NYSocBoy's Beefcake and Bonding

One of the most horrifying stories in the Bible is the Sacrifice of Isaac (Genesis 22).

You probably remember it: God tells Abraham to kill his son. So he takes Isaac out into the woods, ties him up, raises the knife -- then, at the last moment, an angel appears and says something like "Hah, hah, fooled you -- God was just kidding! Here's a lamb for you to kill instead!"

When I was a Nazarene, no Sunday school teacher or preacher ever tried to explain the historical/cultural context of the story, how human sacrifice was commonplace, and some gods, such as Dagon, actually did demand children.

They didn't try to distinguish Abraham's act from the many crazy things people did today because "God told me to." Or wonder about what kind of God would play such a dirty trick.

Instead, they just praised Abraham for his unquestioning obedience, and drew a parallel with Jesus: . God wants to kill every one of us, but Jesus offered to take our place, so God killed him instead.

That didn't make me feel more comfortable.

I found it a example of the savagery beneath the heterosexist imperative: everyone said that fathers were wise, loving, and benevolent, but at any moment they could turn violent. And then say God told them to.

That didn't make me feel more comfortable, either.

According to the Biblical account, Isaac was sixteen years old at the time, already an adult in the eyes of his community. But the Sunday school teachers and preachers always envisioned him as a very little boy, too young to understand what was going on.

I preferred the illustration in my Children's Story Bible (top photo): a very muscular, grown-up Isaac with a handsome teen-idol face, naked except for a little white cloth, tied up with his arms behind his back, like Bomba the Jungle Boy.

Other artists have generally depicted a grown-up Isaac: an ideal opportunity to paint muscular male bodies. Gregorio Lazzarini shows Isaac fully nude, and transforms Abraham into a muscle daddy.

Jacopo Ligozzi's version (left) even has a penis showing.

See also: Bible Beefcake.

In the year 40,000, the President of Earth calls Barbarella (Jane Fonda) into action: a rogue scientist named Durand Durand has brought a "weapon" to the distant, unexplored planet Tau Ceti. This could cause the residents to experience neurotic aggression!

So she and her sentient gay spaceship ("Prepare to insert nourishment") travel to the distant planet. She is captured by carnivorous children and rescued by a child-catcher (Ugo Tognazzi). He asks to have sex with her.

Then she meets a blind angel, Pygar (John Phillip Law, star of Strogoff), who has lost his will to fly. She restores it by having sex with him.

Then they are both captured by the Great Tyrant (Anita Pallenberg), who calls Barberella "my pretty-pretty" and Pygar a "winged fruitcake." They refuse her request for sex.

Barbarella is rescued by the rebel leader Dildano (David Hemmings), who wants to have sex with her.

Recaptured, she is placed in the Excessive Machine to be orgasmed to death.

After a few more sexploits, the planet is destroyed. Pygar flies Barbarella, and the Great Tyrant to safety. "Why did you rescue her, after all the terrible things she did to you?" Barbarella asks. "Angels have no memory."

The 1968 movie may have been hetero porn, but the 1977 PG-rated re-release is a trippy sci-fi spoof. No one is actually shown having sex, or even making out, and the requests for sex are so emotionless and pedestrian that they seem merely polite social gestures, like shaking hands.

Barbarella is naked a lot, but with the outrageous costumes, sets, and dialogue -- "I'll do things to you that are beyond all known philosophies!"; "De-crucify him, or I'll melt your face!" -- you barely notice. Besides, there is a lot of male nudity, too, substantially more than in the French comic book series.

And oblique references to same-sex desire and practice that make you think that there might be gay people in this 1960s universe.

How did a hetero sex comedy turn into a gay classic?

Jane Fonda, by the way, is a strong gay ally.

Long Island, October 2000

I met Ozzie at one of Ravi's Bear Parties on Long Island: a 21 year old NYU undergrad, tall, muscular, with smooth dark skin and an enormous Kovbasa beneath the belt.

He was Moroccan, from in Tangiers, on the Strait of Gibraltar, where his father worked at the Continental Hotel, He spoke Standard Arabic, Moroccan Arabic, English, French, and Spanish.

Obviously I wanted to invite him home!

There was only one problem: I had (and still have) an inviolable rule, drummed into me through ten years in West Hollywood: you must end the evening with the same people you began the evening with. No abandoning them halfway through for a trick.

I always came to the Bear Parties with Yuri, who lived in a graduate student apartment at Long Island University, about thirty miles in the wrong direction from NYU.

The Bear Parties were on Wednesday nights, and I had class on Wednesday and Thursday both, so it made sensee to drive with Yuri and spent the night in his room afterwards, rather than taking the train all the way into Manhattan, and back again.

Besides, there were distinct advantages to spending the night in Yuri's room.

I wasn't going to abandon him tonight to escort a Cute Young Thing back to Manhattan, and I wasn't going to suggest sharing: Ozzie wasn't Yuri's type. He liked older men with bodybuilder physiques.

But Yuri, always easy-going, said "Not a problem. If you like him, I don't care. We will share him."

The full post, with nude photos and sexual situations, is on Tales of West Hollywood.

West Hollywood, February 1992

Have you ever wondered what happened to the Jews and other prisoners liberated from the concentration camps in 1945?

A few returned to their homes. But 800,000 had no homes to return to, or refused to go back to the neighbors who wanted to kill them.

They were put into displaced persons camps or residential facilities for up to two years, until a friend or relative could send for them, or until they could be repatriated

When she was liberated from Auschwitz, Lane's mother Rosa was sent to a residential facility run by some Catholic nuns in Weert, Netherlands, just over the border from Germany. She spent her first two weeks walking up and down the streets, stopping in every pastry shop, and eating all she could hold.

Then she set about returning to life again. She was planning to become a journalist before the War, so she found a typewriter and began writing. She brought articles around to the local newspapers, first in German, then, as she learned the language, in Dutch. Soon she was making enough money to move into an apartment with a female friend.

But in August 1947, an American cousin found Rosa and offered to bring her to Los Angeles.

Palm trees and movie stars! She eagerly agreed.

That's all we knew about Rosa's life in the Netherlands until after she died unexpectedly in February 1992, a few days after her 67th birthday.

When Lane and I were sorting through four decades of cards, bills, business papers, old school assignments, clipped magazine and newspaper articles, Jewish society newsletters, playbills, programs, and miscellaneous records, we found a packet of old letters addressed to Rosa at the Zusters Birgittinessen, and then at her apartment in Weert, and finally at her cousin's house in Los Angeles, with the postmark Eindhoven, Netherlands.

