and their as closet-speak for a guy and his.

#2: Physical contact.  We had chatted several times during the winter and spring, but I never actually touched him.  I said, "Hey, could you teach me how to change the bottles?  In case I run out before the end of the week?"

I changed gigantic bottles of milk and soda when I was in grad school, but he didn't need to know that.

I "accidentally" slipped, spilling some of the water on the floor.  Pete grabbed me. Massive hard chest against my back, shoulders against my shoulders, both of us laughing and sliding.

"Are you ok?"

"I will be in a minute."  I turned.  We kissed.

Pete had more deliveries that day, of course, so he couldn't stick around.  He returned in the evening, ready to go -- apparently he wasn't newly out, but had been seeing guys "on the downlow" before he and his wife separated.

His beautiful physique was all from "genetics" and lifting bottles of water -- he claimed that he never worked out.  He was small beneath the belt, but still a top, which I didn't mind for a change of pace.  The only thing I didn't like were his fetishes.  The clothes pins and whips were ok, but I drew a line at the lady's underwear.

We dated for about three weeks, long enough to count as boyfriends, at least by gay community rules.  A movie, the opera -- Wagner's Das Liebesverbot -- and two music recitals at the college, plus the antique and collectible shops of Cooperstown -- Pete was big into the kitchy nostalgia of the 1950s.

Muscular, musical, and into pop culture -- there might be a future here!

But I was hearing an awful lot about Sally, the separated wife back on Long Island.  She loved Thai food.  She was a big fan of Elton John.  She was looking for a new job.

One day at breakfast in Morey's Restaurant, he mentioned that Sally had a head cold.

"Wait -- how do you know she has a cold?" I asked.

"I just talked to her last night," Pete said nonchalantly.

"What for?"

"I talk to her every night."

I started to feel hot.  "What for?" I repeated.  "You're separated.  You have a new life now.  Shouldn't you be severing ties?"

He stared.  "That's right, we're separated.  By 200 miles.  I think about her all the time.  I can't wait until we're back together again."

Not a legal separation, a physical separation!  Now I was feeling really hot.  My stomach was churning.  "But...but...then what are we?"

"Why, friends, of course."

"But we...we...in the bedroom...."

"Oh, we have an open relationship. In fact, if you're not doing anything on the 9th, how about coming back to Long Island for a visit?  Sally would love to watch us, or maybe join in.  Are you into three-ways?"

"What?  Are you crazy?"  The thought made me nauseous. "I gotta go...."  I bolted from the restaurant and fled to the safety of my car.

No more weirdness for me!  From now on, I'm meeting men the old fashioned way -- picking them up in bars.

See also: The Museum Guard in My Bed.; My 12 Porn Movie Hookups

Bob Hooks Up with Five Guys at the Lake House

Upstate, July 2017

Bob's version of what happened during our three nights with my ex-boyfriend Troy and his current boyfriend Charles:

I've never had a boyfriend before -- I only was with one guy before meeting Boomer -- so when he asked me to come along on his visit to his ex-boyfriend and his current boyfriend, I didn't know what to think!

But it was a chance to see mountains, and Cooperstown -- the Baseball Hall of Fame! -- and spend 12 nights in bed with a guy.  If you've never slept -- just slept -- with a guy before, try it out.  I'd rather do that than get a blow job!

Friday

We have dinner in Cooperstown with Troy and Charles. Troy, Boomer's ex, is your standard twink, about 30, short, hairy chest, big cock.  But Charles is amazing, exactly my type: about 50, tall, broad-shouldered, thick slabs of muscle!

After dinner we go to the lake house, where they invite us for a midnight boat ride.  Boomer doesn't want to go, but I do.  We take this 8-seater motorboat out around the lake, Charles driving while Troy and I grope and make out (Boomer said I could go with other guys).  Then we stop, and Charles drops his pants -- biggest, thickest Mortadella+ I've ever seen!

Troy and I team up to suck him and lick his balls, and then Troy and Charles go down on me at th same time.  It's intense, in the dark, with the boat bobbing up and down.  Afterwards we go skinny-dipping to wash off -- the water's cold, but we don't care!

I'm so revved up that I can't wait to get back to the house and make out with Boomer.  He lets me go down on him, as long as I'm quiet.

