I was that rarity, an only child born to an Italian American family in Brooklyn. Practically from birth, I retreated into a wall of shyness. I knew I was different—more sensitive, let’s say—than most of the kids in the neighborhood, but I wasn’t sure just what that meant.
In 1964, my cousin introduced me to the music of Diana Ross and the Supremes, the glittery, arm-gesturing Motown girl group, and that was transformative. It also gave me something to bond with another male over. But that wasn’t sexual. That came later, in 1966, when a loin-clothed hottie named Ron Ely hit the small screen as Tarzan. That’s when I knew I was gay, because I couldn’t wait to watch the show every week. And when Diana Ross and the Supremes were guest stars on it, I was in gay heaven!
Despite these coded diversions, I never knew if there was a future for me as a gay man. There were no out role models and precious little positive information at the time. In fact, homosexuality was considered a disorder! But I hung in there and eventually moved across the bridge to Manhattan, where I found a thriving, creative community that I still belong to. Today, I’m the gayest person on Earth. And I still know every last one of those Supremes’ arm gestures.