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Seminal moments in our lives often come at the most inexplicable times, and in situations that seem otherwise fleeting and meaningless. One such incident took place during a rather sadly routine visit to a well-known West Hollywood cruising area; in the gay world, there are certain locals which are known by other gay men as ripe targets for picking up other gay men for quick sex – usually taking the anonymous couples down nearby dark alleyways or into parked cars for nameless trysts. One such night, I went cruising through the parking lot next to an adult bookstore right off of Santa Monica Blvd. Darting in between the shadows, I could see the formless shapes of various men – faces and figures were difficult or impossible to make-out. For a while, I stood back, nearer the cross street and the glow of the lights. Several older men approached me, but I enjoyed refusing their advances; their compliments, and their money. The rush of power from rejecting them – was the greatest elixir. Then, I noticed someone whom I thought I knew, but it couldn’t be; less than a year before I had met my idol when I once tagged along with a friend of mine who had broken into the more illustrious world of LA gay porn; as for myself, all my endeavors in Hollywood had always come to naught, and, I was perpetually relegated to an occasional appearance in a fetish film shot inside some creepy San Francisco apartment house or hotel room. At first, from a distance, that evening in the crowded nightclub, I admired the source of my wonderment – the reigning king of gay porn: Joey Stefano. Later on, that same night, I got to chat with him and finally fulfilled a dream. Yet, that meeting, in hindsight, was far from elevating. While I still had stars in my eyes, Joey had seen just how famous a gay kid could become and just how far a porn star could go – and, he was left profoundly unsatisfied. I was bemused.
Back on the street; there he was again. But, what was Joey Stefano doing in this parking lot? The wealthiest closeted gay power-brokers in Hollywood would pay to be with him; why was he here? In a way, I was embarrassed for him – I didn’t want to approach him, but I had to. He didn’t remember me; I wasn’t hurt or surprised. While I was stone cold-sober, faceless perversity was my drug; he seemed to be swimming through some invisible haze. For myself, it was the thrill of the hunt and the chase, Joey – well, he was already wasted and through with running. Later on, I thought about it; during that particular time period, I was absurdly obsessed with Marilyn Monroe – I read almost every trashy biography about her. In several, it was mentioned that, towards the end of her life, she became incredibly promiscuous: picking up strangers – from the cabbies who drove her around to the construction workers remodeling her new home. The most desirable woman on earth could be yours for the asking. This got me thinking about Joey, because in the early-1990s – he was the gay male version. In my eyes – he had it all: fame, money, a cadre of adoring fans, and a place of admiration within the gay community. Whatever ghosts that had haunted his childhood – he had overcome them. Or, had he?
In the gay world, there are many avenues of seeming salvation: acceptance on a level that no little excluded sissy boy ever experienced in his over-bullied life; the liberty to express all of those shame-filled inner feelings of emotions that you spent years trying to deny and suppress; and, the men who will be your surrogate father – they will even let you call them “daddy” during sex. Once you have it all – everything will be okay. Right? Only, it isn’t. You are still you; the pains of an angry childhood are still the same, and, the free expression, the comradery, and the sex somehow leave you feeling empty; you still want more – only, you don’t know exactly what you need. Then, after finding the perfect lover, friend, husband – you end up back in the same X-rated video stores, the same public toilets, the same cruising spots: looking for the something you missed. You can’t find it. You spend your life chasing a phantom – then, the dead only die lonely. About a year later, Joey left this existence searching for one last instant of mind numbing black-out – dying HIV+ of a drug overdose in a seedy Hollywood motel.