Trying to Find a Quiet Night in Gay Heaven

San Francisco, March 1997

What is it like to live in Gay Heaven, to know that you have achieved something that most gay people can only dream of?  How can you go about your everyday activities, buy groceries, pay rent, work out at the gym, knowing that thousands of people would give anything to be in your position?

It's a big responsibility to live as a stand-in for a thousand gay men.  Every moment has to count.  Every night is a mad rush of beer busts, bear parties, AIDS benefits, book signings, art openings, film premieres, special events so frequent that they're not special at all.

Plus at least one party per week, probably two or three, to welcome new residents; to say goodbye to those who are leaving; to celebrate birthdays, anniversaries, new jobs, and new apartments; to introduce new boyfriends; to entertain a constant stream of out-of-town guests.

(Every gay man you have ever known, even if it was just a brief conversation ten years ago, will eventually show up on your doorstep, bags in hand, hoping to stay with you while he tries to move to Gay Heaven.)

Plus a round of holidays that require planning and discussion: the Castro Street Fair, Halloween, New Year's Eve, The Gay Film Festival, the AIDS Walk, Dore Alley, Christopher Street West

Plus constant dates and hookups, partly because there are so many men to choose from, new refugees from the Straight World arriving every day.

Partly because when you're a stand-in for a thousand gay men stuck in Straight World wastelands, it's your duty and obligation to have as much sex as possible.

I leave the apartment at 8:00 am, meet David at Orphan Andy's for breakfast, and am never alone again until I return at 11:00 pm -- even then, I usually have a date or hookup with me.

My computer and tv sit silent.  My kitchen is for storing sodas and snacks.  Books that I buy but don't have time to read accumulate in uneasy stacks by my bedside.

I'm an introvert. I hate blaring music, flashing lights, and especially crowds.  I need quiet and solitude to recharge and energize.

March 14: Friday Night.

I've been asked out to dinner by Roger, a guy I met at the gym -- he had a very impressive shower erection.  Plus my sort-of boyfriend Kevin wants me to go to an "open mike night" (the vampire can sing!),  I've been invited to a party to help my friend Corbin welcome his visiting ex-boyfriend, and there's the usual Bear Party south of Market.  But I've had it.  Tonight is my night to relax!

I write in my Calendar "Quiet Evening at Home!!!," refuse all invitations, and turn off the answering machine on my phone.  After work and the gym, I pick up Thai food and a pint of ice cream.  I go home, draw the shades, and lock the door.

For the next 12 hours, I will not see, talk to, or interact with another human being.  Sheer solitude!  Heaven in Gay Heaven!

7:30 pm.  I put on my bathrobe and turn on Nickelodeon to watch while I eat.  Kenan and Kel, a teencom about a pair of Laurel-and-Hardy fat-thin bickering-buddies played by Kenan Thompson (who gets them involved in crazy schemes) and Kel Mitchell (who groans his catchphrase, "Here it goes!").  The guys believe that their friend Roger (Malcolm Jamal-Warner) is a jewel thief.

The show has a strong gay subtext, and Roger is rather cute.  What a coincidence -- a cute guy asked me out to dinner tonight.  We would probably be eating right now.  Then we'd go to Corbin's party, then cruising at the Eagle, and back to his apartment....

8:00 pm: I turn the channel to Sliders, about college boy Quinn (Jerry O'Connor) trapped in an endless voyage among parallel universes, accompanied by the Girl, the Professor, and the Jazz Musician.   This week they're in a world where all 18-25 year olds must become organ donors for the oldsters.  Meanwhile there's a subplot about Maggie (Kari Wuhler), a team member they picked up a few parallel worlds back, having a parasite removed from her body.  It takes a hot guy to lure it out so it can breed.

Heterosexist -- even alien parasites fall into boy-girl categories -- and disgusting.  Besides, Quinn never takes his shirt off.

At Corbin's party tonight, the entertainment will be a guy stripping and going down on the guests, or maybe a "guess the penis" game.

9:00 pm.  Nothing good on tv.  I go to the bedroom, lie down on the bed, and pick up a book.

Kevin is probably at the open-mic night by now.  One doesn't expect a dour, sarcastic vampire to be a singer, but he is, with a wide repertoire of torch songs and show tunes.  "Cabaret" starts playing in my head:

Put away the knitting, the book, and the broom.  Listen to the music play.
Life is a cabaret, old chum.  Come to the cabaret....

9:30 pm.  I turn the tv back on.  Step by Step, a TGIF sitcom about the blended family of Frank (Patrick Duffy) and Carol (Suzanne Sommers), formerly of Dallas and Three's Company, respectively.

In this episode, Frank's son  J.T. (Brandon Call), Carol's daughter Dana (Staci Keanan), and  their friend Rich (Jason Marsden) end up in a Mexican prison over burritos.  Back home, Carol teaches Jean-Luc (Bronson Pinchot), her partner at the beauty salon, how to drive.

