Six Degrees of Separation: From Fred to Fred's First Lover

They say that everyone on Earth is connected to each other by, at most, six degrees of separation, networks of "a friend of a friend of a friend."  That's especially true in the gay world, where men move from gay neighborhood to gay neighborhood, seeing the same faces, seeking the same hangouts.

So look carefully at your next date or hookup: chances are you, or someone you know, has been with him before.  If you dig deeply enough into the histories of your lovers, you will run into your ex lovers there, a chain of emotional and erotic experiences that extends back through history.

1. Fred, my first boyfriend, We met in December 1979, during my sophomore year in college, when he was a 28-year old intern at the United Methodist Church in Rock Island.  We dated for a few months, lived together during a disastrous summer in Omaha, and then stayed friends for the next thirty years.

2. Matt. While working as a mental health counselor in Kansas City in May 1987,  Fred met Matt, a recent graduate of Harvard University, snobby, elitist, and crazy, with the habit of talking constantly during sex, in three languages.  "Oh, mon etalon...nearly there..soon, soon...ich werde kommen...."  They stayed together for ten years, in Claremont, California, then San Bernardino, then Fresno, breaking up in the fall of 1996.  Then Matt moved to San Francisco and started a housekeeping service.

















3. Seth.  A graduate student in chemistry, later a chemist, who taught a horribly heterosexist lab section, before Kevin the Vampire and I convinced him to lay off.  And hook up with us.

Seth dated Kevin after we broke up, and then moved on to Matt.

That's right, the ex-boyfriend of my ex-boyfriend dated the ex-boyfriend of my ex-boyfriend.

4. Fangorn.   In 2009, Seth moved to Santa Rosa for a job and met Fangorn (named after the forest), a white-bearded nature boy, pagan, and fan of The Lord of the Rings.  He had a farm near Santa Rosa, where he grew mostly onions (and marijuana).

I don't know what the eminently empirical scientist saw in the aging hippie, except maybe his Kielbasa beneath the belt.  But they were together for a couple of years.

5. Allen Ginsberg and Peter Orlovsky.  Back in the 1970s, when Fangorn was a Cute Young Thing named Dennis, he enrolled in the Naropa Institute in Colorado.  He and Beat poet Ginsberg and his partner Peter Orlovsky enjoyed romping about in the nude.










6. Justin.  In the late 1950s, when Peter Orlovsky was a student at Columbia University, he dated a young Classics major named Justin.  Who went on to graduate study at Harvard, got his Ph.D., and for some reason chose to teach in the Midwest, Knox College.

7. Fred.  Where, twenty years later, with a beard and a belly, he taught -- and dated -- the theology student who would become my first lover.

See also: Fred's Nine Lovers; The Blue Power Ranger Dates Fred and Matt

Nude Photos of Prince Harry

Prince Harry (1984-), the younger son of Prince Charles and fifth in the line of succession to the British crown, has been raising eyebrows for years for his wild and crazy exploits, his aggressive gay-friendliness, and his physique.

Especially his physique.

Here are 10 photos of Prince Harry that you have to see.

1. This poster advertising London's Manbar, which has since closed.  That's not Harry's actual physique however.

2.  This is.  Smooth chest, nice hands and biceps, a little belly.

3.  Wait -- where did he get the six-pack?

4. And the chest hair?

5. And the bulge?

6. This photo was taken about ten years ago.  Ever since, every gay man in the world has been trying to figure out what else it could be.

It's nowhere near his pocket, and it doesn't look like a stray fabric flap.














7.  TMZ leaked this "candid" photo of Harry and his girlfriend frolicking in Bermuda. Odd that he chose that moment to cover up.

8. From DNA magazine.

9. Apparently Harry is into butts.

10.  I can't resist a photo of a cute guy with a puppy.

See also: Prince Charles is Gay.

A Boy With Daddy Issues Rips My Clothes Off

Plains, May 2015

Ever since I wimped out on Raphael, the Gay Psychic Angel, who was perfect in every way except that his arms didn't work, I have felt guilty.  I should have called -- I would have called -- except I kept imagining becoming his boyfriend, and being responsible for helping him eat and dress and use the bathroom -- how shallow!

So I decided that if I ever had such an opportunity again, I would go for it without hesitation.

