The TV Moment That Made Me Gay
In the 1960s, I was addicted to watching tall, lithe Ron Ely as Tarzan, wearing a pulse-quickening loincloith as he swung around the place on various vines.
The line of hair under Ron's navel was possibly the most important stretch of geography of my entire pubescence.
In fact, as I've written, I remember thinking, "You Tarzan. Me gay."
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