Dance Class Bully

Pam Anderson & Mamie Van Doren


Sophia Loren & Jayne Mansfield

I thought this was fairly clever: Vanity Fair paired Pam Anderson and Mamie Van Doren in a photograph evocative of the famous photo of Sophia Loren and Jayne Mansfield circa 1958 at Romanoff's. Oddly though, I think Mansfield's nipples have been airbrushed out of this print.

It sort of transcends homage, because Mansfield and Van Doren were both Marilyn Monroe clones (there were many others) and Van Doren is the only one who is still alive and kicking.

And I suppose Pam Anderson is sort of the psychic offspring of women like Mansfield, only she has the business acumen that women of that era lacked.

All said, it's amusing because it blurs the lines. I think it would have been more effective to switch them (Van Doren & Anderson) though.

I used to want to be a photographer. I remember reading "Scruples" when I was a boy and thinking that Spider Elliot (I think that was his name) had the coolest job in that he got to photograph beautiful men and women every day.

My father had worked in a photo lab at one time and was always promising to help me set up a dark room some time. It never happened. I used to be really mad at my parents for not urging me on in one of my artistic interests, but I'm not mad any more. They were far too practical to do that. One of the worst things my mother could ever say about somebody was that he was a "dreamer." She would refer to my cousin or some friend or some neighbor's kid as a "dreamer." That meant that he had no plan and was probably a bartender/actor. She really took no prisoners when she was younger. Today she denies she said half the stuff she said.

I remember one night before bed in 3rd or 4th grade she was kissing me goodnight in my bedroom. Every once in a while she would have a serious "talk" with me before bed. Like to tell me my father was sick or my grandmother was moving out or something. Anyway, one night she asked me if I knew what "gay" was. I did not know and she told me something like: "There are some women who love other women and men who love other men and they live together just like men and women and there's nothing wrong with that." I think I said "Oh, O.K.," and went to bed.

Although the next day I told my best friend and I guess we were lucky he did not tell the whole school because my mother probably would have gone to prison or something.

Anyway, to this day my mother has no recall of this event. We have no idea why she told me, I thought maybe she had an inkling about me, but she says that is not it. More likely, my mother hates unfairness and probably read some story in the paper about something that was denied some gay man or woman and had to do her bit for the cause by shaping my young mind.

I've never really given it much thought before, but it must have had an impact on me. It must have been some kind of green light in my subconscious.

I think I knew I was different when I was in 3rd grade, but I did a great job of blending in. Sexual attraction complicated matters but I was never afraid of it. It (the desire) felt too good to be afraid of. I was smart enough to keep it to myself, though. But I think some perceptive boys could smell it.

From 5th to 8th grade I had to take these awful formal dance lessons at a country club in town. It was about 50 kids although it thinnned down to 30 over the years. We had to wear jackets and ties and the girls had to wear white gloves. It was positively antebellum.

Anyway, in 6th grade these two boys from another school began harassing me in class. My parents were always big on "be calm and act like it doesn't bother you and they will tire of it." I swear if I had a kid I would be big on "If it bothers you, hit them. Hard."

They would get into this riff with one another and me and say stuff like "Is that a new watch? Did your boyfriend give it to you?" Or they would ask me to dance (it was dance class) or do the limp-wristed thing and talk with a lisp. I really did a good job of acting perplexed, of looking at them like they were nuts. The funny thing is, I really did not warrant that kind of attention. I was not a particularly fey boy, more a little nerdy at that time. But I was probably the best target available just then. My saving grace was that I always had a lot of friends, though. I think I confused them and they were backing off until this girl got involved. Her name was "M" and she was just like Norma in "Carrie." Really bad and really mean. And she brought out the worst in these guys, too. They began to scare me a bit. Luckily, this class was seasonal and we did not go to the same school.

But in 7th grade we would all be in the same school. Cut to that first week of school and it turns out that one of the boys moved. That left "M" and the other boy, "A." I will never forget "M" seeing me in the hall and getting all worked up and pointing me out to "A." Saying something like "There he is! There he is!" And "A" just looked at me and her and said something like "Forget it M, just drop it."

And that was that. To this day I have no idea what happened to make it stop.

"A" turned out to be just my type. He had thick, dark hair, a trim waist and a big chest and shoulders. I think he was Italian and German. I spilled a lot of cum thinking of him. I still can. Eventually (11th grade) I was friendly with him and more so his girlfriend. He was nice, a little quiet. I later heard a strong rumour that he is gay. I would say it is about 90% accurate. He has skipped all class reunions and such.

"M," the Norma girl, I eventually got to be very good friends with for a brief while. She was 6 feet tall, thin, beautiful, had reddish-blonde hair and green eyes. Like a total fag I was always telling her she should be a model. But she couldn't care less about looks and stuff like that. It's almost Norman Rockwell-esque for me to think back to a time where someone beautiful and in high school did not want to be famous. She was too busy being in pain and just wanted to be happy. She had a father in politics who practically disowned her because she was going out with a black guy and was one of two senior celebrity "Class Partiers." I just saw her recently. I reminded her that she gave me my first Quaalude. But I never brought up 6th grade. I don't think she has any memory of it anyway.

But I bet "A" remembers. I think the ring leader was probably the boy who moved away. I think when "A" no longer had his influence, he got nicer. If I ever run into "A" I am going to ask him all about it.