Saturday

In the morning we drive into town to go to the gym, and then find a coffee house loaded with wall-to-wall college guys.  Then back to the lake house.  In the early afternoon, guests start to arrive, until there are over 40 people crammed into the small house and on the decks and in the boats.

Score!  Charles' relatives are incredible.  I figure most of them are straight, but who cares?  I'm around straight people all the time.

I go swimming with Charles' cousin, a chubby bear with a big basket and trunks that keep riding down his butt.

Pontooning with his nephew Trace, a little older than me, smooth and very muscular, with a tattoo of a bull smelling flowers on his chest.

And I go kayaking with Aram, who is a real musician!  

Later Trace and Aram invite us to meet up with their girlfriends and some other people in town.  Boomer stays home.  We go to this coffee house that has live music, and Trace introduces me to Rick, a very cute black guy in his 30s who used to sing backup for Rihanna!

We end up at Trace's apartment, making out, and Rick and I go into the bedroom.  He has a smooth, hard chest and a 8" uncut cock. He goes down on me for awhile, and then he pushes me onto the bed and thrusts between my legs while we're kissing.  It's called interfemoral -- Boomer likes it, too.  It's intense!

Suddenly Trace is knocking at the door.  "You guys about ready to go back to the house? Janine left already, and it's after midnight."

"Hold your horses," Rick yells.  "Or come in here, and I'll hold them for you."

Trace comes in, takes off his shirt and pants, and straddles me, pushing his cock into my mouth while Rick is still doing interfemoral.  He's not very big, but he's hard as a rock!  Then we switch positions, and Rick tops Trace while he's going down on me.

Trace is bi, in case you didn't notice.

Back at the lake house, I try interfemoral with Boomer, my first time on top of him.  It's great!  You're feeling his whole body, not just his cock.

Sunday

Aram invites us to breakfast at his house.  Then we go into Oneonta to church and to meet a couple of Boomer's friends for lunch.

In the afternoon, we go to the Baseball Hall of Fame -- incredible!  I could spend all day there.  I start up a conversation with a high school boy named Jesus (Hay-Zoos), from Mexico, but he doesn't look Hispanic.  I mean, he has light skin and light brown hair.  I didn't know they played baseball in Mexico!

He's staying with his family at the Otesaga Resort, and he invites us to go swimming.  Boomer doesn't want to go, so we go by ourselves.

Except we never make it to the swimming!  The minute we get inside his room, we start kissing and groping.  Jesus goes down on me, and then I push him on the bed for interfemoral -- he's never done that before.  When I finish, I beat him off while kissing him.

He's on snapchat.

In the evening Boomer and I have dinner with Troy and Charles, then return to the lake house.  We watch tv for awhile, and then Charles and his grandparents go out onto the deck. Boomer goes to bed.

"I haven't been with Boomer yet," Troy says, "And tomorrow you guys are leaving."

"He's nervous about doing anything with Charles' grandparents in the next room," I tell him.

"Well, they're not in the next room now.  Let's go surprise him!"

We go into the bedroom, and I start kissing Boomer while Troy goes down on him. But he takes a long time, so Troy and I start working on him together.  Finally he turns over and goes down on me, then Troy.  Then Troy leaves, and Boomer and I cuddle.


Monday

Charles and Troy have to get up very early to go to work, so we get up early, too.  We're on the road before the sun rises.

"Sorry you had to go through that ordeal," Boomer says. "Charles' family was nice and all, but so darn heterosexual!  I can't wait to get to the Flex Club in Cleveland, and get some action."

"What are you talking about? It was nonstop action.  I can't even remember all the guys who went down on me. Five or six guys, not counting you!  I had a blast!"

Unfortunately, I was too tired to go to the Flex Club later.

See also: Boomer's Version; and 13 Guys in One Night in Cleveland.

Micro-Identities: More than Just LGBTQAAII

So, are you bringing anybody to the party?

"Actually, I'm asexual.  An estimated 2% of the population is asexual.  They aren't interested in sex, although they may agree to sex to please a partner.   Another 2-3% is aromantic, not interested in romantic partnerships.  They may be interested in sexual activity, or not.

I didn't ask if you wanted to have sex with them.  I just asked if....

