Nov 8, 2014

The Swashbuckling Boyfriends of November

November is my favorite month.  The colors are soft and muted, the sky is not too bright, the air is cool but not cold, it's festive but not overwhelming like December, and it contains my birthday and Thanksgiving, the two holidays that provide the most pleasure and least guilt.

Besides, when I was a kid, November and December were the only months where I could read without getting yelled at.

Mom and Dad disapproved of reading -- it was a waste of time, it would strain my brain, it was antisocial -- I should be out playing sports, or at least watching tv with the family.  Science fiction and fantasy was especially suspect, likely to turn me into an atheist, or, much worse, a Catholic.  So I always hid books, or read at my friends' house, or said they were for school.

But in November,they actually were for school.  Teachers always assigned us swashbuckling adventure novels to read over Thanksgiving and Christmas vacation!

It wasn't my fault -- blame my teacher.  Sorry, no time to play basketball in the driveway, or touch football in the schoolyard -- I had to get through this book.

Four of the books we were assigned were particularly memorable.  They had gay subtexts as well as a heteronormative primary plot.

1. The Count of Monte Cristo, by Alexander Dumas (1844).  Edmond Dantes escapes from his unjust imprisonment in the Chateau d'If, and gets vengeance on the people who betrayed him.  He gets a girlfriend, but also forms several passionate male friendships, notably with Peppino, a boy who was also betrayed and becomes his...um...."servant."  Henry Cavill, left, is one of the more muscular Dantes in film.



2. The Three Musketeers, by Alexander Dumas (1844). A young man named d'Artagnan wants to become a Musketeer, one of the king's bodyguards. The three current Musketeers reject him, but then find him worthy.  He gets a girlfriend, but rejects her; his most passionate relationships come with men. (Chris O'Donnell, left, is one of many hunky d'Artagnans).

3. Treasure Island, by Robert Louis Stevenson (1883). A boy helps pirates find buried treasure, with nary a woman in sight.



4. The Prisoner of Zenda, by Anthony Hope (1894). An Englishman on holiday in Ruritania bears a striking resemblance to King Rudolph, who has disappeared, and agrees to impersonate him.  He falls in love with the King's fiancee, but has to leave her.  The king and the commoner share many a touching moment.

5. The Scarlet Pimpernel, by the Baroness Orczy (1905).  A precursor of Zorro, Batman, and all of the other superheroes with a milktoast alter ego, Sir Percy Blakeney pretended to be gay -- weak, shrill, feminine -- but he was really a hetero hero, saving French aristocrats from the guillotine during the Reign of Terror.  He has a girlfriend, whom he marries, but he also spends time rescuing male aristocrats, notably the hunky Sir Andrew.


6. Captain Blood, by Raphael Sabatini (1922).  Dr. Peter Blood, an Irish physician (who would want to go to a doctor called Blood?), is wrongly convicted of treason and sold into slavery in the Caribbean.  He and his friend Jeremy Pitt commandeer a ship and become pirates. (Ross Alexander, top photo, played Jeremy Pitt in the 1935 movie).

All of these novels have been filmed many times, usually with a hetero-romance tacked on to provide a "fade out kiss" ending.  But I didn't know that during those long, cool November afternoons.

See also: Beefcake and Bonding in the Green Library.


Nov 7, 2014

Knowing Your Straight Friends #2: Basketball

Maybe you're not in danger of assault, getting fired from your job, or stupid homophobic questions like "What do they think causes that now?", so you don't need to pretend that you're straight.  But you still want to hang out with straight guys, get invited to their parties, be accepted as one of them.

First thing to realize: You will be asked to evaluate women's breasts and potential sexual prowess.  Straight guys think you are attracted to women -- you just happen to like men a little more -- and they can never be convinced otherwise.  So just go with the flow and say "Oh, yeah, she's hot. If I wasn't gay, I'd do her in a minute!"

Second thing to realize: You will be discussing The Game.  A lot.  If you don't know something about Sports, you will quickly become a wallflower.


Knowing about football will do the job pretty well, but for a backup, or off-season, you will also need to know about two subsidiary sports, basketball and baseball.