It's hard to decipher one side of a conversation in a foreign language after 47 years, but we got the general plot: Rosa was dating a member of the Dutch nobility, a Baron Hein Van Tuyll, who lived about twenty miles away in the Eymerick Castle.

In February 1947, Hein apparently proposed, and Rosa turned him down. She explains why: Je niet moet trouwen. We zullen vrienden altijd (You should not marry. We will always be friends).

He gamely continued to write to her every week through 1947, when the letters suddenly stop.

The Van Tuyll family is important in the Netherlands. Hein's father was the first president of the Dutch Olympic Committee. This statue outside the Olympic Stadium was erected in his honor.

This is the family coat of arms: three hounds, a crown, and two half-naked wild men carrying flowers.

"You should not marry,"I repeated. "Maybe Hein wasn't the marrying kind. Could your Mom have been dating a gay guy?

"We should go to the Netherlands next summer," Lane said, "And look him up."

"Look up your mother's old boyfriend, and ask if he's gay?"

"It wouldn't hurt. Or...maybe he has a hot gay son who will invite us to live in his castle. We would be sort of like brothers, after all."

I was hesitant. We spent last summer looking up Lane's heritage in Poland, and now we had to do it in the Netherlands? But I could wrangle a side-trip to Amsterdam out of it, and maybe even Paris, so I agreed.

In the days before Google, family research was tough. We couldn't track down Hein, but we found his son: 41 year old Sammy, the current Baron Van Tuyll, working for the Dutch Ministry of Finance in Den Haag. We made the call, and got an invitation to visit.

Den Haag, Netherlands, June 1992

We spend three days in Paris (not nearly enough time), overnight in Brussels to look at the Grand-Place and the Mannekin Pis, and then take the 2 1/2 hour train trip across the border to Den Haag.

We're only going to spend a few hours: in the late afternoon, we'll get on the train to Amsterdam, where the bars and bathhouses of Warmoesstraat await.

But we have time to see the Escher Museum, walk through the Haagse Bos, an ancient forest in the city center, and meet the Dutch deputy minister of finance at the Allard Restaurant.

Sammy is youthful-looking and athletic, surprisingly hip, a rock musician as well as an economist. But straight -- he shows pictures of his wife and four children. We show him the letters.

"You must not marry. We should be friends," he translates. "I can't imagine what your mother meant. Papa married in 1947. There were never any problems between him and my mother, none that I could see."

Remembering the evidence that my grandfather was gay, I ask "Did he have a lot of male friends? Maybe Rosa didn't want to compete."

"Oh, yes, Papa was very sociable. He had a passion for sports. He was always bringing home athletes: football players, rowers, bodybuilders...."

Lane and I exchange glances. "Was he into bodybuilding?" I ask. "I used to work for Muscle and Fitness."

"He didn't lift weights himself, but he loved bodybuilding as an art form. I remember when Reg and Marian Park came to dinner -- a former Mr. Universe -- he was as excited as a schoolgirl with a crush on a pop star. And this in a man who is the godfather of Queen Beatrix!"

A crush on Reg Park? Shouldn't marry? Was Hein gay or bi?

We keep our suspicions to ourselves.

We offer Sammy some of the letters. He takes four, including the last, written to Rosa in Los Angeles.

It ends with "After all, my dear Rosa, vriendschap is het enige dat telt."

Friendship is all that matters.

In West Hollywood our main form of entertainment was the Dinner Party. We hosted them, or were invited to them, at least once a week. They were a good way to catch up in those days before text messaging, meet your friends' new boyfriends, and of course, do a little sharing.

But you don't need to live in West Hollywood to host a real West Hollywood Party. You can do it anywhere, even in small towns on the Plains.

The Datae and Time:

Saturday night is best. Ask everyone to arrive by 6:00, so they'll be there by 6:30. You sit down to eat at 7:00, have the entertainment at 8:00, and the bedroom or bars by 10:00.

The Guest List:

The most that can sit comfortably in your living room, at least four, as many as eight plus you, your partner, and your housemates.

Only gay men, of course, and always an even number.

About half single and half partnered (romantic couples or best-friend pairs). Try for a mix of races and ages, and be sure to include:

1, A celebrity. Someone who is famous, at least locally. Actors are best, but musicians, politicians, and porn stars will work, too.

2. A newcomer, someone who has just come out. A Cute Young Thing preferred, but not required.

The Pre-Dinner Refreshments:

Most of my friends didn't drink, so there was just an assortment of soft drinks, juices, and coffee and tea. I suppose you could have alcohol, but not a lot. Some of the guys will be heading to the bars later.

For appetizers, something simple, cheese and crackers, a veggie platter, or hummus with pita pieces.

The Background Music:

Either classical or a selection of gay-positive pop songs. If you want to do the 1980s, I suggest:
1. "I'm Coming Out"
2. "It's Raining Men"
3. "Time Warp"
4. "Like a Virgin"

Never jazz, country-western, or show tunes!

The Conversation:

Before dinner, about half the conversation should involve gym routines, and the other half the latest movies and tv programs with gay subtexts or hunky stars.

Afterwards, it will be about sex, coming out, or homophobia.

If there's a lull in the conversation, ask guys to share one of the following:
1. Your coming out story.
2. The biggest penis you ever had.
3. A date from hell.
4. A celebrity date or hookup.

The Dinner:

We eat healthy all week, so the Dinner Party is a time to show your skill. Fatty meats, cheeses, cream sauce, rich desserts, bring them all out. Make sure it's colorful and festive-looking.

But don't prepare too much: half of your guests will just have a salad.

The Entertainment:

Usually a movie: fast, easy, and visual. But nothing serious or hard to follow: you will be chatting constantly throughout. A gay classic, or an action/adventure movie with a lot of beefcake.

You can substitute a gay-themed version of Trivial Pursuit or another party game, or, if you have some willing volunteers and the group is cool with it, an erotic dance or a sex show.

The Bedroom:

After the entertainment, your guests have the choice of going out to the bars together, or "sharing."

The uncensored post, with nude photos, is on Tales of West Hollywood.

I saw the name Pudge Heffelfinger online the other day.

Ok, "pudge" means fat, and a "heffelfinger" is a sex act, so..surely this was a made-up name, from a humorous story or satire.

But no, there really is a Heffelfinger family, with a member named Pudge.

Obviously I have to write a post about him. Someone with such a distinctive name must have some gay connection.

Pudge Heffelfinger (1867-1951) played baseball and football in high school in Minnesota, then went to Yale, where he became all-American three times in a row (I don't know what that means).