In fact, there is a whole spectrum of desire, behavior, and identity where you can place yourself.

Desire (for sexual activity):

Asexual: No sexual attraction to another person, although they have a libido (sexual interest) and enjoy sex with other people.  Or not, but willing to do it as a favor for a friend or partner.    Or they may be actiely repulsed by the idea of sex.

Wait -- you can have sexual interest, but not be attracted to someone.  Why do you want to have sex with someone you aren't attracted to?

For the release, for stimulation, for recreation.  Anyway, demisexual: No sexual attraction to another person until they develop a close emotional bond (i.e., never on the first date).  Or no libido unless they are with someone with a close emotional bond.

Gray-asexual: Occasional sexual attraction or desire for sexual activity with another person.

Allosexual: Regular sexual attraction and/or desire for sexual activity with another person.

So you can be allosexual for sexual attraction but demi-ace for sexual activity...


We make the same spectrum with romance(the desire for a strong emotional bond with someone).

Aromantic:  No romantic interest, regardless of the desire for sex or sexual attraction with anothe person.

I know lots of guys like that....

Demiromantic:  No romantic interest until you've had sex.

Gray-aromantic: Only occasional romantic interest.

Romantic: Romantic interest.

Can you have a romantic partner if you're aromantic?

Sure, but they would be more like a sex partner who you happen to live with.  For both sexual and romantic interest, you can be:

Gay/lesbian:  Same sex only

Heterosexual: Opposite sex only

Bisexual: Both sexes.

Pansexual: Open to both sexes as well as non-binary persons.

What if you want sex with men but romance with women, or romance with men but sex with women?  Are you bisexual?

Probably you're gay allosexual aromantic and heterosexual asexual romantic.

So you can bring an aromantic allosexual partner, or a romantic asexual buddy, or your brother, or your nonbinary sibling. I don't care.

Now let's discuss your gender identity.

Cisgender male/female:Gender identity matches the male/female binary.

Transgender: Gender identity matches the male/female binary, but is different from birth sex.

Nonbinary: Gender identity does not match the male/female binary, or changes from day to day.

Whatever.  Nobody is taking their clothes off, so nobody will care what you have down there.

That's another identity altogether, your sex.  You can be male, female, or intersexed.

I'll bet even you can't keep all of these identities straight, so to speak.  Check this out: Rodney is a gay gray-asexual romantic pansexual.  Who is he dating and having sex with?

He is into romantic relationships with anyone,but is only interested in sex occasionally,and always with men.

Ok. Boris is a gay romantic asexual.  Can he be transgender too?

Sure, a gay romantic asexual transman.  

Dude, I just want to know if you're bringing a guest to the party.

Steven Hooks Up with George Maharis in Judy Garland's Dressing Room

Another email celebrity hookup story:

Hollywood, September 1963.

In 1963 my ex-boyfriend Steven was a 21-year old Cute Young Thing, newly arrived from Georgia with aspirations of becoming a great director (he ended up in human relations). This isn't him, of course, but it's close to his look in those days, before he hippied out: thick brown hair, Clark Kent glasses, flawless skin.  This guy's dick is a little smaller.

Steven's first job in the business was as a production assistant on The Judy Garland Show (1963-1964) at CBS Television City, which as you remember is that gigantic pillbox on Fairfax.  Judy Garland was 41 years old, well past her heyday at MGM, and though she could still draw a crowd of middle-aged gay men, the younger generation found her insufferably square -- and way too pushy.

They didn't have the term "sexual harassment" back then, but everybody knew that there were two people in Hollywood that you should never be alone with: Liberace, who would grope you as soon as talk to you, and Judy Garland.

Garland didn't like twinks or Cute Young Things, but there was no man over 30, stage hand, dancer, or guest star, who was safe from her grabby hands and open-mouthed kisses. She had no sense of decorum: she would grab your crotch while saying hello.  Even in front of the camera: the studio audience noticed that she was fondling the guest stars, and the president of CBS [Michael Dann] had to tell her to tone it down.  

It was a major problem.  She didn't care if you were married or single, into her or not, if her husband Sid Luft or one of her kids was in the room.  She liked the gay men the best: a challenge, I guess.

