Don't Call Bruce "Gay"

Rock Island, December 1979

My best friend at Augustana College, Bruce, didn't realize that we were friends.  He thought I was just another member of the Boosktore Gang, the group of comic book-science fiction-Monte Python fans who hung out at the Student Union Bookstore, but never had real conversations and never saw each other socially.  A casual acquaintance, a "school friend" at best.

Bruce also didn't realize that I was gay..   In fact, he often tried to fix me up with girls, or assumed that I was hot for whatever girl I happened to be chatting with.  But he was my connection to the daylit world, an interpreter of all those alien heterosexual folkways and mores

I chose him because:
1. He was an English/drama major

2. He didn't date much, so I didn't have to hear the play-by-play of nights of heterosexual excess.

3.. He was not cute: tall and skinny, with a mop of unruly hair and a sharp, angular face.  So there would be no weird sublimated attraction.  (This guy will give you an idea.)

4. He was pro-gay, at least in theory, though he roiled when someone insinuated that he might be gay.

He flew into a rage when you called him "Brucie" or anything that sounded similar.

The Fratboys soon got wise, and took to saying:
“Are you busy?”
“Do you bruise easy?”
“Do you think Diana Ross is too bluesy?”
Or my favorite, “I bought a new record, Strange Brew -- see?” 

They never tired of seeing Bruce redden with rage.

So all hell broke loose that December night with Leanne.

Leanne was a junior drama major, plump and aggressive with thin sandy hair.  In December of our sophomore year, she invited me to a new Chinese restaurant in Moline, the next town over, and I invited Bruce.  I didn't realize that they were old enemies, but they sniped at each other constantly.

Later I heard that last year Bruce won the role of Algernon in Oscar Wilde's The Importance of Being Earnest over Leanne’s best friend, a senior who would be auditioning professionally soon. Was she still angry about that?  

Or maybe she thought this was a date, and resented Bruce's intrusion.

After kung pao chicken and sniping, we drove through downtown on the way back to Augustana.  As we neared JR's, Rock Island's gay bar, Leanne said "Shall we stop?  You in the mood for a slow dance, Bruce?"

"What are you talking about?"  Bruce asked from the back seat.

"That's your bar coming up, isn't it? Wanna duck inside for a quickie?"

““It’s not my bar! I’m not even old enough to drink yet!”

He didn't realize that  it was a gay bar!  

Leanne slowed down. “I didn't mean that you owned it, dear,  I thought you were the entertainment for the evening."  She flashed a limp wrist.

I saw Bruce's face reddening in the rear view mirror. Now he got it. "Eat me!", he yelled.

"Better ask one of your friends to do that, dearie."

Bar next to JR

“That’s it! Stop the car!” Bruce shouted.  He snapped off his seat belt and opened the car door while we were still moving. Leanne skidded to a stop in front of a sandwich shop on the next corner (it seems to be an Irish bar now).

“You can’t get out here,” I told Bruce. “We’re two miles from the school. It’s cold out.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

"I've got a better idea.  We can both get out, and call my brother to pick us up.  I'm getting kind of carsick."   I got out of the car and slammed the door.  Leanne sputtered for a moment, then zoomed off.

I went inside the sandwich shop and asked to use the phone, while Bruce stood on the corner, sputtering a bit himself.  

"Where'd she get the idea that I was gay?" he asked when I returned.

"I don't know," I said.  "What's the big deal?  I thought you were in favor of gay rights."

"Well, sure, gay rights.  But...but...what if word gets around?"


I remembered Rocky High, where hanging out with a guy with muscles was a sure sign of heterosexual identity.  "Just find a jock to hang out with, and no one will suspect you."

The "accusation," oddly, served to strengthen our friendship.  We began talking on the telephone almost every night, first talking about how ludicrous it was for Leanne to think that he was gay, and then moving on to other things.  Like Fred -- Bruce became the only Augustana friend to meet my ministerial-student boyfriend.