Straight guys love to compete over projectiles.  In basketball, they play on a "court," trying to throw the projectile through a hoop on the opposing team's side.  They can't grab or tackle each other; they can only block throws and try to wrest the ball out of their opponent's hand.


I was forced to play basketball in school.  Whenever I got the ball, I immediately handed it to whoever was standing closest to me, regardless of the team.

The good news:
1. Professional basketball doesn't have as many teams, ranks and categories as football.  There are only 30 teams in the National Basketball Association (NBA), and they're divided into six divisions.

2. You just need to follow "your team," the one closest to you geographically.  Not necessarily in your state.  For example, when I lived in Dayton, my "team" was the Indiana Pacers, not the Cleveland Cavaliers, because Indianapolis was closer than Cleveland.

The bad news:

1. Each team plays a whopping 82 games!

2. The season lasts from October to April, so for three months, the worlds of football and basketball collide!



Straight guys seem to have no trouble juggling the massive schedules.

3. Football players have to tackle you, so they tend to be big and buffed.  Basketball players have to throw a ball over your head, so they tend to be long and lanky, not particularly attractive.

But...a lot of regular hunks play basketball, too, and shirts-skins team patterns are not uncommon.

The big event of the year is the Playoffs, in late April, to decide the best team in the NBA.  During the last few years, the winning team is usually the Miami Heat, the San Antonio Spurs, or the Los Angeles Lakers.





College basketball is divided into the same divisions as college football.  It doesn't draw nearly as much interest, but you should know about March Madness, technically the NCAA Men's Division I Championship, when 38 college teams compete. Recent winners have included Connecticut, Louisville, Kentucky, Duke, Florida, and North Carolina.

You only need to know about the high school teams in your own city. and then only insofar as team members might be recruited for college teams or the NBA.

A lot easier than football, right?

See also: Knowing Your Straight Friends  #1: Football


Adam DeVine: Amazing Physique, Homophobic Past

If you've been watching Modern Family, you're probably wondering about Andy, the sweet, cheerful, ultra-feminine guy with a incredible -- repeat, incredible -- physique that Gloria hires as a nanny for the baby, to the consternation of her husband and teenage son.  At first I figured that he was using feminine mannerisms to signify that he was gay.

But it turns out that his plot arc is going in another direction: he and the teenage Haley have a sparring "I hate you!" attraction going on.

I looked him up on the internet, and found some amazing beefcake photos.




He's Adam DeVine, a 30-year old comedian from Omaha, Nebraska who has been performing on-screen since 2006, usually teamed with Anders Holms and Blake Anderson.  They have produced many comedy shorts, such as Religious Dad, Straight Outta Mordor, and Super Seniors, and three tv series for Comedy Central: Crossbows & Mustaches (2006-2008), Fifth Year (2008-), and the workplace comedy Workaholics (2011-2014).  




Comedy Central's humor is usually bitingly homophobic, so I'm leery about investigating Adam's work further, but a google search suggests that Workaholics has some gay subtexts combined with a lot of homophobia.  According to the Gender/Sex/Media Blog, being gay is presented as weird, stupid, and absurd.

Maybe gay male viewers are too overwhelmed by the spectacular physique to notice.







Still, Gloria might want to rethink her choice of nanny, especially if she intends to invite Cam and Mitchell over. There might be trouble.

Postscript: after four months, Andy has spent time with all of the other characters, but not Cam and Mitchell.  They were on screen together just once, in a group shot, and they haven't interacted at all.

Postscript: Entire season finished up, and still no Cam-Mitchell-Andy interactions.

Maybe it's in his contract.


Nov 6, 2014

Knowing Your Straight Friends #3: Baseball

Baseball may be the only third most important sport in the Straight Guy pantheon, but it's still more important than hockey, golf, tennis, wrestling, boxing, track and field, and gymnastics.  Besides, it's the only sport for Straight Guys to talk about when football and basketball season is over, roughly April to August.

And it's got a lot of sexual symbolism.  We used to classify sexual activity by running bases; hitting a home run was heterosexual intercourse.

Baseball bats are obvious phallic symbols.

And gay guys are still asked if they're a pitcher or a catcher, that is, a top or a bottom.

When Yuri was dating a baseball player in Florida, he was asked that every five minutes, by people who thought they were being very funny.


