boy culture

The Lost Boy

Icy hot.

Ex-child actor (at left) and noteworthy figure skater Christopher Bowman ("Bowman the Showman") was found dead last week in a motel, with speculation rampant that his long-documented drug abuse may have led to an O.D. Now, it's being reported that there is no immediately apparent cause for his death at age 40—more tests will take six to eight weeks. Shockingly, the athlete had degenerated a lot physically, winding up his life at 261 pounds (also at left).

It's interesting and sad and ironic considering his life's work was not only dependent on physical prowess as a matter of practicality, but was enhanced by his over-the-top exultation in his body, in what it could do. That's what can be mesmerizing about figure skating (or suggestive dancing or hot YouTube videos)—that very human desire to show it if you've got it, to express glee and satisfaction with a body that is in peak form.

Beauty is fleeting and magical and even though I am against using the beauty of others to eat yourself up inside, I'm also against the idea that beauty is merely skin deep—sure, some beauties are not great people inside (no idea if he was or was not), but the simple miracle of that beauty is worth drinking in.

He was, by all accounts, a quirky showboat.

I wasn't a fan and didn't know much about him except that he enjoyed a small part in one of my favorite '80s movies, Joel Schumacher's (gay) vampire flick The Lost Boys, but that before-and-after aspect caught my attention; I am similarly too fascinated by seeing people age and seeing areas transform. It's all about change, but change is not always good except, of course, in politics—where pretty much every candidate swears to be its most gifted agent.

Many more sexy shots of Bowman after the triple Lutz jump.

Russian Dressing

I have no words except to say: This is (intentionally) hilarious and I loved watching it.

In Health

Total fitness is a Grind.

I only buy Men's Health when the coverguy is irresistible, and February 2008's Mike Vogel qualifies. He's supersexy on the cover, much more so now that he's a dirty blond instead of the towhead he was in movies like The Sisterhood Of The Traveling Pants (in which his spread-legged beach scene threatened to expose whether the curtains matched the drapes anyway). I once met him when he, Jennifer Morrison (also now famous, for House) and Joey Kern dropped by my office to promote their 2003 movie Grind. (Even then, co-star Adam Brody sensed he was about to become hot with The O.C., so he skipped.) Seeing Joey as a coverguy is a nice feeling, though losing my gut—as this issue promises I can—would feel that much better.

Fleshback: Brotherhood of the traveling pants.

Inside, the story begins, "Mike Vogel is having a hard time sitting down," and goes on to observe him "stealing a second chair pad and slipping it under his butt." It turns out to be thanks to his atypical work-out routine, made up of whatever activity is at hand, with cardio a last resort:

The issue also turns over several pages to "Men's Health's most photographed cover guy," Gregg Avedon, for his surefire fat-burning diet. It sounds great if someone could prepare avocado toast and stuffed peppers for me while simultaneously keeping me at arm's length from any random holiday candy that may be sitting around:

He's cooking.

There's a style feature on investing in a new wardrobe if you get a raise, with three sexy Daniel Sunjata shot-as:

Finally, I laughed at "Seven Movies That Will Turn You Both On." The choices are seemingly sensible: Secretary, Sex And Lucia, Black Snake Moan, The Notorious Bettie Page, The Unbearable Lightness Of Being, Y Tu Mama Tambien (gay, cough) and Don't Look Now. But the illustration of a man piggybacking his babe made me think of an eighth idea: Crumb. (If you don't get why that's funny, Netflix the documentary Crumb...stat! It's one hell of a ride.)

On our backs.

Strapping Jock

DNA Online has outtakes from Ian Roberts's Advocate cover shoot by photographer Eric Schwabel, some of which leave nothing to the imagination. But the imagination is so overrated, so hit DNA Online to see the nude I've reproduced here tiny and grainy only for reference.

Take Off, Eh

UPDATE: In response to my original post, a lawyer for Mr. Tlusty has demanded that I remove the images. The letter I received argued copyright infringement and interference with his ability to earn a living. I find the argument regarding copyright to make a lot of sense—he obviously took them. Copyright is so unevenly asserted on the 'Net, many people think everything is free, and that "in public" means "in the public domain."

Were it a matter of great importance to me—which it is not—I would probably argue that at this point, the images are a news story and could easily be seen to exist under the fair-use umbrella. I would also argue that any possible damage to his "ability to earn a livelihood" was of his own doing.

I happen to think it's ridiculous that anyone should lose his job due to this kind of harmless, widespread conduct.

I will say one aspect of the legal letter is untenable—removing any commentary on the photos. These photos have been seen by everyone and their Canadian brother and newspapers have commented on them extensively. Everyone has an opinion and is free to state it. I don't have much to say about them, really, except "wow, he's cute." If he wants to sue for that, he'll lose—just gimme one sighted person on that jury!

All that said, lots of luck to the Maple Leaf, whose initial response was so European and laid-back, but who is now discovering that the powers that be would rather keep him in Czech.