 George Maharis, the gay but closeted beefcake star, signed on for a September 1963 episode [air date October 20th].  He had just been kicked off Route 66  due to the gay rumors (ironically replaced by his own ex-boyfriend Glenn Corbett), and he needed the exposure.  He could show off his comedy and singing talent to a new audience, maybe get a sitcom, like his gay friend Jim Nabors (Gomer Pyle, USMC, 1962-1969).

But he didn't realize that Judy was so grabby.   When they met, she greeted him with a full-body hug and an open-mouth kiss.

He backed off in shock, but she said "I know a lot of women have tried and failed, but I have something they don't have.  Clout.  I can make one phone call, and you'll have your own show next season.  We'll put it on right after mine -- won't that be cozy?"

As they rehearsed, it slowly dawned on George that Judy invited him on the show with the explicit goal of "showing him her trailer," code for getting him in the sack.

Steven, the very cute, friendly-but-not-grabby production assistant, invited him out for a drink and confirmed his fears.  Jerry Van Dyke was supposed to be a regular, but when he refused "the trailer"  -- he was happily married -- he was canned.

Bobby Darrin tried to refuse too, but Judy threatened to use her clout to get him black-listed.

"Fortunately, she hasn't laid a finger on me," Steven said. "She's not interested in young guys.  I suspect she doesn't want to compete with Liza [her daughter, 17 year old Liza Minelli].  Hey, maybe you should start dating Liza -- that might make Judy back off."

George shuddered.  "Out of the frying pan, into the fire.  I've never been with a woman before -- I don't think I could perform, regardless of whether it's Liza or Judy or Marilyn Monroe."

"Me, either," Steven agreed.

"But my career is on shaky ground, with the gay rumors.  It couldn't take a k-o from Judy's clout."

Steven touched him on the shoulder.  "I can take care of it.  The key is to make her think she's rejecting you, not getting rejected.  And I know how.

The next day, before the filming, Judy grabbed George's arm.  "You've been putting me off all week, but today you're definitely getting a tour of that trailer," she said, not kind or flirtatious but with a forceful glare.

"Oh, I've been looking forward to it," George said, patting her hand.  "But could I bring a friend along?  My friend is a big fan, and would love your autograph."

"I don't do trios," Judy said sternly.  "I couldn't possibly share you with another woman."

"This is a man."

"Oh -- well, that's different.  I had no idea that you were that sort of fellow, Georgie.  It makes men considerably more charming, don't you think?"  All smiles. Judy told her assistant "Leave us be for an hour," and led George away.

"So, who is this mystery lover?"  Judy asked.  "Glenn Corbett, I hope?"

"It's a surprise."

 When they arrived at the trailer, Steven was already there -- one of his jobs was to restock the fridge with snacks.  Before Judy could speak, George rushed up and kissed him.  Steven wrapped his arms around his waist and grabbed onto his butt.

"This is your friend, I take it," Judy said dryly.  "Isn't it close to his bedtime?"

George began fondling Steven's penis.  He immediately started to tent.  "I'm 21, Ma'am.  Big fan."

"I can see that, Junior.  Shouldn't you be out somewhere, trying to win a boy scout merit badge?"

Steven laughed.  "Very funny, Ma'am."

"The old chestnuts are the best, aren't they?" George asked.  He began to nuzzle Steven's neck.  "Timeless, like an old bottle of wine."

"It was my Grandma who got me into your work..."  Steven continued.

"Grandma, huh?"

 George pushed him into another kiss.  Steven tore his shirt off, putting his smooth, slim twink chest on display.

"Um...she used to baby sit me, and she let me watch your old movies on the late show.  From when she was a little girl.  They were fascinating, like a time machine taking me into the distant past...."

"Oh, yes, Hollywood in the old day.  Orange groves and dinosaurs."

George fell to his knees, unzipped Steven's pants, and started going down on him.  Steven grabbed his head and thrust into his mouth.

"George said you wouldn't mind...if I tagged along," Steven murmured between thrust.  "I like old ladies...I mean, ladies..."

That was enough for Judy.  She swung about abruptly and headed for the bedroom.  "Include me out, kiddies."

"Are you sure?" George called.  "I don't mind...."

"And be sure you clean up after yourselves.  I don't need any teenage jizz ruining my carpets."