Baseball is played outdoors, on a diamond-shaped field.  The "pitcher," on the opposing team will throw a small round projectile at you.  Your job is to hit it with a bat, far enough so you can run around the diamond, touching three bases, before anyone on the other team can retrieve the projectile and touch you with it.

The main quality for success in baseball is hand-eye coordination, not height or strength, so all physical types can play.  Even little kids are often co-opted into Little League.

Major League Baseball teams are divided, like football and basketball, into two groups, the American League and the National League.  Each league is divided into three divisions, East, Central, and West.  The same city may have teams from two leagues, as in the New York Yankees and the New York Mets.

But don't worry, you just have to know "your team," usually the team in the city closest to you.  When I was growing up in Rock Island, most people belonged to the Chicago Cubs (3 hours away), though a few belonged to the St. Louis Cardinals (6 hours away).


Baseball season typically lasts for six months, from April to October.  Your team will play a whopping 162 games, five nights a week plus an occasional afternoon game, pairing off against every team in the league at least once.

At the end of October, the top teams in the football and basketball leagues play each other once to determine the championship, but in baseball, they play each other seven times  in a week-long festive occasion called the World Series.

The last few teams to win the World Series are: the San Francisco Giants, The Boston Red Sox, the Giants, and the St. Louis Cardinals.

Since nearly anyone can play baseball, there is a bewildering variety of minor leagues, semi-pro leagues, local teams, youth teams -- you name it.


Whenever Straight Guys can't get out to watch their pro team play, they'll make do with some of these local and regional games.  So just ask "How did the Moondogs do last night?" and be prepared to talked into a stupor.

See also: A Naked Baseball Player in the Kitchen.

Nov 4, 2014

Fall 2002: The Gay Psychic Angel

October 2002, around Halloween: I was teaching Sociology of Religion at Florida Atlantic University, and I invited representatives from various religious groups to speak to the class: Pentecostal, Eastern Orthodox, Buddhist, Muslim, Neo-Pagan.  For the New Age, I contacted the Center for Spiritual Living in Fort Lauderdale, and they sent me Raphael.

At least, I assumed that's why he and a friend appeared at my house one evening, and said "Hi, I'm Raphael, and this is Jordan. You called for us?"

I stood in the doorway, speechless, stunned.  Raphael  was a Cute Young Thing, in his twenties, a few inches shorter than me, with a nondescript physique but a face I can only describe as angelic: bright, shining, ever-smiling, mesmerizing.  I can't find any pictures of men that even approach his brilliance.  Jordan was a Cute Young Thing, too, but I can't remember what he looked like.

Finally I managed to stammer, "Hi...hi, nice to meet you."  I held out my hand.  Only Jordan shook it.

I invited them into the house and offered them sodas.  Raphael asked for his with a straw.

Then I noticed that his arms were hanging down limply from his shoulders.  They were paralyzed!

Jordan chose an easy chair and buried himself in a Tom Clancy novel.  Raphael began talking, I assumed about the tenets of his religion.  It was standard New Age stuff --  matter is an illusion; all of life is spirit; we have lived many times before.  But I was fascinated.

"Was I gay in all of my past lives?" I asked, surprised that I had come out so easily.

"Probably not. We're all gay, straight, male, female.  But we're surrounded by the same people in every life, Want me to check?"

"Sure."

"Press my hand against your Svadhishthana Chakra -- your abdomen."

I lifted up my shirt, took his hand -- surprisingly, it was warm, not cold -- and pressed it flat against my abs.  "This guy just wants to feel me up," I thought.

"No, that would be the Muladhara Chakra," Raphael said with a bright laugh.  "Your crotch."

Had he just read my mind?

"What does touching that tell you?" I asked.  "How much I like you?"

Raphael began to blush a little.  "Ok, I've got something.  I see you as an old man.  Very old, wearing overalls.  You are fascinated by a new invention."  He paused.  "Um...called a magic lantern.  I never heard of that -- do  you know what it is?"

"Early films in the 1890s were called Magic Lantern Shows," I said, shocked.  But then my inner skeptic kicked in.  There were posters from old movies on the wall -- obviously he surmised that I was a movie buff in this life.