But he never figured it out.  Not even when I got a boyfriend.

When we invited him over for dinner at Fred's apartment, he said: "Cool pad! Does Fred ever let you bring girls over?"

See also: Bruce Travels Forward in Time to Bring Me Guys

My Ex-Boyfriend Fred's Nine Lovers

We don't live just one life.  We may be "only dancing on this Earth for a short while," but during that short while, we are many different people.  We move to new cities, and take on new jobs. Friends and boyfriends come and go.

My first boyfriend Fred had many different jobs, cities, friends, and relationships.  In trying to make sense of his life, I decided to go with his lovers.

1. The Farmboy.  Fred was born on a farm in rural Western Illinois in November 1952.  Growing up, he milked cows and fed pigs, but he was not isolated from the social ferment of the 1960s. He watched The Smothers Brothers and listened to Jefferson Airplane.

In high school, Fred was a clean-cut all-American, lettering in football, taking girls to school dances, leading Sunday school classes at the United Methodist church, respected by his parents and the oldsters, who thought he was the exception to a generation full of "draft dodgers and hippies."

No one talked about gay people.  He was not aware that they existed, certainly not aware that he was himself gay.

He had no same-sex experiences except with the Farmboy, his girlfriend's brother, who lived about a mile down the road.  After his dates, he dropped off the girl with a chaste kiss on the cheek and then met the Farmboy behind the barn for moments of homoerotic joy.

2.  The Greek Professor.  After graduating from high school in 1971, Fred enrolled at Western Illinois University in Macomb, but transferred after a year to Knox College in Galesburg.

He majored in psychology, because he wanted to understand his desires better, and in Classics, because he was in love with his Greek professor: a Harvard Ph.D. in his fifties with a thick beard, a hairy chest, a little belly, and a Bratwurst beneath the belt.  The Greek Professor mentioned the gay loves of Zeus and Apollo -- the first time Fred ever heard gay people discussed in public.

Incidentally, he also initiated Fred into bottoming, which in those days was called "Greek passive."

3. The Episcopal Priest.  From 1976 to 1979, Fred was attending McCormick Theological Seminary in Chicago, studying for his Master of Divinity degree with a concentration in pastoral counseling.  He had a girlfriend, and then a fiancee, because that was the only way you could get a job in the Methodist Church.   But somehow he found the gay neighborhood of Chicago, with its bars, bookstores, and bathhouses, and had several brief relationships and hookups.

Among his more memorable hookups was Ron Reagan, son of the future president, who he topped in his first Greek active experience.

His most memorable relationship was with Thomas, an Episcopal priest from Des Moines, who told him that it was ok to be gay and Christian.  They remained friends for the rest of Fred's life.

See: The Priest with Three Boyfriends and Fred Hooks Up with the President's Son

4. Boomer.  Shortly after breaking up with the fiancee, Fred moved to Rock Island for his internship year at the First United Methodist Church.  There he met Boomer, a 19-year old college student.  Fred fell hard and fast; within a week, he was thinking of Boomer as his soul mate, the one God or fate had predestined for him at the beginning of the time.

After his internship,  Fred found a job as a youth minister at a United Methodist church in Gretna, Nebraska, a suburb of Omaha.  In the summer of 1980, he convinced Boomer to drop out of college and follow him.

Neither was prepared for the daily routine of a live-in relationship.  Fred became controlling and argumentative, Boomer surly and jealous, certain that Fred was cheating with the teenager downstairs (and perhaps he was).   After five weeks, Boomer left, to return to college.

But, like the Episcopal priest, they remained friends.  Fred tried his best to keep his old loves in his life.

See: My First Date, with Fred the Ministerial Student and Fred and the Teenager Downstairs

5. The Nephew.  In the fall of 1980, Fred rebounded, falling hard and fast into the arms of another 19-year old college student, a University of Nebraska sophomore who moved in with him after only two dates.  Closeted, Fred introduced him as his "nephew."  They stayed together for about two years.

