GET OUT OF THE DAMN CLOSET

I led a pretty sheltered life growing up in Marion, OH. In terms of what real life and the real world were like. Growing up in a conservative religious family, we were in the world not of the world. I was in junior high before I had any idea what homosexuality was—I don’t think Gay had come into use yet. I was at the old Carnegie library on Main Street one day. It was a short walk through the alleyway from our house on Vine Street, crossing High and State streets. I didn’t really appreciate the beauty of the building then. It was just a nice old building.

I was either looking through the card catalog or perusing bookshelves in search of something specific. I don’t recall what it was. But I came across a book that caught my eye, for some reason. I scanned the chapter titles and read parts of the book here and there. It may have been a book about adolescent boys. What I remember reading was a paragraph or two about how teenage boys often masturbate with a friend or friends. They might even participate in circle jerks! (I love how Word highlighted circle jerk and let me know that it might be offensive to some of my readers) Other than the body building magazine I’d found and hid in our garage when I was younger, I don’t think I had any particular sexual attraction to other boys or men—I could be wrong on that point. As I was reading this part of the book, I kept thinking I’d missed out on some important part of growing up. I’d never masturbated with any of my friends, let alone a circle jerk. It was the first time I remember seeing the word homosexual used. I had to look it up.

I would often stroll to downtown Marion to the S. S. Kresge or G. C. Murphy’s department stores. Kresge had a lunch counter that served the best tuna salad sandwiches. One of my mother’s friends worked behind the counter. She would see me coming and have the sandwich waiting for me by the time I took a stool at the counter. I was browsing books in Murphy’s one day and got the feeling I was being followed around the store. I looked around and saw a man standing nearby. He smiled at me. It sort of scared me, but I didn’t know why. I left the store and headed home.

As I was walking by the YMCA on Church Street, a car drove by me very slowly, the driver looking my way. I Kept walking to Vine Street, just a block away. I’d made the turn onto Vine when the same car drove slowly by again. As sort of scared as I was, I also felt excited by it. I got home, told mom I was back, then went and sat on the front porch, hoping the car would drive by.

There was something about that incident that excited me. I didn’t equate the excitement with homosexuality. I barely knew what that meant.

Around the same time, I began having erotic dreams. About other boys or men. I became more aware of other boys and their bodies in gym class. I had some fantasies building in my post pubescent mind. And yet, I didn’t think of myself as gay. At least, not until I was in high school.

Mom and dad and I would drive down to Westerville to visit my sister Twyla and her husband, Tom. I would ask if I could take the car to go to Northland Mall. What I really wanted it for was to pay a visit to the shop not far away that specialized in books, magazines, and videos for men of a certain persuasion. It was also a place to have sexual encounters with other guys. There were booths where you could preview porn. Even though it was possible, I don’t recall having any sexual encounters there. I was exploring my sexuality, but don’t think I was brave enough to have sex with another man. Yet.

There was a rest stop not far from Marion, out on Rt. 23. I’d read about men and rest stops somewhere. Or maybe I saw it in a movie. At any rate, I would drive out there at night and hang out in the car, hoping for at least one sexual encounter. I guess I didn’t know what I was doing. It never happened.

Attraction to and dreams about other guys continued and grew stronger, though I tried to repress them and often prayed that God would take them away. This went on into my college years, even though I continued to date women. Knowing what I know now, it should have been a clue that I always dated the prettiest girls on campus.

Rita. Beautiful, blond, I think from West Virginia with a cute accent. We went to movie night on campus one time. It was some horror movie I don’t remember now. Horror enough that we held hands. Not sure if that was more for her or for me.

I hadn’t admitted to myself that I was gay, let alone consider it a possibility. I had to have known it somewhere in my brain, but continued to repress it. Yet, when I began making my plans to move to California to launch into performing, I think part of that was a need to get away from Ohio and discover who I was. I knew that was not going to happen in Marion, Ohio.

Shortly after arriving in Los Angeles, I spent a few days staying at the apartment of the son of friends of my parents while I looked for an apartment. I discovered Jeff was gay the first day I was there. We were just getting to know each other a bit and I asked to use the bathroom. There were framed, artsy photos of naked men displayed on the walls. I came out and Jeff smiled sheepishly and said, “Well, I guess now you know I’m gay.” I told him I was straight, but that it didn’t bother me. He knew differently, I’m sure.

My new apartment was in Hollywood, not far from West Hollywood…gay central, affectionately called WeHo. I hadn’t made any friends yet. I decided to go to my first gay bar. I walked into the Blue Parrot thinking I was going to be the hot newbie. Tall blond, blue eyes, decent body, innocent looking—not that I was vain or anything. Not one single man paid any attention to me. Humbling experience, that.

I know I eventually met men, probably at the bars. I know I had sex with them. I knew very little about man to man sex, except that I knew what I wouldn’t do. The only one who sticks out in my mind was Don. It’s not the sex with him that sticks him there. He lived in a storefront property he’d renovated into an apartment. No walls separating rooms, just one big open space with living areas delineated by the furnishings and appliances. I thought that was really cool.