Strong gay subtext between J.T. and Rich, and I'm pretty sure Jean-Luc is supposed to be gay.  But...I don't need to worry about subtexts and stereotypes anymore.  I'm in Gay Heaven!

The bear party is usually busy about now.

There are thousands of gay guys trapped in the Straight World tonight, with nothing to do but watch Step by Step and dream.  But I live in Gay Heaven.  It's my duty to go out, whether I want to or not.

I pull on my clothes and catch the Muni to South of Market.

10:00 pm.  I arrive at the bear party.  My friend David is there, going down on a muscular guy in his 30s with a short beard, a tight hairless chest, and a nicely shaped Bratwurst+.  He moves aside and motions for me to take over.

Just a quiet night in Gay Heaven.

See also: The Amazing Invisible Boy

Sausage Sighting of Billy Mumy and Jon Bon Jovi

This is Jeremy, Infinite Chazz's partner.  I saw Bill Mumy on your hookup wishlist.  I hope this is what you were looking for:

Summer 1991!  There has never been another summer like it.  Paula Abdul was at the top of the charts, Michael J. Fox and Keanu Reeves were at the top of the box office, and everyone was glued to the tv, wondering who killed Laura Palmer on Twin Peaks. 

I was a 21 year old undergrad at Florida State, studying philosophy of all things, and I landed the best summer job of all time -- an internship at Universal Studios in Orlando, where I became a gopher and script boy for the Superboy series!

It was about a college-age Clark Kent studying journalism at Shuster University.  Played by Gerard Christopher, aka Jerry Dinome, 30 years old, a strong romantic-lead type, a former physique model, tall, tanned, and buffed, with a bulge that wouldn't quit.  Hot!



I sidled up to Gerard, bringing him coffee and bagels, telling him that I wanted to be an actor (I actually didn't), trying to tease out whether he was gay or not -- and more importantly, whether he was into 21-year old philosophy majors!

Season 4 began with a two-parter (aired October 6th and 13th, 1991), in which Superboy runs afoul of Adam Verrel (Michael Des Barres), a stereotypic British-sophisticate villain.  Hey, I didn't write this stuff.

 Adam blackmails eccentric inventor Tommy Puck (Bill Mumy) into creating a super-weapon to take Superboy down.

Michael Des Barres was big, bold, and flamboyant, an androgynous glam rocker who had his own band in the 1970s, and had since performed with everyone from Blondie to Duran Duran.  He was newly divorced but still friends with Pamela Des Barres, quintessential groupie whose tell-all book,  I'm with the Band (1987), details wild nights of sex wilth everyone from Don Johnson to Mick Jagger.

Unabashedly bisexual, or I guess pansexual -- he liked sex, period.  And rather aggressively into me, with the hand on shoulder and accidentally-brushing-the-bum bits.  He wasn't at all my type, so I just kind of ignored him.

Bill Mumy was quiet, a little more reserved.  I never saw Lost in Space: I knew him from the old Twilight Zone episode where he plays a kid with eerie superpowers, and from his musical group Barnes and Barnes:  "Fish Heads" on the Doctor Demento radio show.

He was skinny, almost gaunt, with a long face and crazy hair, not really my type. 

Also rather conservative; Michael and Gerard went out drinking and "raising hell" after the table read, but Bill went back to his hotel to call his wife on the telephone.

We shot for two weeks.  During the last day, Michael wrapped his arm around my shoulders and said "Gerard and Bill and I are popping down to Fort Lauderdale tomorrow for a quiet little gathering at my mate Tico's house.  It's an overnight. Fancy coming along?"

An overnight party would certainly mean sharing Michael's bed.  But Gerard would be there, too -- showering, going to the beach, stripping down, all of those things that could lead to male-bonding and hand jobs.  Maybe I could convince Michael to "share"!  So I agreed.


Some quiet little gathering!  Tico turned out to be the drummer for Bon Jovi, and he had this marvelous five-bedroom house near the beach in Wilton Manors, the gay neighborhood of Fort Lauderdale.  He wasn't gay -- he had a live in girlfriend -- but half the guests were gay men.

The other half were famous musicians -- Jon Bon Jovi, George Michael, Blondie, Nikki Sixx of Motley Crue!

I don't remember what we had for dinner, but I remember everyone eating off paper plates while they cruised, flirted, and got wasted.  Pot and cocaine were passed around, and the scent of poppers filled the warm night air.

Some of the guests were skinny-dipping in the pool.  I saw one guy with an enormous cock just walking around, flapping in the wind.

Michael wasn't nearly as aggressive as he had been in Orlando -- he mingled extensively, never staying with one person for more than a minute or so.

 Gerard and Bill Mumy stayed together, almost defensively.  They were both getting rather high.