I couldn't find any shirtless pics, but he fills out this Yale sweater well. He was 6'3 and 200 lbs, a giant in his era.

After graduation, he played for the Chicago and Allegheny Leagues, where, in 1892, he was paid $500 for a game against Pittsburgh, becoming the first professional football player in history.

Later he coached the California Golden Bears, the Lehigh Brown and White, and the Minnesota Golden Gophers, plus returning to Yale as a guest player and coach. He appeared in exhibition games through his life -- the last time he played was in 1930, when he was 63).

Meanwhile, he published sales booklets for sports equipment and an annual book, Pudge Hefferfinger's Football Facts.

He produced a sports quiz radio program, plus a spy show, Secret Agent K-7.

For a career, Pudge worked in the shoe business and real estate, and spent twenty years as the Hennepin County, Minnesota Commissioner. In 1930 he ran unsuccessfully for Congress.

He died in Blessing, Texas in 1954, leaving a wife and four children.

But being married with children doesn't necessarily mean that Pudge was straight. What about this intimate pose in a cabinet photo from his Yale days?

The moustached guy with feminine hand thing and his wrist an inch or so from Pudge's crotch is Bum McClung, aka Thomas Lee McClung (1870-1914), three years younger, a "frosh" who became a football star in his own right, and, like Pudge, returned to Yale to coach throughout his life.

After graduation, Bum became the treasurer of Yale University, and in 1909 the United States Treasurer under President Taft.

When he died unexpectedly from an illness in 1914, an obituary called him "a remarkable athlete, a wonderful football player, a lovable classmate, a diligent student, a manly man–a type Yale men idealize for emulation."

You'd never make it to a high office in the U.S. today without being married, but Bum managed.

The late 19th century was the "era of the bachelor," when many men who liked women feared the loss of freedom that came with marriage, as well as the debilitating effect of the sex act itself. Being unmarried doesn't necessarily mean that Bum was gay.

Still...

Maybe he and Pudge....

Here's another picture of Bum McClung with an unidentified friend. He's doing that feminine hand thing again.

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Most people prefer Johnny Weissmuller's Tarzan. In 12 films (1932-1948), the former Olympic swimmer embued Edgar Rice Burroughs' creation with a savage innocence borrowed directly from Rousseau.

Others prefer Mike Henry's suave 1960s James Bond-style Tarzan, Denny Miller's beach boy, Ron Ely's lanky environmentalist, or Miles O'Keeffe's New Sensitive Tarzan of the 1980s. But there have been many others. Twenty men have played Tarzan since Elmo Lincoln in 1918. All provided ample beefcake, but some were better than others at evoking homoromantic subtexts:

1. Buster Crabbe, better known as Flash Gordon, played an exceptionally buffed Ape Man in a 1933 movie serial. He invented the Tarzan yell, and fell in love with a girl named Mary.

2. Herman Brix, who changed his name to Bruce Bennett so he wouldn't sound German, competed with Weissmuller in two movies, The New Adventures of Tarzan (1935) and Tarzan and the Green Goddess (1938). His Tarzan was cultured, sophisticated, and spoke proper English. He rescued girls, but never fell in love with them.

3. Lex Barker took the mantle from the aging Weissmuller and played the Lord of the Jungle five times (1949-1953). He had Jane at his side just as often as his predecessor.

4. Gordon Scott, who had an amazingly v-shaped torso, played Tarzan six times (1955-1960), with a "Me Tarzan" patois that sounded very odd coming from an immaculately coiffed 1950s head. He was uninterested in heterosexual romance most of the time, but never met a man who wasn't planning to stab him in the back.

5. Jock Mahoney, at age 44, became the oldest Tarzan in Tarzan Goes to India (1962) and Tarzan's Three Challenges (1963). He doesn't have a girlfriend, but in Three Challenges he gets a sidekick, the young Thai prince Kashi (Ricky Der).

6. Greystoke: the Legend of Tarzan, Lord of the Apes (1984) was an attempt to provide a realistic view of the Ape Man mythos. Though this was the era of the man-mountains, Christopher Lambert was not particularly massive, because the Ape Man's diet would not have been good enough for bulking up. He had romantic relationships with both Jane (Andie McDowell) and Philippe (Ian Holm)

7. Joe Lara starred in Tarzan in Manhattan (1989), with Jane as a cab driver, and Tarzan: The Epic Adventures (1996-97), with no Jane.

8. Wolf Larson (left) became the second TV Tarzan in the French-Canadian production (1991-94), and the only one to have a teen sidekick (played by Sean Roberge). Jane (Lydie Denier) became a French environmental scientist.

9. The last live-action Tarzan on the big screen was played by Casper Van Dien in 1998. He's engaged to Jane Porter.

10. In 2003-4, a WB series transformed Jane Porter into a NYPD detective, and Tarzan (Travis Fimmel) into her industrialist boyfriend. Sounds awful.

10. Malcolm Jamal-Warner as Theo.

On a 1986 episode of The Golden Girls, the girls are planning a funeral, but of course they can't hold it on Thursday night, because of The Cosby Show.

During the 1990-1991 tv season, The Simpsons was facing off against The Cosby Show on Thursday nights, inspiring participants in The Rocky Horror Picture Show to alter Frank's line "I'll remove the cause, but not the symptoms," to "I'll remove The Cos, but not The Simpsons."

9. Reno Wilson as Howard, Theo's friend

It didn't work -- The Simpsons fled to Sunday nights, leaving The Cos intact. For ten years, every series that aired opposite The Cosby Show floundered in the ratings. Does anyone remember Our World, The Charmings, Knightwatch, or A Fine Romance? But anything that aired after The Cosby Show was guaranteed gold: Family Ties, Cheers, Night Court, Wings, L.A. Law...

8. Bill Cosby as Cliff

What was this comedy juggernaut, and why did it resonate so much with audiences during the 1980s conservative retrenchment?

Bill Cosby, previously featured on I Spy, The Bill Cosby Show, The New Bill Cosby Show, and Fat Albert, was the Art Linkletter of the 1970s. As black comedians became increasingly angry and politicized, their jokes aimed at fighting The Power, Cosby retreated into a cozy suburban world about henpecked husbands, sullen teenagers, and kids who say the darndest things.

7. Allen Payne as Lance, Charmaine's boyfriend

When his tv series, The Cosby Show, premiered in 1984, it featured something tv audiences had never seen before: an affluent black family for whom being black was incidental.