The taping went on as usual.  Judy did nothing to hurt George's career: he worked steadily through the 1980s.  But Steven was fired the next day.

Steven stayed friends with George Maharis for many years,but they had lost contact by the time we started dating in 1992.

They're lucky that the "remind Judy of her advancing age" strategy worked.  What would they have done if she agreed to a bisexual menage-a-trois?

See also: Get Your Beefcake on Route 66.

Is My Nephew Gay?

Indianapolis, September 2016

My sister and her husband moved to Indianapolis shortly after they married.  Terry worked as a car salesman, then ran a car detailing service, while Tammy worked as a secretary, office manager, and finally Assistant Director of Sports Information at a small Methodist college.

It soon became obvious that their son Joseph, born in 1990, had no interest in either cars or sports.  He liked acting, singing, dancing, and modeling.  When he was eight years old, he appeared in some local tv commercials.  When he was twelve, he starred in a community theater production of The Little Prince.

He was also interested was cooking.  He won a chili cookoff at age thirteen, baked homemade bread and pasta, and insisted that the family try every ethnic restaurant in Indianapolis, from Ethiopian to Indonesian.

He started taking Japanese in junior high and went on a study tour of China in high school.

As a teenager, Joseph was tall and slim, with curly blond hair and striking brown eyes, very handsome, and very fey, swishing and limp-wristed, with that nasal "gay accent" voice.  He wore bright pastel shirts and tight bulging jeans and plastic bracelets.

Definitely gay, I thought.

His parents didn't think so.


At age 12:  "He's got a girlfriend at school he hangs out with!"
At age 13:  "He joined the community theater to meet girls!"
At age 14:  "He'll be discovering girls soon, and then, watch out!"
At age 15:  "He's so handsome, all the girls will be lining up to date him."
At age 16:  "He's shy around girls, but he'll come around...."
At age 17:  "He's much too busy to date...."
At age 18:  "There are so many girls he likes, he can't settle on one, so he's going to the senior prom in a group of friends."

I tried my best to let Joseph know that it was ok to be gay, without actually saying that I thought he was:

I gave him a box of books, including several young adult novels on gay topics.

We had conversations about gay writers Yukio Mishima, Oscar Wilde, and Tennessee Williams.

I invited him to visit "me and Yuri" in Florida (he didn't come).

I invited him and "whatever friend you want" to see Angels in America (he came alone).

In 2008, Joseph enrolled at Indiana University, planning a dual major in East Asian Languages and theater.  He wanted to study the "Noh Theater" of Japan.


And he got a girlfriend!

Jan, a fellow theater major from a small town in southern Indiana.

In 2010, my boyfriend Troy and I drove to Indianapolis for Christmas, and met her at Christmas Eve Dinner.

Or at least we met the back of her head.  The rest of her was attached to Joseph.  Every moment they weren't eating or unwrapping a present, they were exploring each other's tonsils.

Her conversation was: "I'm planning [kiss] to concentrate  [kiss] in children's [kiss] theater [kiss]."

Tammy and Terry beamed.  I imagine they were feeling anxious about the possibility of Joseph being gay through his whole life, and now they were validated!  He was straight after all!

I was devastated.  I had spent the last ten years mentoring a gay kid...but he wasn't!

When they graduated in 2012, Joseph enrolled in the doctoral program in Central Asian Languages in Bloomington, and Jan got a job at the Children's Museum in Indianapolis.  They moved into an apartment together in Franklin, Indiana, about halfway between.

Straight -- but...

I found a profile on a gay dating app of a guy who looked like Joseph and was the right age.

Joseph belonged to a couple of gay groups on Facebook, including a Queer News Service.

Half of his Facebook friends were men.

In 2016, he borrowed his father's 1969 Chevy Camero to drive in the Indianapolis Gay Pride Parade (because 1969 was the year of the Stonewall Riots, the beginning of the modern Gay Rights Movement).

Straight ally?  Bisexual?  Genderqueer?

Last September, back in Indianapolis for a funeral, I determined to find out.

I couldn't ask, or -- God forbid -- cruise him, but I could use the age old "eye-widening" technique.



There were a lot of pictures on my phone from my trip to Mexico, including the standard sights, some random friends, and some swimsuit pictures of hot men.  I showed them to Joseph, checking to see which he spent time on and which he flipped through quickly.