I don't know why they broke up -- I suspect that the Nephew graduated and moved somewhere for a job.

In 1982, Fred left Gretna to become senior pastor of the United Methodist Church in Horrible Small-Town Kansas. He was pressured to date women, and in fact had several lady friends, keeping his same-sex activity strictly on the downlow.


See: I spend the night with Fred and his boyfriend, in his parents' house.






6. Matt.  In 1985, Fred decided that he couldn't take the closeting anymore, so he left the ministry altogether for a job as a mental health counselor in Kansas City.  In May 1987 he met Matt, a recent Harvard graduate who was elitist, sarcastic, and all kinds of crazy, but had a good heart.  They were together for ten years.

In 1988 they moved to Claremont, California, where Fred studied for his D.Min degree at the Claremont School of Theology.

After graduating,  Fred got a job as a youth pastor in San Bernardino, then a family counselor in Fresno.  Matt, who had never had a job, stayed home to cook and clean, becoming a veritable "housewife."

Fred believed in monogamy, staying faithful to one guy forever.  He was never comfortable with the West Hollywood custom of sharing, or of going down on guys as entertainment at a party.   Yet there were so many Cute Young Things around, a kaleidoscope of biceps and bulges.  It was impossible to resist.  He began a pattern of hookups and even full-fledged affairs without telling Matt.

In 1996, Matt discovered that Fred had been cheating, and left him.  But they stayed friends, of course.

See: Matt's First Night with Fred and His Brother; and How Matt Began Renting Himself Out

7. Jester.  Fred did not handle breakups well.  He was so distraught when Matt left that he quit his job and returned to San Bernardino, where he went to work as a mental health counselor.

He immediately began dating Jester, a college student, later history teacher, blind, with an upbeat attitude and a footlong beneath the belt.

They were together for five years, finally breaking up in 2001.  The breakup was rough, with accusations and rage on both sides.  They didn't stay friends afterwards.

See: The Blind Boy with the 12" Penis and The Blind Boy Finds His Way into Fred's Bed.

8. The Icelandic Photographer.  The next decade is a blur of cities -- Sandusky, Ohio; Bemidji, Minnesota; Pocatello, Idaho; Mesa, Arizona.  A blur of jobs -- homeless advocate, assistant pastor, manager of psychiatric services.  And a blur of boyfriends, Cute Young Things by the dozens finding their way into Fred's apartment for a month, for a week, for a single day.

Why didn't he commit to anyone in particular?  Maybe he was afraid of losing his heart -- and soul -- yet again.

Maybe it was difficult for a guy in his 50s to form permanent relationships with the twinks he found most attractive.

Or maybe, after so many years of monogamy, Fred wanted to sit back and enjoy the ride, enjoy all the fun of a relationship with none of the responsibilities.

The only relationship that stands out in the blur is the Icelandic Photographer, who I met in 2001. An art student at Bemidji State University, with long hair, a moustache, a hard smooth chest, and a Kovbasa beneath the belt.  He had an Icelandic flag tattooed on his hand.

"This is it!" Fred told me.  "I've never met anyone like him before!  We're going to be together for the rest of our lives!"

Fred never mentioned him again.

See: Fred and the Icelandic Photographer

9. Tyler. In 2011, Fred landed the fest, most prestigious job of his life: director of mental health services for the Disciples of Christ Church at its main headquarters in Indianapolis.

After hooking up with a 26-year old chef named Tyler, Fred moved in with him, but only as a roommate.  He became close to Tyler's mother, Georgina, and a surrogate father to his brothers, Rusty and Max.  They even took family portraits together.

Fred and Tyler were Platonic friends, a stepfather and stepson.  After that first night, they never slept together, not even for "sharing," and each sought out other lovers. But it was Tyler who took care of Fred when he got sick in 2016, who helped him into and out of his wheelchair and drove him to his doctor appointments, and who was holding his hand during those last days in the hospice.

Maybe, at the end of his life, Fred finally found his soulmate.