No one expressed surprise over seeing an affluent black family. No one experienced racism, or even remembered racism. In fact, race was not mentioned at all, except for an occasional nod to African-American culture ("remember when we danced at the Apollo?") and very, very occasional references to the Civil Rights Movement as a relic of the long-dead past ("see what we overcame?").

6. Earle Hyman as Russell, Cliff's father. Gay in real life.

That was just what 1980s conservatives wanted to hear. There's no racism. If you're poor, it's your own fault. You'r just too lazy to get a job as a doctor or lawyer, like the Huxtables.

In West Hollywood, my roommates and I watched it sometimes -- we had to, or face accusations that we were racist -- but not often. It had some other features that appealed to 1980s conservatives, but not to us:

More after the break.

Honorable Mention: Carl Anthony Payne as Cockroach, Theo's friend. He was fired after only 12 episodes for challenging Cosby's authority.

The Huxtables consisted of Cliff and Claire (a doctor and a lawyer, respectively), and their children: Sondra, Denise, Theo, Vanessa, and Rudy. When Rudy got too old to say cute things, they added Olivia. In the last season, they added Erika.

5. Geoffrey Owens as Elvin, Sondra's husband.

That's right: a distaff household, six girls, one boy. Apparently the producers thought that girls would be less threatening to a mainstream (i.e., white) audience than lots of strapping, muscular men.

Therefore there was no beefcake. None. At all. Theo (Malcolm Jamal-Warner) eventually developed an impressive physique, and other actors, playing daughters' boyfriends, strutted across the stage. Theo had an every-changing collection of best buddies and school friends. No one ever fumbled with a button. Every one of these pictures is from the actor's other tv work or modeling.

4. Merlin Santana as Stanley, Rudy's boyfriend

Plus, this was a gay-free Brooklyn. In an era when "gay army buddy visits" or "brother comes out" episodes were commonplace in sitcoms, The Cosby Show never mentioned gay people at all, ever. They did not exist.

There was not a lot of gay-friendliness among the cast. In his stand-up routines, Bill Cosby frequently expressed horror over men with feminine traits, although he never (to my knowledge) used the word "gay."). In 2013, when Raven Simone, who played the toddler Olivia, came out as a lesbian, none of her former coworkers commented, and one doesn't see a lot of gay roles among any of them.

3. Seth Gilliam as Aaron, Pam's boyfriend.

There were some amusing episodes. I liked "Happy Anniversary," where the Huxtables lip-synch to Ray Charles'"Night Time is the Right Time," and "The Night of the Wretcheds," when Vanessa sneaks off to a concert, and Claire turns into a Dragon Lady: "You went to BALTIMORE for BIG FUN with the WRETCHEDS!!!"

2. Deon Richmond as Kenny, Rudy's friend, who she insists on calling "Bud."

You can see them on youtube (Happy Anniversary and Big Fun), and skip the rest of the series. In the end it's just another example of 1980s heterosexism.

And the #1 Top Hunk?

#1 Peter Chiara as Peter, Rudy's friend.

Come on, who could resist that face?

See also: The Golden Girls in West Hollywood; and What Happened to the Black Beefcake?

Springtime on the Plains is a paradise of beefcake, brawn, cruising, and sausage sightings, but yesterday was especially busy. Muscles and bulges everywhere I looked.

1. Student Union. I arrive on campus and walk through the Student Union on the way to my office. There are tables full of students in muscle shirts. One is a bodybuilder, displaying a smooth, hard chest and thick biceps as he bends over a chemistry textbook.

2. Intro Class. 100 students in stadium seats. I wander among them as I lecture. A bird's eye view of tight t-shirts and short pants.

3. Bathroom Break. I always stop at the bathroom between classes, both to go and to check my grooming. A young professor with an uncut Kielbasa+ is just finishing up.

4. Prospective Students on Tour. A group of fifteen boys in muscle shirts, plus a few girls, being led across the quad. They gaze, gawk, ask questions. A Hispanic guy with brown skin and long, thick muscles makes eye contact and smiles.

5. Lunch at Chipotle. The guy making my chicken and black bean burrito has his shirt unbuttoned three buttons. From my angle, I can look right down it to see the outline of his hard, slightly hairy chest.

6. Afternoon Seminar. Seven women and three men. The men sit together in the front row -- safety in numbers, I guess. One always has his legs spread as far as they will go, like he's cruising in a bar. I'm not allowed to ask out students in my class, but after final grades are posted...

7. Campus Bookstore. An older guy, professor or nontraditional student, husky, Middle Eastern, is leafing through one of the bargain books. Definite bulge.

8. Volleyball. They're playing volleyball on the grass outside the Fine Arts Building. Eight guys, all of them shirtless. I can't stand it!

9. Gym. It's warm enough to jog outside, but I run around the indoor track anyway, to get a view of the three (three!) shirts vs. skins basketball games being played on the floor below.

10. Locker Room. The physics professor with the husky, hairy body, the six-pack abs, and the enormous Mortadella on his way to the shower as I come in. He doesn't bother with a towel.

11. Student Union Snack Bar for my post-gym apple and power bar. There's a cute, nerdish guy named Dustin at the cash register who always cruises me. Today he makes sure that our hands "accidentally" touch as he gives me my change.

12. Bathroom Again. This time on the second floor of the Student Union, down the hall from the student organizations. A row of urinals with no barriers between. There's already someone standing at a urinal, talking on his cell phone as he [censored].

13. Office Hours. One of the other professors in my department is talking to a gigantic bodybuilder in a black muscle shirt. "I'd like you to meet my husband," she says.

14. The Artist. I walk through the Fine Arts Building on the way to the parking lot. An art student passes me, carrying an abstract sculpture. He's short, sandy-haired, smiling, wearing green shorts with...you guessed it. Yet another enormous bulge.

"Nice," I tell him. "A real work of art."

15. The House Across the Street. A few yards from where my car is parked: four guys sitting on the front steps. One is playing a guitar. They're all shirtless.

It's been like ten hours in a bath house. And I still have dinner and trivia night at the gay-friendly coffee house to go.

Who needs West Hollywood?

The full post, with nude photos, is on Tales of West Hollywood

New Orleans, March 1985

When my Grandma Davis died in 1975, she left $5,000 to each of her 12 grandchildren, as a "wedding present," to be bestowed upon them on their wedding day.

In the spring of 1985, I was telling my mother about my difficulties making ends meet in Hell-fer-Sartain, Texas, and she said, "It doesn't look like a wedding is going to happen, so why don't we give you your Grandma's money now?"

The check came in February. The $5000 had become $12,428, the equivalent of $28,000 today. Enough to pay my rent for the next six months, get my car repaired, visit Europe, move to Los Angeles next summer -- and, right now, Spring Break to New Orleans!

