Charlie

I don't know what your experience is with "folks in Youngstown," but the gay men I have known from Youngstown didn't have their first sexual experiences until after they had left in their 20s.

The idea of getting fucked always seemed exciting. The actuality usually felt like work.

One of the things one has to remember when one sees all the photos in this thread of men in the military is that they were usually taken by their comrades or in a studio. Before the 1960s, it was rare for gay romantic relationships to be publicly acknowledged. The couples in the photos are usually mugging for the camera, in photos that were intended to be sent to the folks back home, especially their wives and girlfriends, to reassure their families that they are so happily involved with their "mates" that they are not engaging in relationships with strange women. Military mail was often censored, and if the censors thought these were photos of actual homosexual relationships, the men would have been in serious trouble.

Given their probable ages, it could also be an older and younger brother.

Funny thing: I remember my parents' generation making the same kind of complaints ("They think they can learn everything important just by watching television!") about my generation--sixty years ago.

Unfortunately. our society pushes the message that romantic love automatically produces satisfying sex. Our sexual interests, however, usually long precede our romantic entanglements, and are hardwired in ways that don't necessarily coincide with those of our romantic partners. It's great when one falls in love with someone whose sexual desires complement his own, but I wonder how often that really happens. I suspect that most successful marriages include sexual compromises, spoken or unspoken. However, you can't force even someone who loves you to react the way you would like him to when it comes to sexual turn-ons or turn-offs. The best you can do is try to explain what turns each of you on or off (explaining the why is more difficult, perhaps even impossible to explain understandably). Perhaps a trained counselor could help you. As I have mentioned here before, my partner and I were sexually attracted to one another (we decided to become partners after only one night together), but we were also incompatible in some ways, and we both were already fairly sexually experienced when we met. Sex was never the sole or even primary bond between us, so we consciously worked out the compromises early on, and luckily they satisfied both of us. No. 1 in liubit's compromise above was the most critical agreement for both of us. Over the years, each of us had plenty of enjoyable sex with other people, and less and less with one another, until we both reached an age when we weren't really interested in having sex with anyone. We never felt that an exciting sex life with one another was critical for our relationship--we felt that sex should be fun, not something that we had to work at, like our different attitudes toward money.

Looks like a very young Marlon Brando.

My first sex in a car was in a Pontiac of that vintage.

I went to several of these museums when I lived in NYC, but the one I liked most was the one that actually showed me my own history: the Tenement Museum. My great-grandparents lived in a tenement in the same neighborhood on the Lower East Side.

I regularly go to the bank and get a supply of $5 and $10 bills, because it is the most reasonable way to pay my dog-walker (the daughter of one of my neighbors), who walks my dog while I am playing tennis. She charges $10 per walk, but I often don't know what my schedule will be until the day before the match, so I leave the bill for her in an envelope on my hall table (she has a key to my house, so she can pick up and return the dog). There are also many times when I give a small tip to someone for providing some kind of service, and I can't imagine handing the person (for example, a worker at the car wash) a credit card or a check. I have entered the 21st century enough to pay a lot of my regular bills directly from my bank account online, but I can't imagine never having cash on hand when I need it. I don't go as far as my late partner, who never left the house without a bunch of coins in his pants or jacket pocket.

I skimmed the list too quickly--of course, I knew Nikola Tesla (not personally, however). I guess I was focused on looking for my grandfather, whose birthday was on Jan. 7.

I am amazed that I didn't know anyone in the "famous birthdays" or "famous deaths."

Zero for me.

This talk about him being a "professional" doesn't sound relevant to me. For most of the guys who advertise as available for paid sex, it is not as though they are trained or licensed for sexual activity; if they were, they would be using their own names and proud of their credentials.. In fact, there are many advertisers who are doing this only occasionally as a sidelight, not as their "profession." The guy whom the poster is hot for might very well be uncomfortable and embarrassed to be recognized by someone he knows, and that would almost certainly affect his performance.

No, but I did discover that someone I worked with years ago in another city was a regular client.

So many of these guys favor destinations with phallic symbols in the back: towers, skyscrapers, trees, pointed peaks, etc.

2021? How do they know they didn't die of COVID instead?🤔

I can't claim any intimate knowledge of the Tampa area, but I have old friends, a gay couple, who have lived for many years in Palm Harbor and have been very happy there. Another old female friend, who is very gay-friendly (she took care of her gay brother when he was dying of AIDS, and later took care of his boyfriend when he was dying), has lived in Brandon for twenty years and is very comfortable there.

I think you are correct. RIP.

I sense an interesting storyline here (there are obviously two nude guys riding bikes).

Interesting to know. I love both pickles and sauerkraut, but always ate them in moderation because I thought they were a cause of my stomach problems.

"Need a helping hand?"

Now that's vintage. (I don't remember the moniker of the "boy" sitting and watching, but he is probably bald and/or gray by now.)

BTW, although I had sex partners until I was in my 70s, when all of them were younger than I was, no one ever called me "Daddy"--at least, not to my face.

When I was young and gay, to me a "daddy" simply meant someone who was at least thirty years old than I was and bigger than I was, and who expected to be in charge of whatever we did together. That was okay with me in an initial sexual experience, but I didn't want an ongoing relationship with that dynamic.