He spent time on the hot men.

See also:Nephew Sausage Sighting #5;  We Teach My Nephew the Gay Facts of Life

Looking for Bears in the Straight World

Plains, April 2014

The problem with living on the Plains is, all the gay men look like this.

Smooth, blond, 21.

Anxious to get you into bed, but not to be friends afterwards.

And if you do become friends, they won't be around long: they're planning to run off to the nearest gay neighborhood as soon as possible.

The guys who stick around past 30 are typically heavily closeted, on the downlow, with wives and girlfriends waiting at home, requiring "discretion" for hookups and no socialization after.

So how do I build up a friendship network, like the ones I had in West Hollywood, Florida, and even Upstate?  Guys to chat with at the bars, see at parties, have over for dinner.

Maybe if I find some bears -- chubby, husky, hairy guys, typically over 40, therefore more settled, likely to stick around town for awhile.

1. Work

There's a gay employees group that meets at a different restaurant in town once a month.

January:  12 lesbians, 2 straight allies, 1 gay man in his twenties who gives me Attitude.

You get Attitude just trying to make friends?

February: 6 lesbians, 4 straight allies, no gay men.

March: 8 lesbians, 4 straight allies, 1 gay man: Mike, a professor of education in his 60s, who agrees to a date later.

A muscle bear, rather handsome, with a hairy chest and a little belly, and a nice Kielbasa.

It's not really a date, since we never leave my apartment.  A little conversation, bedroom activities (mostly oral), and he leaves.

When I suggest more activities, he states that he's busy: club meetings, organizations, dinners with straight friends every night of the week.  But he'd be happy to come over for another hookup.
 

2. Church.


There are only two gay-welcoming churches in town. I select the Unitarian-Universalist Fellowship, which is more dedicated to social issues than spiritual enlightenment.  Every Sunday there's a new sermon on something I should feel guilty about.

I'm not eating organic, free-range, fair-trade, low-carbon footprint, locally-grown potatoes;

I'm shopping in stores that oppress workers in Guatemala.

My fitness regiment is elitist, oppressing the poor who don't have the time and money to join a gym.

I drive a car.

Besides, there's only one gay couple, Hank and Wayne, 50s and 70s, and they're totally assimilated, hanging out with straight people all the time.

I try to befriend them anyway, and end up with an evening of intense boredom, discussions of room additions and favorite recipes, and a date with their 21-year old boy toy, Jimmy.

3. Bear Parties

In West Hollywood and New York, there were bear parties every weekend, where 30 guys got together for socializing and sex.  Why couldn't I host one on the Plains?

I put an ad on craigslist and some social media sites: Bear Party, husky/hairy/chubby guys and their admirers.

Crickets.  Silence.  A few inquiries like "Will there be any really goodlooking guys there?" and "Will there be any young, cute guys there?"

Five guys show up, all smooth twinks in their 20s.

Ok.  I try again: "Gay and Grey Hookup Night."  Younger ok, but over 40 especially welcome.

More inquiries like "Will there be any young, cute guys there?"

This time I get six guys, all over 40.  All closeted, downlow, "is this discreet?", with constant discussions of "my wife" and "isn't this or that actress hot."

Sex only (mostly oral), no socializing later: "I told my wife I was out shopping for tires."

Ok, one more time:  "All ages and body types welcome."

Twenty guys, ten closeted downlow "is this discreet?" bisexual chubby bears, the rest out-and-proud, open gay twinks.

I guess I'm stuck with the twinks.

There are worse fates.


See also: My Platonic Friends and Their Boy Toy; Yuri and the Muscle Daddies.

15 Rules for Hooking Up with Straight, Bisexual, and Downlow Guys

In West Hollywood many people believed that there was no such thing as a straight man.  Exclusive same-sex desire was a universal of human experience. Men who called themselves straight were just too weak or cowardly to resist the heterosexist chant of "what girl do you like?  what girl do you like? what girl do you like?"

Today we know that some men are, in fact, heterosexual, with no conscious same-sex attraction.

But others, a much larger proportion, are on the downlow, heterosexual as far as anyone knows, with wives and kids, acting on their same-sex desires only anonymously, in secret.