The opportunity came in, of all places, a comic book store on the Plains.

I always feel out of place amid the fanboys and fantasy gamers, self-conscious about my age more than anything, so I rush in, get what I need, and rush out again.  But on that Saturday afternoon in May 2015, there were two guys standing in front of the New Arrival rack.

One was a hefty, bearded bear in his 40s.  He was picking up titles and showing them to his friend, who was small, slim, in his 20s.

And had cerebral palsy.

Back in college, I dated Jimmy, the Bodybuilder on Crutches, but his cerebral palsy resulted only in some stiffness, so he had to use crutches to get around, and some motor actions were difficult.

This guy had spastic movements (uncontrollable spasms in his arms), spasticity in his hands (they bent back), and gait disturbance (one leg dragged behind).

He turned and smiled at me. "We're almost done."

Slurred speech, too.

"Oh, don't worry.  Take your time."

He continued to smile.  The cruise was unmistakable.

I should say something else.  "Um...I heard that IDW is coming out with a new Donald Duck title.  Funny how Disney titles never last."

"Well, you know fanboys are fickle. My name is Andy."

"Boomer.  Pleased to meet you."

He swung his body to stretch out his curled, curved hand.  I took it and squeezed.  For some reason, I was surprised that it was warm.


By now his friend was staring at me suspiciously.  "This is my warden," Andy said in his slurred speech. "His job is to make sure I never have any fun."

"Roy -- Andy's Dad,"  he grunted.  "The one with the car."

Ok, I was being cruised by a guy who was thirty years younger than me, with spastic movements that kind of freaked me out, in a comic book store, in front of his father.

Time to seal the deal!

"Have you had lunch yet?  There's a pretty good Chinese place down the street that I like."

"We're going for pizza," Andy countered.  "You should come."

Roy grunted disapprovingly.  In retrospect, it must have seemed odd to watch his son pick up a strange guy twice his age.  Or did Andy do this all the time?

We had barbecue chicken pizza and garlic knots, while Andy's "spastic movements" kept rubbing his leg against mine.  I couldn't tell if Roy knew that his son was cruising me,  but it was obvious that he kept strict control over Andy's friends.  You had to prove yourself.

Turns out that Andy and I didn't have a lot in common.  He liked sports -- especially baseball -- and zombie movies and tv programs like The Walking Dead.

And he lacked most of the traits that I find attractive -- he was shorter than me, but slim, pale-skinned, and not religious.  I didn't get a chance to check on his beneath-the-belt gifts.

I was tempted to let the relationship slide,but then I thought of the Psychic Angel.  No way -- we were going forward, as far as Andy wanted!

Apparently I proved myself to Roy, as I got permission to solo with Andy the next day: a baseball game -- yawn -- then back to my apartment to kiss on the couch.

"I always liked older guys," Andy whispered, groping me with his curved hand.  "You're always so big!"

"It doesn't really get bigger as you get older."

"Ok, I guess I have Daddy issues, then."

"Well, your father is rather hot."

"Oh, I fantasize about him sometimes -- is that sick?  I want to tie him up and spank him.  You know, be the one in charge."

I could see where this was heading! "Sorry, I'm not really into that."  Andy probably couldn't tie ropes well, anyway.

"Ok, so...maybe I could like just tear your clothes off before we do it?  That would be erotic."

"Um...sure, I guess."

I put on an old t-shirt and jeans, and we went into the bedroom.  But old clothes are quite tough, apparently, and Andy's spastic hand movements couldn't get them to rip. I had to start the process with scissors.

The erotic activity that followed was a little disappointing.  Andy had a Bratwurst, very thick, with a foreskin that wouldn't retract -- but he was only into backside activity -- and a top.

I let him top me, but he worked so fast that I barely noticed.

Then I drove him home.

"This was fun," he said.  "Sometime you should meet my boyfriend.  He'd like you, too."

Boyfriend?  Wait -- I thought that Andy was a lonely shut-in who never got asked out, that I was doing him a favor by dating him.  "Is he an older guy?"

"Oh, no, he's in college.  All the college boys want to date me, but hardly ever anyone older.  But  older guys are fun -- they're always so grateful!   Well, bye!"

Wait -- was Andy doing me a favor?

See also Gay Psychic Angel; Cruised by my Mentally Disabled Neighbor