I didn't care.  Raphael was the hottest guy I had ever seen!  I couldn't take my eyes off him.  I had to get him alone, away from the stern, Tom Clancy-reading Jordan.  "Can you read my future, too?"

"Yes, but for that, I need to touch an object of yours, something that you've handled often."

"Sure...um...let's go into the bedroom, and I'll find something."

I was still holding his hand.  I led him into the bedroom, and pressed his hand around the Kensington Runestone that I got in Alexandria, Minnesota when I was a kid.  "I see that you travel quite a bit," Raphael said.  "I've never been outside the country."

"Someday I'll take you to Paris," I said.  Then I felt my face burning.  I had said too much.

"You're going to Paris yourself in a few months, I see."

"Yeah, every year if I can."

"You'll get an opportunity there.  A job offer, maybe. But don't take it."

"Are you kidding?  I'd give anything to live in Europe!"

"No, you won't be happy there.  We need you here in America."

"We?"  It was time to make my move!  I carefully removed the Kensington Runestone from his hand, then wrapped my arm around him and kissed him.

It was a warm, innocent kiss, like they show on first dates on tv.  But it didn't stay innocent.  I became more aggressive, pressing our bodies together, pressing my hand against his crotch, unbuttoning his shirt...

His body stiffened, and he pulled his face away. "Wait, wait," he murmured.  "It's too soon."

"Oh...sorry," I said, heavily embarrassed.  "I thought..."

"It's ok."  I helped him button his shirt back up.   "We'll see each other again.  Let me give you my phone number.  Do you have a piece of paper?"

I put a scrap of paper on the desk, and watched while he took a pen in his mouth and deftly wrote down the number.

Then he kissed me again, briefly, and yelled out to Jordan that it was time to go.

Alone in my room, staring at the phone number, I started thinking.

1. I was interested in the paranormal, but did I really want to date a professional psychic?

2. Raphael's arms didn't work.  He must do things with his mouth and his feet, with Jordan as supplemental assistance.  I tried to imagine how he dressed, ate, brushed his teeth, went to the bathroom.  And as the boyfriend, the supplemental assistance would be my job.


I didn't call the next day.  Or the next.  Or the next.  The phone number stayed on my desk, staring up at me.

On Sunday, I planned to go to the services at the Center for Spiritual Living and surprise Raphael.  But I lost my nerve.

The phone number stayed on my desk for a long time.  Then one day it was gone.  Maybe it evaporated.

It's been 12 years, and I'm still kicking myself for letting the Psychic get away.

Well, maybe in my next life.

By the way:

1. Raphael was right: a few months later, in Europe, I met a guy at the Horseman's Club who invited me to stay.  Except it was a small town in the Netherlands, not Paris.

2. I didn't realize it until later, but Yuri was in his room the whole time, and he didn't hear a thing.

3. In the Catholic Church, the archangel Raphael is the patron of the handicapped.  His feast day is October 24th.  Just before Halloween.

See also: The Gay Monk and the Homophobic Demon; and How to Date a Blind Guy

Spring 2004: The Georgia Boy and the Cute Young Thing

When I was living in Florida in 2004, Gerry was a fixture at Barney's gym.  He arrived around 6:00 am, and spent the next five hours lifting weights, on the treadmill, and hanging out in the sauna and whirlpool. Sometimes he returned again in the afternoon.

Before you get excited: he was quite elderly, small, slight, and wrinkled, with arthritis and back pain that limited his mobility.  His visits were strictly therapeutic.  And to look at the cute guys.

He had been out for only a few years. When you are living in Georgia, working as a third grade teacher, and married to a Baptist minister's daughter, you don't come out.  You would be fired and divorced instantly, and the court would deny you visitation rights to your children.

So he waited until he retired and the kids were grown up, served his wife with divorce papers, and moved into a condo in Wilton Manors.

Newly out, free to date for the first time since the Eisenhower Administration, he wanted to try everybody and everything. And older was attractive in Florida.  But you had to be robust, active, and dominant, a leather Daddy or a priapric satyr (look it up).  Like 63-year old Troy, who stole my boyfriend two years ago.  Gerry was short, small, and frail.

And you had to be out there  -- at organizations, on the gay beach, in the clubs.  Gerry didn't have the mobility or the stamina.

