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<--- Bay Area Reporter Obit
I saw him first, (as a porn star) in a magazine. Then some porno vids (My fave of him: California Blue), his cock, his sexy manner. I saw him lust and live in it, it seemed. Acts of beauty and joy made larger by their pass thru him. He was a changeling. One who modifies experience, and leaves the lingering odor of sex, and novelty.
I got a letter and a naked snapshot from South Florida in response to an ad I had in a gay mag. Before Fame (I'll post it when I find it).
I saw him first in person at NY Jacks, 1994 Gay Pride Jackoff Event. He was seated on a couch watching obliquely, the cocks of the men watching him. All of us jacking our dicks. I was wearing my rings. I sat on the other end of the couch. He smiled. He woofed. We all jacked. After as much extension as I could stand, and no one else shooting, I shot a load, loud and arching. Later, I told him I liked what he was doing with Steam. He said "Thanks" with another boyish smile.
I saw him again at Tuesday Sucks, here in SF, January 1998. He was in the Hot Tub. I got in. He saw my cock & rings, my tattoos: Cock portrait on my arm and sperms on my leg. He smiled. He stared. He thought. He smiled more. He didn't share his thoughts. He left, that big soft uncut meatube dangling wet and fleshy as he pulled his softer, still-hot body out of the soup.
His gifts:
In his passing, I feel I own part of him now more than was possible before. The part we had in common. The desire to show it. The desire to publish and be heard: our sexuality, and sense of what is individually right for each of us. That which makes us hard and gets us off. Yay Scott. You did good.