May 1994, the ex, my bff Doug and myself jetted off on a 2 week adventure in Turkey. We began in the port of Marmaris, where we boarded our chartered gulet, with a 2 man crew, for 7 days of sailing pristine blue waters, east to the Lycean tombs of Fethiye, west to Rhodes, stopping along the way at deserted islands, viewing ancient ruins, eating like princes and swimming the chilly Mediterranean.
“No Gay People in Cambodia” 2006 – I’ve had the great privilege to work from age 26 to 70 educating people around the world with the truth on lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender people’s personal and professional awakenings, challenges, and strengths.
Ray would travel with me when the Investment Banks brought me to their offices in Europe and Asia. This photo was taken in Jaipur, shortly after I spoke in Mumbai.
I’ve described how, in 1976, I met Willie Wilson, who introduced me to the passionate joy of infatuation between men. While visiting DC and in need of a one-night stand, he ran into me, a “near-virgin” at 23, at the Pier 9 disco, and came home with me. While pondering the failing three-way relationship he’d been in for 18 months in California, he stuck around for 2 weeks, long enough to rock my world.
1981-2017: If I had to select one photo from my archives which personifies the devastation wrought upon my generation by the AIDS epidemic, it would have to be this one: a group of handsome and fit gay men in their late 20’s, smiling while posing on a beach (July / August 1981, as the discovery of AIDS was being announced). Iconic, yet, also a parable for innocence about to be destroyed.
May 1983: From the moment the discovery of a “gay cancer” (GRID, or “gay-related immune deficiency”, later renamed AIDS) was announced in July 1981 right up through the mid-1990s (when protease inhibitors were developed, making the disease largely manageable), living as an active gay man in metropolitan NYC (and anywhere not removed from the possibility of sexual interaction with other men) was fraught with fear.
OCTOBER 1979: Shortly after I returned to Manhattan from my cross-country road trip spent trying to find my “gay self,” Bo, the guy I had been seeing in San Diego, and three of his friends (two of whom I’d also slept with) came to NYC for the Mr. Blueboy Contest (Blueboy was a Playgirl-like magazine with stories and male nudity that was popular then.). One of the San Diego crew was representing that city in the nationwide contest and was put up in a nice hotel in midtown Manhattan. The others stayed with me.