The minute my last class ended, I got into my car and drove the six hours to New Orleans, and I didn't get back until an hour before my first class began.

Years later, after living in the gay neighborhoods of West Hollywood, San Francisco, and New York, I found the French Quarter inadequately gay, but in 1985 I loved the old French architecure of the Vieux Carre, the Voodoo Museum, and the bright, cheery gay bars, especially Cafe Lafitte in Exile (great name!).

It wasn't Mardi Gras, so guys weren't flashing their equipment to the crowd, but I still saw my fair share of penises.

On my first night, I went home with a hairy, muscular bear in his 40s. While I was going down on him, he talked nonstop about New Orleans' ghosts and hauntings.

On my second night, I went home with a short, compact University of Michigan undergrad on spring break, who loved the "fact" that I was from Texas.

On my third night, I somehow attracted the attention of a Cute Young Thing. I don't remember his name, so I'll call him Jasper.

Jasper was cute: fuzz-headed, blue eyes, long tan muscles, wearing a yellow t-shirt and tight jeans. He had a soft Southern accent that I found attractive. But I was 24 years old, too old for him.

"Bedtime snack for your boyfriend?" he asked.

"You're not my boyfriend."

"Trick, then. You have no idea how good in bed I am. Give you a hint -- I call it my one-eyed monster!" He giggled.

The rest of the story is too explicit for Boomer Beefcake and Bonding. Read it on Tales of West Hollywood.

When I moved to Los Angeles in 1985, my mother called every week, usually early Saturday morning, and asked "What stars have you met?" But she wasn't familiar with most of the actors of my generation, so "Michael J. Fox" got a polite murmur, "Robin Williams" a vague "Oh yeah, I've heard of him," and "Lee H. Montgomery" a blank "Who's that?"

But Lee had more than enough claims to fame (and he was a lot friendlier than Robin Williams).

He played the boy who taught his pet rat to kill in Ben (1972). If you separate it from the premise, the theme song, sung by Michael Jackson, is a touching evocation of same-sex love:

Ben, the two of us need look no more
We both found what we were looking for.
With a friend to call my own, I'll never be alone,
And you, my friend, will see, you've got a friend in me.

In The Savage is Loose (1974), an entry in the "sexually dangerous kid" genre that Mark Lester and Scott Jacoby specialized in, David (Lee) is shipwrecked on a desert island, along with his Dad (George C. Scott) and Mom. David eventually morphs into the bodybuilding hunk John David Carson (left), and tries to kill his Dad so he can mate with Mom. About the same plot as What the Peeper Saw, but with more nudity.

In Burnt Offerings (1976), a married couple (Oliver Reed, Karen Black) moves into a California mansion with their son David (Lee) and elderly Aunt Elizabeth (film legend Bette Davis). As the house starts asserting itself, it tries to drown David, and then drops a pillar on him.

Was there a fad for threatening half-naked kids in the 1970s? It also happened in The Possession of Joel Delaney and The Omen.

By the way, the hunky Oliver Reed hangs out in a swimsuit.

When Lee hit adolescence, his chunkiness melted away, and he did the standard tv movies and guest spots on Chips, Family Ties, Fame,Hotel, and Dallas.

By this time, Lee had a tight, firm, hirsute physique, and he knew what to do about it. In Night Shadows (1984), also released as Mutant, he displays his chest at all times, even the most inconvenient (while renting a room, at the doctor's office five minutes after the doctor says "You can put your shirt back on"). Incidentally, there's also a strong homoerotic subtext as Mike (Lee) cries for his dead "brother" Josh (Wings Hauser).

Many of Lee's teenage and young adult performances feature displays of his chest and abs, and strong buddy-bonds: Prime Risk (1985) and The Midnight Hour (1985), the episode "Man to Man" of Highway to Heaven (1986), and one of the more controversial of the Schoolbreak Specials, "Hear Me Cry" (1984), about two high school boys who make a mutual suicide pact.

His characters are often uninterested in women, though a girl is usually thrown in, almost as an afterthought, to provide a heterosexist fade-out kiss.

In 1986, Lee retired from acting to concentrate on his music.

I met him at a party in 1987, and assumed he was gay, but I don't really have any evidence one way or the other. The story is on Tales of West Hollywood.

Like Scott Madsen, the Soloflex Guy , and Clara Pelter, who asked "Where's the beef?", Lucky Vanous became famous in an instant. Though the Nebraska native had been modeling and studying acting for several years, he became the talk of the town through a series of heterosexist commercials for Diet Coke: some female office workers gaze through the window at the construction site next door, where lean, muscular Lucky goes on his break, rips his shirt off, and opens a can of Diet Coke. They become more and more aroused as he drinks.

He was not a bodybuilder, but he was lean, muscular, and hirsute, a perfect New Sensitive Man even without saying "I know how you feel."

Lucky's exercise book and video, aimed at a female audience (The Ultimate Fat-Burning Workout) appeared in a few months. In May 1994 he took off his shirt on tv sitcom Wings. He was a presenter at the Clio Awards (for excellence in advertising). In December was profiled in Playgirl.

A couple of movie roles followed, plus some tv: the evening soap opera Pacific Palisades (1997), guest spots on Pensacola: Wings of Gold and Will and Grace, and finally 18 Wheels of Justice (2000-2001), about a federal agent turned trucker who helps people with their problems.

Although in real life Lucky was always gracious to his gay fans, his stage persona maintained the heterosexist "every woman's fantasy" myth, insisting that all women but no men wanted to see him with his shirt off. So the shirt came off when the audience was mostly women, but stayed on when it was mostly men. This promo for 18 Wheels of Justice gives you the general idea.

Today Lucky owns the Lucky Devil's Tavern on Hollywood Boulevard, near Highland, which offers healthy choices in addition to the usual deep-fried bar cuisine.

See also: The Coca-Cola Kid.

In the fall of 1972, when I was in seventh grade, my friend's Craig's older brother had a job at Larson's Funeral Home.

Jim was sixteen years old, tall and lean, with sharp features, a thick neck, and hard wiry biceps (I never actually saw him naked).

All he had to do was stay in the office overnight to answer the telephone, take down the information about someone who just died, and call the mortician to arrange a pickup.

Most nights, no one called, so Jim just camped out in the office: there was a television and a couch where he could sleep. Down the hall there was a kitchen, with lots of leftover hors d'oevres in the refrigerator.

