Ricky Nelson and Kent McCord at an All-Male Party

When I was in eighth grade, Martin Milner and Kent McCord, stars of the cop show Adam-12, spoke at the high school, and for some reason my my boyfriend Dan and I were in the audience.

Their presentation was lame: stay in school, study hard, don't use drugs, don't grow your hair long, don't protest the war.  But I didn't care: I had never seen a celebrity close-up before, and Kent McCord was super-cute (Martin was in his 40s, too old).  I was star-struck.

  I got an autographed picture ("To Boomer -- stay in school"), handshakes from them both, and fodder for a lot of erotic fantasies.

My favorite involved getting Officer Reed (McCord) to Africa somehow, where he and Bomba the Jungle Boy were captured by the bad guys and tied back to back.

Naked, of course.

I never heard any gay dating or hookup stories about either Milner or McCord during my years in West Hollywood, but as stars of a show long off the air, they may not have been famous enough -- West Hollywood dating stories were all about impressing your friends with the biggest star possible.

But I recently got a hint of a Kent McCord hookup from Zack, in a story that was really about Ricky Nelson.  I interrogated him for as many details as he could remember, and added some details and conversations:

Hollywood, Spring 1969

Born in 1942, Kent McWhiter grew up in Baldwin Park, California, and attended Citrus Junior College and the University of Utah.  In February 1961, he met Ricky Nelson at a football game, and the two became fast friends.

With Ricky's help, he appeared in 28 episodes of Ozzie and Harriet.  Afterwards he landed a contract with Universal, adopted a new "macho" name, "Kent McCord," and pursued a successful show biz career.  He and Rick stayed friends throughout their lives.

But there was part of Rick's life that he never shared with the conservative, ultra-macho family man.

One day in 1969, Kent told Ricky, "Marty [Adam-12 co-star Martin Milner] is cool and all, but I just found out something crazy about him.  He told me he digs dudes!  I mean, he's married. How can you...."

Ricky decided that it was time to come clean about his secret life.  "Some dudes dig chicks and dudes both," he said with a smile. "If that's your scene, and if your old lady's cool with it, who are we to judge?  Besides, dudes are better at giving head.  They know what a man likes."

Kent stared for a moment, then said "That's not the craziest part.  He told me that he's screwed with both of his costars on Route 66, George Maharis and Glenn Corbett, and Chuck Connors.  The biggest, toughest, most masculine guys in Hollywood!"

"I'd like to have been at that party, man!  Getting a blow job from a muscle dude -- or giving one -- that's the living end!"

"You...you're that way, too? But we've been friends for years.  You saw me naked, and you never tried anything."

Ricky shrugged.  "I didn't think that was your bag, man.  But hey, if Milner invites you to any of those swinging muscle man parties, bring me along!  My dick could use a few muscle man mouths."

Kent looked away.  "No way, man," he said softly.  "I don't like muscle dudes...um...I mean dudes of any sort...I'm happily married. I'm a father....."

"Of course."  Ricky put a hand on his shoulder.  "I never said you had to like dudes to be my friend."

But a few weeks later, Kent called.  "It's on!  A 'swinging party' at a house in the Hollywood Hills.  Marty is going, and he promised that George Maharis will be there."

"Not a bad choice for your first taste of the forbidden fruit.  Can I come, too?  I can't pass up an opportunity to go down on George Maharis!"

"Sure.  But I'm just going to see what it's about.  I don't want to do anything.  Well, maybe get a blow job from a dude."  He paused.  "Do they really do it better?"

It was an all-male party like many Ricky had been to before, mostly celebrities and hustlers. Some of the hustlers were naked. You socialized around the pool and in the game room, and there was a darkened lounge for making out...and maybe other things, if you were brave.

They got beers and mingled.  Kent was awestricken by the number of recognizable faces: Latin lover Cesar Romero; Batman Adam West; George Takei of Star Trek; Bob Ellis, who Ricky pointed out as his ex-boyfriend.  Eventually they separated so guys wouldn't think they were a couple.

Ricky was cruising a cute young blond named Donnie, who was working on the Saturday morning kid show H.R. Pufnstuf and had a lot to say about young star Jack Wild, when he saw Kent headed toward the dark room.

"This will be good," he said.  "My buddy is about to get his first man-on-man blow job!  Let's watch, shall we?"

They waited a few minutes for Kent to get...um...comfortable, then went to the dark room.  Two or three couples kissing.  A guy smoking pot and playing with himself.  Tab Hunter and his trick masturbating each other.  And...in a corner...Bob Ellis getting a blow job.  He saw Ricky and Donnie and nodded, offering to "share."

