Charlie

When I was young, every gay bar in NYC had "Non, je ne regrette rien" on the jukebox.

"Homesteading"?

I used to enjoy that program.

Talk about a "blast from the past"--I had no idea he was still active.

I assume you would only discreetly hold hands.

Strange inconsistencies: e.g., text says 8 years massage experience, but stats say ten years; claims to have lived in Philadelphia since college (which looks like it was many years ago!), but none of the quoted testimonials are from guys in Philly--in testimonials, those from other cities usually say "in-studio" (the ones that say "mobile" are from smaller places). Says "gay friendly," but no indication what that might mean.

But there is a ferry from there to Fire Island.

Sounds suspiciously experienced for a 23 year old straight guy. He mentions things I hadn't even thought of when I was a 23 year old experienced gay gay.

Do you want a date to go to dinner and the opera, or to a bar and an orgy?

The Sears in Hackensack, NJ, (mentioned above) was the one that I referenced in my earlier post, within walking distance of my grandparents' apartment. It was in the same mall with Packard Bamberger, the WalMart grocery supermarket of it's day.

Looks like a recruit for the college football team.

James I (he was also JamesVI of Scotland) was the son of Mary Queen of Scots, and he was notorious for his fondness for pretty young men: George Villiers was not his first favorite to be showered with titles and wealth. However, he was not just a pretty face--he eventually became Duke of Buckingham, and one of the most important figures in early 17th century European politics. He also became a close confederate of James's son, Charles I, who didn't mind his relationship with Charles's father; George was murdered just before his 36th birthday, while on his way to a military mission for Charles in France. As the young Duke of Buckingham, George acquired land in Buckinghamshire, where he built a huge country house called Cliveden. At one point much of the original house was burned down and then rebuilt. Over the years it passed through many owners, including other noblemen, even the Prince of Wales, and the American millionaire William Astor, who passed it on to his son and his wife, the famed British political figure Nancy Astor, before it was finally acquired by the National Trust. In the 1970s, it was used by Stanford University as their international residential campus. A close friend of mine was teaching there at the time, and I went to visit him there for a few days. I was given Nancy Astor's bedroom for my stay. True to tradition, my gay friend had a favorite pupil, who was a very pretty boy indeed. It is now a hotel, and if you want to lay out a lot of money for a room in the country for the night, you can make your own connection to George Villiers.

Most of his weight seems to be hanging between his legs--the rest of the body looks like skin and bones.

"Style: Daddy" ??

The other places are pretty to look at, but if you intend to stay any length of time, Bergen and Oslo are more interesting. I know nothing about the gay scene, because I was only in Norway once, more than 30 years ago, on a tour with my elderly mother. The opera house in Oslo was the only place I have ever seen a production with singers singing in different languages : Aida sung in Norwegian by everyone except the lead, a visiting Russian artist who sang her role in Italian.

I know that it is usually referred to as a "supplement" rather than a medication, but if I get it from a pharmacy with a doctor's prescription, I don't really see much difference. The doctor never thought I needed it until the sexual activity question came up, and he thought my lack of interest was a "problem" (I thought it was kind of a relief).

Yeah, those were the doctor's arguments for testosterone, too, but I don't like to take more medications than I actually need (and he never suggested it until he inquired after my level of sexual activity and learned that there was none).

When my doctor first learned that I had no interest in being sexually active any longer (he's gay, by the way), he recommended testosterone treatment, but I declined. Why stimulate me to want something that probably would be too much trouble to get anyway?

My serious desire for sex lasted into my late 60s. After that, I lost interest in doing it with anyone. I think that a lot of what excited me sexually was the belief that the other guy was excited about doing it with me, even if I was paying him for it. By my late 60s, I could no longer fool myself into believing that the sexual attraction was mutual. I honestly don't miss sexual activity--I get more physical and emotional satisfaction from a good game of tennis. That doesn't mean that I don't still appreciate looking at attractive men--I just can't fantasize myself doing anything with them.

I remember a hotel in Amsterdam near the train station that had rooms with various kinds of equipment available, but I've never heard of any such place in an American city.

Amsterdam or Berlin.

It is no longer called World Gym--the new name is Steel Gym. I haven't been there in a long time, but when I was a member, it was not like a gay bath-house, because there were plenty of straight members.

The mark on my upper arm from my childhood smallpox vaccination is still barely visible.

Looks more like a princeling.

These would be great photos even without centers of attraction.