No one said Jim couldn't have friends over. On more than one occasion, he had just enough time to shoo everyone out and dispose of the pizza boxes and beer cans before the mortician arrived with a pickup.

Seventh graders were all in awe of the boy who had a brother who worked with dead bodies! Was it gross? Was it creepy?

Could we see one of the dead bodies?

We asked, but Jim refused: "I could get into a lot of trouble."

"Come on -- you let your friends visit all the time."

"Yeah, my friends. Grownups, dig? I could get into a lot of trouble letting little kids run wild in the funeral home. What if you knocked over a funeral urn, and scattered some poor guy's ashes all over?"

That only made us more anxious to go.

Finally, one Friday morning around Halloween, Jim gave in. "We just had a new pickup last night," he told Craig. "That boy who died in the car accident down in Coal Valley. He's still in the embalming room. You guys come over tonight around 10:00 pm, and I'll give you a tour."

10:00 pm? We had to be in bed by 10:00! This would take a little strategizing:

1. Brett, the cute dark-haired boy I danced with at the canteen, invited Craig, Bill, and me over for a spur-of-the -moment sleepover.

2. At 9:00 pm, Brett's older brother and his friend offered to take us all out to Happy Joe's for pizza. They said "We might be back a little late."

3. At 10:00 pm we parked on a side street and, talking and laughing to cover up our nervousness, walked up to the front door of Larson's Funeral Home.

Jim let us in, told us to wipe our feet, and showed us around.

The lounges, the music room, the library, the coffin room.

Jim demonstrated why Barnabas Collins, the vampire on Dark Shadows, was never filmed getting out of his coffin. There's no way to do it without looking ridiculous.

That was interesting, but we wanted to see the dead body!

The small chapel, the large chapel, the kitchen, the office.

What about the dead body?

"Ok, I saved the scariest part for last," Jim said loudly, stopping in front of a tan metal door. "I just want to make sure you're prepared. Sometimes the eyes are still open, and they follow you around the room. And do you know what rigor mortis is?"

We shook our heads.

"You know why they call corpses stiffs? Because their bodies stiffen up. Everything stiffens, even, you know, down below."

"No way!" I exclaimed.

The rest of the story, with nude photos, is on Tales of West Hollywood

Durban, South Africa, July 2006

When I visited South Africa for a conference in 2000, I met two guys. One spoke Zulu and the other spoke Khoisan.

My friend Doc and I returned for another conference in 2006, eager for more sex and languages. The conference lasted for three days, but we decided to stay for eight, to give us a chance to find speakers of:

1. Zulu
2. Xhosa
3. Afrikaans
4. Tswana
5. Sotho

Tuesday: Jet-lagged.

Wednesday: Zulu

Spoken by 1.1 million people near Durban.

Your baseball bat is big: bat yakho baseball kuyinto enkulu

Ok, I've been with a Zulu guy before, but Doc hadn't. A night at the Lounge, Durban's biggest gay bar, yielded a three-way hookup with Joseph, a biology teacher: in his 20s.

Thursday: Xhosa, a "click" language spoken by 8.2 million people in the Eastern Cape province.

I want to go home with you: ndifuna ukuya ekhaya kunye nawe

There are a lot of Xhosa speakers in Durban. After we told Joseph about our quest, he introduced us to an ex-boyfriend, Wushi, who worked in a garage: a gym rat in his 30s, rather hefty, with a little belly.

Friday: Afrikaans

Spoken by 7.1 million people, mostly descendants of Dutch Boer settlers. Unfortunately, they are mostly on the west side of the country, a day's drive from Durban.

I like to eat sausages: Ek hou daarvan om wors te eet

We rented a car and drove to Johannesburg, six hours north of Durban, to the Rand Afrikaans University in Johannesburg, that offers courses in both Afrikaans and English.

We walked on the campus. Nothing.

We went to the Department of Afrikaans and talked to the only professor who was there during the winter break. He was, surprisingly, black, or what they call "Colored" in South Africa.

He told us that Afrikaans was very much a "mother tongue," spoken at home but not on the streets.

In the evening, we went to the Melville, Johannesburg's gay neighborhood, hoping to meet an Afrikaans speaker in the Factory or the REC Room.

At the REC Room, I picked out a likely looking candidate: white, shorter than me, solidly built, a little chunky. Light brown hair, round face, nice smile.

"Ik heet Boomer," I said in what I thought was Afrikaans. "Ik kom uit..."

"Are you from Amsterdam?" he exclaimed. "I would love to go there! Is it as hot as they say?"

We didn't meet anyone who spoke Afrikaans, but English is ok, too.

.

Saturday: Tswana

We visited Constitution Hill and the Lion Park before driving about an hour north to Pretoria in search of Tswana, spoken by 4.4 million people in Botswana and nearby.

What is your name? Leina le gago ke mang?

This time we were smart. We logged onto a chatroom in advance and arranged a meeting with Thabo, who worked in information technology. He took us to dinner at an Indian restaurant and then to a gay bath house.

In his 40s, bearded, slightly hairy chest.

Sunday: Break

We visited the Vortrekker Monument, Church Square, and the Transvaal Museum, then had Chinese food and stayed in our hotel room for the night, watching Malcolm in the Middle, The Simpsons, and Family Guy.

"We're doing something wrong," Doc said. "We're meeting lots of completely Western guys, the same that you would meet in Vienna or Amsterdam. I want to meet tribal Africans."

"What do you mean?" I asked. "Grass huts and talking drums went out in the 1930s."

"Not that, but some of the old culture. Same-sex relations that were age and gender-stratified, before the Western gay culture took over."

"So...street cruising?"

Monday: Sotho.

Spoken by 5.6 million people.

Which way is the toilet? Batekamore e kae?

We selected a likely village, Zwelisha, in the heart of the Drakenburg Mountains near the border of Lesotho. Not much there but tin-roofed houses, a clinic, and a high school, a low yellow building.

Even though it was a cool winter day, we ran across a group of high school boys walking along the side of the road, naked except for loincloths, their bodies covered with white clay. They made flexing body-building gestures to us.

We stopped in at the clinic to ask what was going on.

The young doctor on call -- actually a medical student from Johannesburg -- told us that it was a manhood ritual. "They spend a week in a lodge, bragging and bonding. They used to fight with spears, but now it's usually wrestling. Same thing. Hoe meer dinge verander, hoe meer het hulle dieselfde, we say."

Wait -- was this guy Afrikaans?

He was.

Tuesday: Back to Durban

Four out of five languages isn't bad.

The uncensored post, with nude photos and sexual content, is on Tales of West Hollywood.

