It was the 1970s, the decade before AIDS hit, when gay men in New York City lost their inhibitions and discovered community on the dance floor and queer sex in the backrooms. Gay liberation was celebrated everywhere, especially after dark from the West Village streetcorners to the underground sex clubs, from the 24/7 bathhouses to the kinky leather bars near the Hudson River. These newly liberated men found queer sex outdoors in the moonlight, in the Ramble in Central Park or the Meat Rack...

The year was 1982. AIDS was still in its infancy. Jim and I were living in New York City in the artist's loft near City Hall. It was the year of our big breakup after nine long monogamous years together. Jim had just given me my first diary for Christmas. I remember that seemed odd. Jim must have known I'd need it. In February I went to Venice solo. Jim left me on the night I returned, for a disco twinkie half his age. That was the beginning of my journey. For four months I went wild, maki...

The ultimate Escape. It's unlike any experience you'll ever have. Ten days onboard the pristine Art Deco ocean liner, the Jolly Roger, in the middle of the picture-postcard Adriatic Sea. That and two hundred of the hottest gay men on the planet; gym bods on the prowl. Captain Brook is in charge, although his trans wife Mrs. J really calls the shots. Miles will be your knowledgeable on-land guide His sweetheart Abbey is onboard along with several very tall drag queens, the love birds Toby a...

It has to be the most exclusive gay resort on the planet-Fire Island Pines. Abbey and I were just a couple of your regular New York City gay guys looking for an escape from Manhattan's oppressive summer heat. But once we sampled the Pines and her butch men, we were hooked. We needed a full share in a comfortable beach house with a pool. Cute considerate housemates would be nice. That first season we did well. After late dinners, we'd all go disco dancing together, shirtless with our brothe...