Kent must have been heading to the bathroom instead -- the dark room was a little too advanced for a guy's first time.  But this was just as good.  "Care to share my ex-boyfriend's trick?" he asked, putting his arm around Donnie and guiding him over.

He unzipped Donnie -- very nice, a long, thin Bratwurst -- masturbated him for a moment -- then felt for the bottom's face and pushed it over.  Then he unzipped himself.  Soon the bottom was going down on both of them simultaneously while they kissed, leaving Bob to masturbate alone.

"Hey, I said share, not ignore," he whispered savagely.

"Sorry," the bottom whispered, and turned his attention back to Bob.

Never one to pass up a cock, Ricky fell to his knees and started going down on Donnie.  Only then did he notice -- his fellow bottom was Kent McCord.

Embarrassed, Ricky stood abruptly and walked away, leaving Kent to go down on Donnie and Bob at the same time.  He went out to the main party, socialized, cruised, gave his phone number to a Cute Young Thing, and finally retrieved Kent so they could leave.

"How was your first man-on-man blow job?"  he asked.

"Oh, I was too nervous to do anything," Kent said.  "But it was a lot of fun watching."

Was Zack Telling the Truth?

This is a third-hand story, from Donnie to Drake to Zack, and it was a dark room.  It's possible that Kent McCord was at the party, but the guy on his knees was someone else. After all, he's been married for fifty years, he's highly conservative, and I've heard no other gay rumors about him.

But who knows?  Maybe on a warm Hollywood night a generation ago, the man who would fill my adolescent fantasies found himself in a dark room, surrounded by the sight, sound, and smell of the masculine.

See also:  Ricky Nelson Steals Drake's Boyfriend; Donnie's Gay Sex Party with Jack Wild

Sausage Sighting of the Korean Muscle Bear

Rock Island, August 1981

One of the most interesting of my Sausage Sightings was the Asian muscle bear.

When I was growing up in Rock Island, you were white or black. There was one Chinese kid in my junior high, and my judo instructor was Japanese.  And that was it.

So I was surprised, during the summer after my junior year in college, when a Korean family moved into the house next door: Mr. Kim, an engineer in his 30s, his wife, who worked in a bank downtown, and two young daughters.

Mr. Kim was a surprisingly buffed muscle bear.  He often mowed his lawn or played with his dog with his shirt off and sometimes he sat in a kiddie pool in the back yard in a swimsuit, reading a magazine.

Very hot.  I wanted to get to know him better.  Of course, he was married with children, but so were many of the guys who cruised at the levee.

I took a class in East Asian Civilization at Augustana.  Unfortunately, we barely touched on Korea, but I tried an opening on Taoism, the Way of Non-Resistance.

Mr. Kim cut me off.  "I don't know anything about that stuff.  I'm a Presbyterian."

Ok, so how about Korean history?  The Joseon dynasty that threatened Tokugawa Japan?

Cut off again.  "I don't know anything about that stuff.   We moved here when I was five."

The Korean language, maybe?  "Annyeong  haseyo! Good morning."  

"Sorry, I don't know much Korean.  I took Spanish in school."

"Tengo una verga grandissima para ti!"  Ok, I didn't say that.

By this point it was obvious that Mr. Kim was not particularly interested in buddying around with the teenage boy next door.

But there's more than one way to get a Sausage Sighting.





My brother and I shared an attic room with windows on each end.  His bed was beside the south window that looked out on the lawn, and mine was beside the north window that looked out a very narrow side yard and then Mr. Kim's house.

I could lie in bed and look down into his kitchen.

It usually wasn't very interesting -- people cooking and getting things out of the refrigerator.  But sometimes late at night I was awakened by the light coming on from next door, and I saw Mr. Kim making a snack.

In his underwear.

And one night, something more spectacular happened.

The light came on about midnight, just after I went to bed.  I peered down, as usual, to see Mr. Kim talking to his wife.  He was gesturing, pacing, so maybe it was an argument.

The underwear was off!  Mr. Kim was completely naked!  His impressive Bratwurst was swinging in and out of view as he paced back and forth.  His backside, too.

His wife was wearing a bathrobe.  She started making tea.

Eventually they sat at the kitchen table, and the Bratwurst was hidden from view.

The nude kitchen stop was never repeated.  A few months later, the Kims moved away.

Recently I read somewhere that the Korean penis averages 3.8 inches, the smallest in the world.