 I imagine that Gerard wasn't used to being ignored. Sure, he was the star of a popular tv series, but here, he was a minor celebrity, even a nobody -- did anybody but junior high boys actually watch Superboy?

Around 9:00 pm, Gerard suddenly grabbed Michael and Bill and dragged them into the house.  They returned naked except for socks on their cocks, like the Red Hot Chili Peppers, and started singing "Welcome to California."

Wow!  Gerard naked, with his enormous cock barely hidden by a gym sock.  Michael and Bill, too, but I couldn't keep my eyes off Gerard.


Until Bill Mumy got a slight sock misfunction.  It slipped off, leaving his nice semi-aroused 7" for everyone to see.

Some of the guests hooted, and one yelled "Danger, Will Robinson!", which I guess is a line from Lost in Space.

When he saw what had happened, Bill covered up and rushed into the house.  He didn't come back.

In the morning, we had breakfast, then caught our flight back to Orlando.  I saw Bill again in the spring, when he reprised his role as the eccentric inventor on Superboy, but I didn't mention the sock misfunction.

I guess that was pretty convoluted, huh?  A lot of buildup for a momentary glimpse of Bill Mumy's penis.

Would it help if I told you that I had sex with Michael Des Barres that night?  Good kisser, very big cock, mostly an oral bottom.

And I also went down on Jon Bon Jovi in the bathroom?

The Boy with a Crush on My Dad

When I was growing up, I was fascinated by a photo of my father sitting on a burro in Tijuana.

Dad is tanned, muscular, smiling, wearing a sombrero that invites us to "Kiss My Ass!"

The photo is dated September 8th, 1959, a little over a year before I was born. There are two names written on the back, "Frank" and "Jared."

Frank is my father, but who is Jared?  The burro?

And how did this grinning, bawdy, irreverent 21-year old turn into the Dad I knew, conservative, somber, serious, who rarely laughed and never joked or fooled around?  What changed?

Here is all I knew:

June 1956

Frank graduates from high school in Indiana, and joins the Navy.  He spends the next three years seeing the world, visiting Japan, Korea, Singapore, Hong Kong, and the Philippines, learning to repair things deep down in the hulls of the big ships, and buddy-bonding.  He calls it the best time of his life.

June 1959

Frank returns to Indiana for a two-week long shore leave and reunites with his high school sweetheart, who is working at the A&W.  They impulsively get married, and drive with her sister and brother-in-law cross country to Long Beach, California.  They move into a tiny apartment.

The next year is a blank space in their lives.  They don't talk about it.  There are only a few mementos and photographs.  I know that they went to Knotts Berry Farm and Tijuana, that a couple of relatives flew out for a visit, and that Mom bought a set of encyclopedias from a fast-talking salesman, and that's all.

June 1960

Frank's four-year tour of duty ends.  His Captain asks him to stay on, with a promotion to Chief Petty Officer, but he refuses.  Instead, he and Mom return to Indiana and move into a house on South Randolph Street.  He goes to work in the factory, which he calls a "hell hole," even when he's not angry: "Well, I'm off to the goddam hell hole, back at 4:00."   and frequently evokes his Navy years as "the best time of my live."

Why did Dad abandon a Navy career he loved for a factory job he hated?  

I could have grow up in Long Beach!  I could have met Randall and Will the Bondage Boy early in my childhood.  I could learned about gay people and been part of the gay rights movement of the 1980s.  Instead I rumbled around Rock Island in utter silence, my same-sex loves ignored, my most casual friendship with a girl applauded as the meaning of life.

Why did they leave Long Beach?

Indianapolis,  May 2016

I'm visiting my parents on the way back from New York. My nephew is digitizing their old photos, and I see the "Kiss My Ass" burro photo again.  Emboldened, I decide to coax as much information out of them as possible.

Maybe the statute of limitations has passed, or maybe after nearly 60 years they don't care about their youthful transgressions anymore, but Mom and Dad both open up, describing their apartment, the corner grocery store, the movie theater where they saw Ben-Hur and Pillow Talk.

"You went to movies?" I ask, shocked.  Nazarenes are forbidden from setting foot inside movie theaters.


"That's not all!" Dad says with a laugh.  "We played cards.  We danced.  We even drank -- just beer, one time, but if the preacher or my parents found out, we'd be in big trouble!"

"We made friends with all sorts of people that would set my Mom and Dad off," Mom adds.  "Blacks.  Jews.  Catholics.  Mexicans.  And...well, you know..."

"Gays?" I suggest.

Suddenly Dad becomes somber.  "It was the Fifties.  We didn't know about things like that."

"Or if we did, we thought it was very rare," Mom adds, "You'd never meet anyone like that in a lifetime, which is good because it was the worst thing possible, like a sin and a crime and a sickness, all rolled up into one.  Then we met that boy, Jared"

"We were supposed to give him a copy of the photo," Dad says.  "That's why his name is on the back.  But we didn't get a chance."

More after the break