See: I Spend the Night with Fred's Son

Dick Sargent and Randall Compete Over a Disney Adventure Boy

West Hollywood, June 1995

It's the night before Gay Pride, and Lane and I are having about a dozen guys over, so they'll be able to get to the staging grounds easily tomorrow, or find a good place to stand to watch.  As usual at West Hollywood parties, we swap celebrity dating stories: Tom Cruise, Rob Lowe, Mario Lopez, Dustin Hoffman.

Randall the Muscle Bear usually doesn't participate, although he knows a lot of actors, but tonight he may be trying to impress his date, Levi from Colorado, so he says "I'm going to tell you about the time Dick Sargent and I competed over a Disney adventure boy from the 1960s."

The room is abuzz as we discuss the Disney adventure boys, a stable of teen hunks who took their shirts off to demonstrate "wholesome American masculinity" during the late 1950s and early 1960s: Jeff East, Tim Considine, Roger Mobley, James MacArthur, Tommy Kirk.

"You'll have to hear the story, and guess.

Hollywood, May 1966

Randall, who would become the Muscle Bear with the Pierced Penis, was then Randy, a 26-year old twink, fresh out of the Navy, back in his home town of Los Angeles after eight years in Hawaii, Guam, and Germany.    He moved into a tiny apartment on Crescent Heights, in what would one day be West Hollywood, got a job in set design, and reunited with his old friends, including actor Dick Sargent (the future star of Bewitched).

Dick introduced him to 26-year old Tommy Kirk (Old Yeller, The Shaggy Dog, Swiss Family Robinson) who had been fired from Disney last year when the studio discovered that he was gay.  He was trying to keep his career afloat with some beach movies and low-budget thrillers, like It's a Bikini World and Psycho A-Go-Go.

The three of them were talking, and Randall mentioned his crush on a Disney Adventure Boy from a few years ago -- he'd be in his 20s by now.

"He's a really nice guy," Tommy said.  "He and Annette are the only two of the old Disney gang who will talk to me now.  But he's straight.  He's got a girlfriend."

"Maybe she's a beard," Dick suggested. A woman you date as a cover.  "And, straight or not, nobody can resist my impish grin."

"Or my...um...baseball bat," Randy bragged.  "I'll bet you I can convince him to drop his pants in just two hours."

"That's nothing!  I'll have him throwing my legs in the air in 45 minutes."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Sounds like an episode of Truth or Consequences," Tommy said.  "Tell you what -- I'll arrange the meetings -- that's the truth.  But I get to go down on the loser, the dude who doesn't get the boy.  Those are the consequences."

Dick Sargent's Date

Dick and Tommy and their beards met the Adventure Boy and his girlfriend at a Hollywood hot spot.  The music was loud and psychedelic; acid and pot were being passed around openly.  There were dancers in cages.  There were a number of celebrities grooving to the music, including George Segal and the Smothers Brothers.

 At 36, Dick felt a bit old for such a groovy hangout, but he gamely danced the frug and the watusi with his girl.  Then they sat at a red booth for drinks.

After awhile, the girls went off to "powder their noses," and Tommy found an excuse to make himself scarce. Dick slid across the booth and grabbed the Adventure Boy's shoulder.

"Hey, dude, you didn't hear it from me, but I think your chick digs chicks."

"Yeah, I know," he said.  "Doesn't bother me a bit.  She's the smartest, funniest girl I've ever met, regardless of who she sleeps with."

"But don't you want to...you know, get laid?"

The Adventure Boy smiled and patted his hand.  "To tell you the truth, sex with girls isn't much of a kick.  I never could figure out why everybody's so hepped up on it."

"Me, neither."  Dick reached down and grabbed his knee.  He didn't respond.

"There are so many more important things in life.  Art, literature, music, philosophy."

Dick moved farther in, found the Adventure Boy's crotch, and squeezed.  The Adventure Boy found his hand and moved it away.

"A sunrise on the beach is more satisfying than any number of blow jobs, I don't care if they're from a chick or a dude."