If Mr. Kim was small, I'd like to see big.

See also: 6000 Words for Penis

Yuri and my Boyfriend at a Hurricane Party

Wilton Manors, September 2004

Readers have been asking me about the custom of "sharing" one's boyfriends with friends, especially roommates, which was common in Florida and West Hollywood.  Didn't it provoke hurt feelings, if the boyfriend was more into you?  Wasn't there a danger of breaking up the relationship?

Not very often.  There were unspoken protocols in place.

1. You never "shared" your roommate's casual dates, only committed, trusting partners.

2. You never met with the boyfriend without the roommate present.  Ever.

3. If it was obvious that the boyfriend liked you a little "too much," then you never asked or offered to share again.

4. After a breakup, you could only date the ex-boyfriend with explicit consent of the roommate.


It was mostly foolproof. I can only recall once, in 20 years in West Hollywood, New York, and Florida, when it backfired.

Bodybuilder who looks like Stan

September 4nd, 2004: Hurricane Frances was about to make landfall in Florida, so we planned a Hurricane Party: you buy a lot of food, bottled water, and gas for your generator, invite some friends, and hunker down.

Yuri had just broken up with Jim the Baseball Player, so he came alone.

Barney invited his current boyfriend, a fellow bodybuilding enthusiast named Stan.

 I invited Randy, a cute 30-ish guy with red hair and a nice physique, who worked in a drug store.  We had only been out on one date, but I figured this would give us plenty of time to get to know each other.






Day #1:
This was my first big hurricane since I got to Florida, and we lived just outside the evacuation zone.  It was as frightening and spectacular as I had anticipated.

The power went out after less than an hour, and we turned on the generator.

We played Trivial Pursuit, talked about our coming out experiences, and had pie.

When it was time for bed, Barney and Stan invited Yuri to join them, leaving me and Randy alone.  It was only our second time together.

Randy lookalike with a friend

Day #2:
The real Hurricane Party began: a week of power outages and cleanup, and three days of "stay inside your home orders."

We cleaned up the debris, played croquet, watched a DVD, exercised on Barney's bike in shifts, worked on our computers.   I noticed Randy giving Yuri weird, hungry looks, but didn't think anything of it -- everybody gave Yuri hungry looks. He was quite attractive.

Dinner was steak and corn grilled in the backyard, another salad, and cookies.  Then we played a few rounds of Gay Monopoly.

When it was time for bed, I invited Yuri to join us.
"Are you sure?" he asked.  "You have only been boyfriends for a little time."
"It will be fine," I said.

But it wasn't exactly fine: Randy completely ignored me to lavish attention upon Yuri, trying every act in The Joy of Gay Sex and a few others of his own design.  Then he fell asleep with his arms around Yuri, and nearly kicked me off the bed.

Day #3:
Another DVD, more exercise, reading, and nude sunbathing.  Randy positioned himself to set next to Yuri at every activity.

In the afternoon, I was getting cabin fever, so I walked around for awhile, looking at the downed trees, the damaged buildings, and the traffic lights that were flashing randomly.  When I returned, Yuri pulled me aside;

"Boomer, before I was in my room reading a book, and Randy comes in and wants to be with me.  I said he's your boyfriend, he should be with you, but he grabbed me anyway! I push him away, and he gets mad!"

When I confronted Randy, he apologized.  "I don't know the rules.  I figured, we were together last night, why couldn't we be together this afternoon?"

"Because I wasn't around!"

Dinner was cold fried chicken, warmed up on the grill, and the last of the milk.

In the evening, the generator had run out of gas, so we lit candles.  We played Naked Twister, and everyone got to grab everyone else.  But Randy was interested only in Yuri.

At bedtime, I expected Barney and Stan to invite Yuri into their room again, but they went off alone (later I discovered that Randy had been cruising Stan when Barney wasn't around).

The three of us were alone in the living room.  Randy looked at me hopefully.

"I'm really tired," Yuri said, trying to defuse the situation.  "I will sleep alone tonight."

"Don't be silly.  You can come to our room, it's no problem."

Yuri was very careful to pay a lot of attention to me, and all but ignore Randy, who became more and more agitated.  But what could he do?  When it came time to fall asleep, he said "It's too hot in here.  I'm sleeping on the couch!" and left.

Day #4:

The power was still out, but the "stay inside" order was lifted, so we all drove up to open Barney's gym and have a decent workout.  Except Randy: he made an excuse and went home.

And didn't return any of my phone calls or emails.

I'm pretty sure he dumped me because of Yuri.