Others are bisexual, desiring both men and women, perhaps equally, perhaps men only occasionally, as a special "playtime."

  Still others are heterosexual, but willing to "settle" for a man if no woman is available.  What does it matter -- sex is sex..

The last three categories are open for cruising, and in small towns with a limited gay population, tremendously increase your chances of success.  But you have to be careful.  Cruising a straight or downlow man requires a whole new set of skills, and a whole new set of rules:

1. Cruise online. Straight men rarely go to gay venues, lest they be seen, and in public places they are always with women or with straight male friends who don't "know."

2. Find out how straight he is.  How occasional is his interest in men?  If he meets guys once a month or less, ok.  If he's always seeking out guys, then he's a traitor, enjoying all of the privileges that come with heterosexual identity, hoping to enjoy sexual freedom while letting "real" gay people do all the work of fighting homophobic injustice.  He's a pathetic loser.  Move on.

3. Find out how homophobic he is.  Many straight guys with occasional same-sex interests overcompensate by denigrating gay people, especially those who are open.  "I don't shout it from the housetops!" he yells.  "Marching in parades, broadcasting your sexual preferences!"  Move on.

4. Skip the first-timers.  "I've never done this before.  I've thought about it, but I've never had the nerve..."  Yeah, right.  He's been saying that for the last five years, enjoying the thought of a same-sex liaison, but always losing his nerve.  And if he does actually show up, there's no way the reality can live up to his fantasy.

5. Arrange for a daytime meeting, at your place.  Chances are these will be required anyway, since he's busy with women at night, and there are people at his place who "can't find out."

6. But not for "right now."  Anybody willing to come over "right now," without finding out a little bit about where he's going and who he's meeting, is bound to be a dud.

7. A face photo is a must.  Not necessarily to determine his degree of hotness -- it's probably 20 years old, and photoshopped.  To determine his degree of openness.  No face photo: very skittish, probably a no-show.

8 Get contact information.  A last name, a working cell phone number, an email address.  And use it to make sure it's not fake.  It might come in handy later.

9. Give him the geographic layout of your place.  He believes that passersby will see him and infer somehow that he is having a same-sex hookup.  That's ridiculous, of course, but a pedestrian on the street outside your house, or a neighbor in the hallway of your building, could make him bail.  So warn him in advance if it's apartment, if there are other houses close by, if its a well-traveled pedestrian area, and so on.

10. He gets only two chances to show up.  You wait half an hour for him to show up.  Later that day you get an email: "Sorry, the wife asked where I was going" or "Sorry, I saw somebody who looked like somebody I work with."  Set up another meeting -- we all have scheduling problems.  But if he doesn't show up the second time, move on.

11. Have a friend present.  Hopefully you've screened out the straight guys with malicious intent, and the ones who are so skittish that they might freak out over their "sordid act" and attack.  But just in case, have a friend present.

You can also protect yourself by telling your friend about the meeting, and sending him the straight guy's complete contact information.

12. ID all Cute Young Things.  14, 15, and 16 year olds lie about their age and background all the time, and saying "He told me he was 18!" is not an excuse.  If there's any doubt, ask for an ID.

13. Don't be afraid to tell him "stop talking about women."  Straight guys love to talk about women, especially during a same-sex hookup.  It reassures them that they're "really" straight.  They'll tell you all about their wives and girlfriends, discuss the attractiveness of various actresses, ask about your heterosexual dalliances, bemoan the refusal of most women to engage in their favorite sexual activities.

Don't say "Women!  Gross!"  Say something like "This is a men-only zone. For the next hour, we celebrate the masculine!"

14. Don't be afraid to give him a Gay 101 lecture.  A surprising number of straight guys have had no connection whatever to gay history and culture.  They don't know that there are gay organizations.  They don't know about Stonewall.  They are unaware of contemporary battles over workplace discrimination, religious harassment, and marriage equality.  Enlighten him, either during the online chat, or during the meeting.

15. If you see him in public afterwards, let him lead.  Straight guys are often worried that talking to a gay person in public, in any capacity, identifies them as gay.  Or they might not want their wives and straight male friends asking "So, where did you meet him?"  If he says hello first, stop to chat.  If he pretends not to know you, give him your best Attitude.

See also: 15 Rules of Gay Cruising;