Of all the villains who befuddled the Dynamic Duo on the 1960's Batman series, Frank Gorshin's Riddler was easily the most memorable -- for his giggly, frenetic energy, for his rather clever riddles, and for his obvious crush on Robin. He preferred capturing Robin alone, with no Batman interfering, so he could caress the Boy Wonder's chest and shoulders, touch his hand, draw his face close, and look for all the world as if he wanted to kiss rather than kill him.

And for his physique. Most Batman villains were dumpy at best, but the Riddler was hot, lean and toned, and his green jumpsuit was even more revealing than Robin's (after a few episodes, the censors forced him to wear a silly green business suit to hide his obvious gifts beneath the belt).

Frank Gorshin was a bulging fixture in 1960s tv. In a famous 1969 episode of Star Trek, he plays Bele, the crazed survivor of a race of black-white aliens who all died trying to kill a race of white-black aliens. Lou Antonio, right, who played his white-black nemesis, was equally bulgeworthy).

But Frank Gorshin was more than revealing tights and frenetic energy. He began his career playing juvenile delinquents in the 1950s, and starred in dozens of movies, playing mostly villains and tough guys. A skilled impressionist, he won a Tony for playing comedy legend George Burns in the one-man show Say Goodnight, Gracie. And, although he was married for 50 years, he was reputedly gay in real life. He died in 2005.

I don't remember much from 1965, when we were living in Racine, Wisconsin, but I remember my dismal, depressing 5th birthday on November 19th. My mother and I were both sick -- she was actually pregnant, and gave birth to my sister two days later.

I got a Tell-the-Time Clock with a smiley face and gloves on its hands, but I was too sick to play with it. There wasn't any cake. I sat on the couch, sipping 7-Up and watching tv. First The Flintstones, and then Tammy, with a sugary mawdlin song that's still etched into my brain.

I hear the cottonwoods whisperin' above.
Tammy--Tammy-Tammy's in love.

It was a hayseed sitcom (1965-66) about a bayou gal who becomes the secretary for a powerful industrialist and sets her sights on his fey son.

An earlier movie series (1957, 1961, 1963) had the bayou gal (Debbie Reynolds, Sandra Dee) bringing joie de vivre to effete city folk, and meanwhile falling in love with a different rich boy in each installment (Leslie Nielsen, John Gavin, Peter Fonda). The theme song peaked at #1 on the pop charts in 1957.

My parents liked it so much that they named my sister "Tammy."

I hated the song (maybe because my father sang it at random moments for the next twenty years), but I liked the tv show, because Tammy was courting a boy (David Macklin) who didn't really like girls. He was just playing along.

And he obviously had something extra beneath the belt.

David Macklin popped up again and again during my childhood. A teen surfer on Gidget (1966). A fratboy on The Munsters (1966). A hippie on Ironside (1968). An abused rich kid on Cannon (1973). A boy who hosts his visiting aunt without realizing that she's dead on The Twilight Zone (1960, but I saw it around 1974).

His characters never liked girls, unless they were forced to, and he had a thin, haughty face and haunted eyes that made him look like he knew about the Tripods.

You never saw David nude, or even shirtless, but if you looked closely, you could tell that he belonged to the Burt Ward, Frank Gorshin, and Ken Clark club of beneath-the-belt hugeness.

He had only a few significant movie roles. In The Young Animals (1968), new kid in town Tony (Tom Nardino, who would go on to star in the gay-themed Siege) tries to make peace between warring gangs, especially the white gang led by Bruce (David). The Mexican was led by Paco (Zooey Hall, who would go on to star in the gay-themed Fortune and Men's Eyes with Sal Mineo). I haven't seen it, but apparently there's some substantial gay subtexts.

Welcome to Arrow Beach (1974) is about a brother and sister who eat people. David plays a hospital orderly who stumbles onto their nefarious plot.

David disappeared from the screen in the 1980s. Today he lives in Albuquerque, New Mexico, where he makes ceramics, collects Sherlock Holmes memorability (especially involving Basil Rathbone), and teaches acting. He also runs a yahoo group for movie fans, where he often publicizes issues of gay and lesbian interest.

Maybe he's gay. His characters were gay enough for a 5 year old.

See also: My First Bulge

West Hollywood, Summer 1989

It's my third date with Lane, the date you traditionally introduce him to your friends, so we're having dinner at my house with Raul, Will, my Celebrity ex-boyfriend, Fred and Matt...and my housemate Derek?

Derek and I are not close. We don't eat meals together, we rarely share each other's dates. We are invited to each other's parties by default, but we rarely attend.

So why is he here?

I'm worried that the former fitness model with the baseball bat between his legs will steal my new boyfriend before we even have a chance to seal the deal. It's happened before.

I serve barbecued chicken, baked potatoes, "roshineers," and tomatoes. Lane brings a salad, and Derek furnishes the desert.

After dinner we start talking about childhood crushes -- tv and movie stars you found dreamy, back in the day: Luke Halpin of Flipper, Desi Arnaz Jr., Barry Williams of The Brady Bunch.

Derek keeps silent. He's substantially older than the rest of us, so he probably doesn't want to call attention to his age by mentioning Ricky Nelson or...or Frank Sinatra.

Then someone mentions David Cassidy, the androgynous star of The Partridge Family, who had a string of hits in the early 1970s: "I Think I Love You,""I Woke Up in Love this Morning,"

"Incredibly hot!" Will exclaims. "Those eyes! That voice!"

"And so fey," Lane says. "It's obvious he's one of us."

We all nod in agreement.

"He's bi," Derek says suddenly. "But mostly into girls. Guys once in a blue moon. Pity...he's got a face that can break your heart."

"Do you...um...have firsthand knowledge of this bi thing?" I ask.

The rest of the story is on Tales of West Hollywood.

Israeli actor Omri Katz played J.R.'s son on Dallas (seen here hugging his gay-vague nanny, played by Christopher Atkins), and a scientist's son zapped into a world of sentient dinosaurs in Adventures in Dinosaur City. But he's probably most famous for the gay-vague classic Eerie Indiana (1991-92).

It lasted for only 17 episodes (plus an eight-episode spin-off starring Daniel Clark), but it is still remembered and discussed by fans. One of the first of the teen-paranormal series of the 1990s, it drew on Twin Peaks (1990-1991) to depict a small town with an overarching mystery to be solved, with minor mysteries along the way.

Marshall Teller (Omri) moves with his parents to a small town in Indiana where weird things happen. Tupperware containers keep you alive forever. Time stops. ATMs aren't what they seem. There's a tornado every year on the same date.