He occasionally met someone online by doctoring his photo and saying he was 55.  But they always made an excuse right away, or engaged in some desultory "pity" acts.

I shared his bed once, when he made a "hookup" date with a guy in Miami.  Neither of them had cars, so I drove Gerry down for the hookup, with the proviso that I got to watch or participate.  Unfortunately, the guy seemed to be mostly into me.  I had to keep physically pushing him toward Gerry.

Gerry was despondent.  He wanted a boyfriend, but he couldn't even find a decent hookup.

So Barney and I decided to play matchmaker.  We invited Gerry to brunch at the Courtyard Cafe, the Wilton Manors equivalent of the West Hollywood's French Quarter.

We each brought a "date" to introduce to Gerry.  Barney brought a retired football coach who worked out at the gym. I brought a professor of Asian Studies who I met at the Club.

Both were robust, active, and dominant.

Both ignored Gerry.

But the waiter didn't.

He was in his twenties, taller than me, rather slim, rather flamboyant, with a long face and a shock of brown hair. His nametag read "Rick: Georgia."

Waiters at the Courtyard Cafe always flirted for tips, but Rick seemed particularly flirty, and he immediately zeroed in on Gerry.

When Gerry ordered the Eggs Benedict, Rick exclaimed, "You must be a Georgia boy, too!  I can tell from your accent!  What you doing hanging out with all these Yankees?"

He asked Gerry's name, and said "Why, darlin'!  My drag name is Geraldine Delicious!  We're twins!"

Then he pointed out the side dishes by wrapping his arm around Gerry's shoulders.

When he brought our food, he wrapped his arm around Gerry again and said "Careful, darling, the plate's hot."

Then he brought us some sweet rolls for the table.  "On the house," he said, touching Gerry's shoulder again.   "Can't have too many sweet things in your mouth, can you?"

Gerry was grinning broadly.  He had never been the subject of so much attention before, not even when he was married.  "Hey, do you think he's really interested, or just a flirt?"

I decided to find out.  I said I had to go to the bathroom, and grabbed Rick on the way to the kitchen.  He smiled at me.  "Ready for the check?"

"The check and your phone number," I said, as if flirting.

"Sure thing, Daddy.  But only if you share it with that cute Georgia boy!"

"Gerry is your type?"

"You have no idea!  I've always been into older guys, and to meet one from back home, and a cutie-pie to boot!  I could just melt!"  He pulled the check from his pad and scribbled down his number.  "Excuse me, Daddy, I have to deliver the check right to the table, if you know what I mean?"

Three weeks later, Rick moved in with Gerry.

The relationship was a rocky one: within a period of six months, they broke up, got back together, broke up, became roommates, got back together again, and broke up again.

Gerry had the time of his life.

See also: Me and the Kid.

Nov 3, 2014

Looking for Beefcake on the Swim Team

This isn't a picture of my high school swim team -- the yearbook photo wouldn't scan properly -- but two of the boys look exactly like my old high school classmates.

Back row right: looks exactly like Craig, who  sat next to me in every class from third grade through junior high,  participated in the famous streaking incident of 1974, and invited me to "get down" at his graduation party in 1978.

Front row center: looks exactly like David, who was dating my buddy Emily, except David was a bit more impressive in the locker room.

Is it any wonder that I went to all the swim meets?

Swimming was always a reliable source of beefcake.  In the summer, you could go to Longview Park Pool to look at the never-ending parade of beefcake, men with hairy chests, jocks in red swimtrunks, heavily-muscled bodies glistening in the afternoon sun.   When it got cold, you could get your beefcake quota by reading sports books about swimming (This also satisfied your parents, who were constantly trying to push you into liking sports.)





















I collected Boy Scout instruction manuals on swimming, diving, water polo, and life saving, and guides to high school and college swim teams.

















The only athlete I could name offhand was Mark Spitz, who won 7 gold medals in the 1972 Summer Olympics and had guest shots all over tv in 1973 and 1974.  Most of the gay boys at Washington Junior High had this poster on their bedroom walls.

See also: Cruising in the Cub Scouts.

Nov 2, 2014

Lucas Black: Gay Subtexts in the South


In the movies, people from the South are homophobic even when they're not.