Dick backed off.  Later he went back to Tommy's house for his "penalty."

Randy's Date

Randy refused beards, offering Tommy and the Adventure Boy a "guy's night out."  Beginning, at his insistence, with the L.A. County Museum of Art.  He had never been there -- it only opened in 1961, and moved to its new building on Wilshire in 1965.

"This is where it's at," the Adventure Boy said.  "Picasso, Rembrandt, Matisse will be here long after our beach-blanket dreck is forgotten.  Mod comes and goes, but the artistic spirit lives on forever."

Randy touched his shoulder.  "You're really very sensitive, aren't you?  Nothing like your buffed airhead persona in the movies."

He shrugged.  "It's a job.  Besides, it gives me an opportunity to scope out the action. The Body Beautiful in Technicolor."

Afterwards they drove to the Santa Monica Pier to have dinner and then walk along the beach at sunset.  Randy put his arm around the Adventure Boy's waist.  Tommy chuckled.

"Hey, you dudes should drop by my pad," Randy said.  "I got some righteous Sangria I picked up in Spain, and some maui wowie."

The Adventure Boy suggested that they go back to his house instead.  He put on a record of Debussy, offered them a joint, and then sat with his legs wide, his head back, his eyes closed.  His knee brushed against Randy's.

"Man, I could just lie here all night, letting the music flow through me.  This has been a far-out day."

Tommy went out to the kitchen in search of wine.  While he was gone, Randy knelt in front of the Adventure Boy and pressed down on his crotch.

"Art, music, pot, a walk on the beach, a couple of cool guys by your side. What more could you ask for?"

Randy unzipped him and pulled out his penis --very long, very thick around, pale in the dim light -- and fondled him.

He didn't get aroused.

Randy went down on him.  It was like going down on a limp noodle.  Completely soft.

After a few minutes, he tried his hand again.  Nothing.  He returned the Adventure Boy's penis to his pants and zipped him up.

A moment later, Tommy appeared with glasses and a bottle of wine.  "You guys been keeping yourselves busy in my absence?"

"No," Randy said, annoyed.

After a glass of wine, they said goodnight, and Tommy drove Randy back to his house to collect his "penalty."

West Hollywood, June 1995

We glance at each other.  Randall hasn't given us much to go on.

"Definitely Roger Mobley," Will the Bondage Boy says.

"James Macarthur," I suggest.

"Tim Considine?"

"Nope.  It was Aron Kincaid."

The blond hunk in all of those beach movies of the early 1960s -- Beach Blanket Bingo, Muscle Beach, Bikini Beach Party?  He was a lot hotter and more buffed than ostensible star Frankie Avalon, and a lot less interested in the ladies.  I don't remember him being in a Disney adventure boy movie, but then, growing up Nazarene, I only saw a few of them.

This was before you could look up such things readily, and by the time I was near a library, I forgot all about it.  Only recently did I look him up: Aron Kincaid was no Disney Adventure Boy.  His only work for Disney was The Happiest Millionaire (1967).  Randall was mistaken, or fibbing.

But at least both he and Dick Sargent dated a former Disney Adventure Boy: Tommy Kirk.



Was Aron Kincaid Gay?

It's possible that Aron was gay, but too tired or too high to get aroused, or too nervous with a third person there.

Or that he had no sexual desire at all; maybe he was asexual.

He was engaged to four women over the years, but never married.  When he socialized, it was with a man or a much older woman, like screen legends Rita Hayworth and Maureen O'Hara.   But mostly he preferred solitude.

In the 1970s, he moved to San Francisco and started a new career as a model.  He became friends with Armistead Maupin, author of Tales of the City, who named his chief villain Norman Neal Williams ( after his real name).  Later he moved to New York City, where he embarked on a third career as a painter of landscapes and seascapes.

 He lived alone through his life, and died in 2011.


See also: Dick Sargent, Cary Grant, and Groucho Marx, All in the Same Bed.