A world full of bizarre events, where everyone has a secret agenda and nothing is what it seems? That's the life of every kid, of course, but it also reflects the journey of gay boys as they try to negotiate the mine-field of adult heterosexism, the constant "What girl do you like?" and "You'll meet a girl someday."

Marshall pairs up with local kid Simon Holmes (11-year old Justin Shenkarow) to investigate. They are often assisted by mysterious grayhaired boy, who has no name and no memory of his past, but calls himself Dash X (16-year old Jason Marsden, right). But more often he has a hidden agenda of his own.

There were few girl-crazy plotlines -- neither Simon nor Dash X so much as glances at a girl -- but there's lots of captures and daring rescues. However, Marshall remains just a close friend with Simon, while he is quite obviously attracted to the infuriating, mysterious, powerful yet somehow vulnerable Dash X. If they had more time, the two might have fallen in love. Unfortunately, the series ended before they could unravel the mystery or develop the homoromance, leaving viewers with more questions than answers

After the excellent "things are not what they seem"Pleasantville (1993), the Halloween comedy Hocus Pocus (1993), and a tv movie, Omri Katz moved to Israel, where he appeared occasionally in short films (which sometimes feature nudity), including the gay-themed Journey into Night (2002). He now works as a hairdresser in Los Angeles.

Justin Shenkarow remains an actor and producer with credits in Home Improvement, Picket Fences, W.I.T.C.H., and Aliens in America.

Plains, May 2015

Last night I was on Grindr, trying to coax a skittish Cute Young Thing with blond hair and an enormous Mortadella into coming over. He asked question after question:

"How big is it?"
"What do you want to do?"
"What do you want me to do?"
"Are you hot?"
"How long will it take?"
"Do we have to have chit-chat first?"
"How old are you?"
"How big is it?"
"What do you want to do?"
"What do you want me to do?"
"Do you do this often?"
"What are you into?
"Will anyone else be there?"
"Do you like younger guys?"
"What do you want to do?"
"How big is it?"

I was getting more and more frustrated. Hookups are supposed to be a form of recreation, not arduous chores! But I had put so much time into this guy, I hated to just tell him to forget it.

Then I got buzzed by one of those guys with a blank profile, no name, age, height, weight, or description of interests, just a face and chest. A bear cub: in his 30s, bearded, chubby, hairy.

"I don't have much time, I'm just passing through town, but I'd like to stop by."

I don't invite guys over without getting some background information, including a phone number for insurance, but I was frustrated, and besides, I haven't seen a hairy chest for awhile -- all I seem to meet nowadays are smooth twinks -- so I said "Fine." I gave him the address and the access code for the apartment building, so I could buzz him in.

Less than five minutes later, he was knocking on my door. How did he get here so fast? How did he get into the building without being buzzed in?

He looked like a hobbit from The Lord of the Rings: about 5'3", with dark curly hair, and a short beard.

He was evasive during the pre-bedroom chitchat.

The rest of the story is too explicit for Boomer Beefcake and Bonding. You can read it on Tales of West Hollywood.

Archie Andrews and his pals and gals at Riverdale High have been entertaining kids since 1942, mostly in comics, but there have been scattered tv series, movies, books, and songs ("Sugar, Sugar," by the Archies, hit the top of the pop charts in 1969).

There have even been some serious versions.

The Afterlife with Archie series (2013) brings a zombie apocalypse to Riverdale.

In a 2014 comic, an adult Archie is killed while heroically trying to save his buddy from an assassin's bullet.

The latest angst offering is Riverdale, an upcoming teen drama on the CW Network.

New Zealand actor K. J. Apa has signed on to play Archie Andrews, "an intense, conflicted teen" who is torn between romantic involvements, worried over his career goals, and head-butting with his father (former teen angst star Luke Perry) and football coach.

Former Disney Channel teen Cole Sprouse (left) plays Jughead, a "philosophically bent hearthrob" who has ended a long-term friendship with Archie. A heartthrob? Jughead?

At least they're upping the beefcake opportunities.

Lili Reinhart plays Betty, a wholesome girl-next-door who clashes with her mother (former teen angst start Madchen Amick) and is seduced by the glamour of her new best friend Veronica.

Corey Cott, star of Newsies on Broadway, plays "Openly Gay" Kevin Keller.

I don't know which one he is. I hope they all show up in guest roles.

Camila Mendes plays Veronica, a sophisticated fashion plate recovering from a scandal involving her father.

Ashleigh Murray, Irie Hayleau, and Ashanti Bromfield play Josie and the Pussycats, a pop group that never interacted with Archie in the comics.

Madelaine Petsch plays Cheryl Blossom, a poor little rich girl who recently lost her twin brother in a mysterious accident. The angst thickens.

Former Disney Channel teen Ross Butler (left) plays Reggie, Archie's long-time nemesis.

Daniel Yang plays class brain Dilton Doiley.

Looks like they're adding Asian representation. But they've omitted the only black guy in the comics, aspiring cartoonist Chuck Clayton.

Cody Kearsley plays jock Moose Mason.

Most of the characters are in place, if tweaked a bit to add more drama. But I'm wondering, would anyone notice the difference if we changed their names to Dawson, Joey, Jen, and Pacey, or Dylan, Brandon, Donna, and Kelly?

What makes this series about our Archie, Jughead, Betty, Veronica, Reggie, Moose, and Dilton, the amiable, fun-loving teens that we all grew up with?

See also: Dylan and Cole Sprouse; Luke Perry; Veronica and Betty are Going Steady

The Sacrifice of Isaac

Barbarella: Hetero Sex Comedy or Gay Classic?

October 2000: The Boy Who Refused to Leave My Room

June 1992: We Track Down the Gay Baron of Eindhoven

How to Throw a Real West Hollywood Party

Pudge and Bum, the Bulldog Buddies of Yale University

Tarzan Also-Rans

The Top 10 Hunks of The Cosby Show

May 2016: A Day of Beefcake, Bulges, and Sausage Sightings

March 1985: The Footlong of Bourbon Street

The Boy Who Fought Mutants: Lee H. Montgomery

Lucky Vanous: The Diet Coke Guy

October 1972: The Sausage Sighting Prank at the Funeral Home

In Search of Sex and Languages in South Africa

Frank Gorshin: The Bulging Nemesis of Robin the Boy Wonder

David Macklin: The Boy with Something Extra

Derek the Fitness Model's Date with David Cassidy

Eerie, Indiana: Omri Katz, Paranormal Investigator

A Hookup with a Hobbit

Teen Hunks and Teen Angst in the New Riverdale TV Series