MISTY WATER COLORED MEMORIES OF... PLAYGIRL
The news last month that Playgirl was going to cease print publication got me thinking how much influence that magazine had on my budding teen (homo)sexuality back in the day. I suspect it was the same for a lot of other gay men as well. Young gay guys probably can't quite appreciate how much things have changed since then. When I was a teenager, there were no gay websites I could surreptitiously visit while trying to figure out why I didn't react to girls the way I was "supposed" to. There were no gay sitcoms, no Forbidden Love or As the World Turns clips.

All we had was Jodie (Billy Crystal) on Soap, Steven Carrington (Al Corley/Jack Coleman) on Dynasty, and Jim Palmer posing in his Jockey underwear. And trust me, Jim is no David Beckham.

Jim Palmer, Jack Coleman

Which is why the first time I got my hands on a copy of Playgirl was a moment that rocked my world and not just because I could see naked men. It had much more to do with tying sexual feelings to a clearly defined external source as opposed to just wanting to hang around the cute guy at school.

Ironically, it came on a family vacation in 1977 as we toured my home state of Colorado in our VW camper van. We'd stopped at a small mountain town convenience store and as I wandered the aisles, I came across the magazine section which included Playgirl. How I ever got up the nerve to pickup the magazine flip through it, I still don't know. But when I saw Paul Vonderlin lounging around a swimming pool completely naked, it was as if a jolt of electricity shot through me, a switch was flipped, the lightbulb went off over my head, and every other hoary cliche you can think of all happened at the same time.

Paul Vonderlin

Granted (a) it was something mighty powerful that I wanted more of and (b) it was something no one in my family could ever know about.

Over the ensuing years I got my hands on various issues of the magazine, including one unwittingly brought home by my mother to give to my grandmother as a joke. My mom casually tossed it on the coffee table not imagining for a moment that there was anyone else in the house who might possibly be interested in the magazine (I only had one very straight brother). But I must have furtively flipped through that thing a hundred times before she gave it to my grandmother. And somehow I never got caught once — if us gay boys are good at anything, it's keeping our secrets.

And I even credit Playgirl with (sort of) finally getting me to come out. Actually, it was Brian Buzzini who helped push me out, or more precisely my lust for him. Brian was Playgirl's "Man of the Year" in 1986 although I didn't actually see the issue until 1990 when I fell head over heels in lust with him.

Now I knew there was precious little chance of my ever dating Brian (he married and had at least one kid), but I knew that as long as I refused to admit I was gay, I would never even have the chance to date someone like him. So I finally came out.

Brian Buzzini

What's most ironic/sad looking at this from 2008 is how utterly innocent the Playgirl of then seems now. Given how awash in porn the internet is, not to mention sites like Manhunt, figuring out one's sexuality via the naked dudes of Playgirl seems almost quaint. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing.

Indeed, I worry about all the things a thirteen-year-old gay teen boy can see online and wonder how that might be shaping their sexuality. Then there is the whole issue of the hook-up culture. True, there were awful things about my era, and no doubt most of the time, I'd rather swap my teen gay experience for what is available today, but there are definitely downsides.

So here is to the men of Playgirl who gave me a sexual outlet when there wasn't a better one to be found.

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