Take this speech from Sling Blade (1996), in which 13-year old Frank (Lucas Black) explains why his mom's best friend (John Ritter) can't do anything to protect her from her abusive boyfriend:

He's funny, you know. Not funny "Ha-Ha", funny queer. He likes to go with men instead of women. That makes him not able to fight too good. He sure is nice, though. He's from St. Louis. People who are queer get along better in a big town. I wish he liked to go with women, I'd rather he be Mama's boyfriend than Doyle.

So he's got an affliction that keeps him from being able to fight or become Mama's boyfriend.  Sure is nice, though.

But implicit homophobia in Southern characters doesn't prevent gay subtexts; in fact, it facilitates them, since "no one" will believe that a masculine-coded Southerner could possibly be "funny queer."

Check out the career of 30-year old Lucas Black:

1. All the Pretty Horses (2000).  He plays a teenager in the Old West who rides with cowboy buddies (Matt Damon, Henry Thomas) and doesn't get a girl.

2. Killer Diller (2004). Good old boys Wesley and Vernon (Lucas, William Lane Scott) start a band together.

3. Friday Night Lights (2004). About a struggling Texas high school football team, with the coach (Billy Bob Thornton) big-brothering star athlete (Lucas).

4. Jarhead (2005). Marine (Jake Gylenhaal) buddies around with his platoon.  Lucas has only a few scenes as Southern-fried Chris Kruger, but there's a lot of testosterone in the air.





5. The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift (2007).  Alabama teen Sean Boswell (Lucas) moves to Japan with his Dad and gets a girlfriend, but buddies with  Han (Sung Kang). Han is killed, and the rage over his death leads Sean to become the champion drift-racer of Japan.

6. 42 (2013). Sports biography about baseball player Jackie Robinson.  Lucas plays Peewee Reese, Jackie's close friend.

Not bad for a Southern Baptist boy from Decatur, Alabama.

Roddy McDowall: Hiding in Plain Sight

Gay male actors born before Stonewall pretended to be heterosexual as a matter of survival.  They had "Hollywood marriages."  They brought heterosexual dates to events, and gave interviews about the type of woman they preferred.  Some, like George Takei and Richard Chamberlain, came out in old age, when their careers were over or almost over.  Some, like Charles Nelson Reilly and Paul Lynde, had such a fey stage presence that they figured it was obvious, no  need to come out. And some like Liberace, denied the "allegations" to their dying breath.

Roddy McDowall never denied anything, but he never said anything, either.  He "hid in plain sight," taking advantage of the homophobic myth that gay men don't exist, or if they do they're mincing, lisping pieces of fluff.

So, in this photo shoot, Roddy and fellow gay actor Tab Hunter cook weiners and cake in their underwear, and apparently no one in the 1960s had any idea.


Born in 1928, Roddy got his start as a child star, bringing wartime angst to the screen with boy-and-dog or boy-and-horse vehicles.  In his teens, he played Malcolm in Macbeth and David Balfour in an adaption of Robert Louis Stevenson's Kidnapped. 

He made the transition from child star to young adult seamlessly, playing prissy gay-vague characters, usually costarring with a more macho muscleman: Stuart Whitman in Shock Treatment (1964), Robert Redford in Inside Daisy Clover (1965), Dave Draper in Lord Love a Duck (1966).

His friends were usually muscular, too, such as Scotty Beckett and fellow gay actor Farley Granger. (There was originally a girl between them, but she's been photoshopped out).





During the 1970s, Roddy started making movies again, mostly playing fey, easily-ruffled characters, sometimes comic relief, sometimes villains. Sci-fi, horror, adventure, black comedy: The Poseidon Adventure, The Legend of Hell House, Arnold, Embryo, The Flood!, The Cat from Outer Space, Double Trouble, The Evil Inside Me....  Sadly, he may be best remembered for the gay-vague Galen in the Planet of the Apes franchise.

Occasionally guest spots on tv series, but only two starring roles, on The Fantastic Journey and Tales of the Gold Monkey, which I remember fondly because I dated one of the cast members.

Most of his characters in 261 movie and tv roles were gay-coded, but none were gay.

That's something gay actors of the closet generation would never do.



The key was to not say anything, and occasionally pose for a photo shoot entitled "Calling All Girls."

He died in 1998.