Lenny

Lenny, age 3
Bellevue, Idaho (1947)

I was known as Little Lenny, the "City Boy" with wild west affiliations combined with an English bloodline. My great grandparents were pioneers to the West and were among the earliest ranchers and silver-mining adventurers in Southern Idaho. I have a little Native American blood, too.

I always felt different deep down. You know what I mean? As a young child I slept outside in the summertime and stared up at the stars, pondering: 

Where does life end? 
How far is infinity? 

Nobody knows everything, but I knew being different was unanswerable even then. I had no choice but to go along with life and take a ride.

From my earliest memories I knew I was not like everyone else. But I didn't know what "gay" actually was back then. 

People mostly liked me, but I do have an older sister who sent me to the emergency room after various baby-sitting "accident" occasions. Truthfully, I would call those homicidal inclinations. 

I still have scars, and I call her "the assassin" to this day. She pretends she doesn't remember any of this because I was an "adorable" child. Yeah, right.

I know that life can be a double challenge for LGBTI people of all nationalities and races. I come from hearty English-American stock and we keep on moving no matter what troubles we encounter. It's the American Way!

I also know that we are everyone's child, sister, brother, co-worker and best friend. Gay people are a part of life and we share our lives with everyone. 

Nothing can change that fact!

I am now 72 years old and an active artist, and I live at the foot of an active volcano in Central America. I have always loved my life, and I still love my life.

And I still stare up at the stars in the heavens and feel inspired by life around me. The life I have been given is the one I deeply enjoy and am grateful to always have had. So for all the young gay kids reading this now, I will tell you: 

IT GETS BETTER! It honestly does.
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Lenny

Lenny, age 10

Chicago, Illinois (1965)

This was shot in our backyard pool on Chicago's South side. My dad was an ex-marine and made me get my hair completely buzzed. I remember feeling inadequate because I was skinny, hairless, and blond. I wanted to be dark and thick - more masculine. My dad must've known I was 'different' because he used to glare at me and bully me all of the time.

All I knew was I wanted to disappear, hide and just 'go away', fearful I'd never develop into a 'man'. This pic makes me a bit sad, because it was the beginning of a long period of self-loathing and shame. But it also makes me proud, because even at 10, I managed to make a little oasis for myself in a horrible spot.

I used to drag our 12-inch black & white TV into the garage late at night and watch dance shows and old movies, fantasizing that I lived alone in my own apt.
I loved watching Shindig, Hullabaloo and anything with Bette Davis.

It was around this time that I caught myself staring at older boy's arms, their eyebrows, and getting excited seeing even a glimpse of leg hair over their socks in Catholic School. I clearly remember doing my best to mask these feelings, paralyzed with fear at the thought of someone finding me out.

Around this time, we had a carpenter (who was a deaf mute) working on our house. I was used to getting the 'suspicious sissy accusatory look' from people, but this guy was different. He was buff and friendly and smiled at me all of the time. He'd work with his shirt off, completely ripped and damp with sweat. I'd offer him lemonade and hand him wood and nails. One time, I came into the kitchen and my mom gave me 'the look', and said, 'Why do you stare at that deaf guy all of the time?' I had been clocked. 

My first memory of gay shame was age 4. While changing into my swim suit at a lake, I walked into the men's changing room and saw rows of naked men for the first time. I ducked into a stall and hid. By age 10, I was fascinated with Anne Francis as TV's Honey West. I tried to get the neighborhood kids to act out the scripts. I remember saying, 'Let's play Honey West. You guys are the spies in the scene, and you tie Honey to a tree. Here's the rope. And I'm Honey.'

Well, they tied me to a tree - then got confused, bored and left. As I was tied up,
I was trying to be like Honey, wiggling and resisting from the restraining rope, and imagined I had huge tits. In the middle of all this writhing, I looked up and saw my mom and my sister watching all of this unfold from our living-room window - with complete looks of revulsion and disgust.

As for my first crushes: James MacArthur, shirtless in Swiss Family Robinson.
I wanted to be trapped on that island with him. Then I saw Rod Taylor in The Time Machine, and I was thunderstruck. But I was confused at the same time, as I was not comfortable watching Paul Lynde or Charles Nelson-Reilly. All of my fantasies involved older, alpha males taking me away.

To young gay kids now? You are ALRIGHT! It's NOT YOU that is wrong or screwed up. Live and enjoy your life, and never think that you have to alter yourself. You are great just the way you are.

Lenny's first, famous-person same sex crush:

James MacArthur (in "Swiss Family Robinson")
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Click here - "Born This Way: Real Stories of Growing Up Gay" book

Click here - "My First Gay Crush Blog"

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