Flashback: Beefcake Island

If there could be a crappy TV show called Fantasy Island, why couldn't there have been Beefcake Island? It could have been on from 1951 to about now, featuring lovely plot lines, beautiful sets, and incredible performances.

By which I mean the camera would follow each model as he woke up (from his random sleazy motel room, West Hollywood apartment, dorm room, or back seat of his car) and made his way to the set.

Once on the set, he'd be greeted by an oiler, a fluffer, a hairstylist, and a makeup artist (or in some cases, none of those things) and then he would pose under hot lights, crafting beefcake from thin air.

Then the cameras would follow him as he got his $47 and bought shoes or a comb or Jack Daniels with it. Or paid for another month at a gym. Or donated to Beefcake Buddies (an early charity for out of luck beefcake models).

But all we got for long running, early TV shows was Meet the Press, Gunsmoke, Bonanza, and What's My Line? And the closest What's My Line? got to beefcake was Yves St. Laurent.

Of course, we did have non-nude beefcake in lots of shows, such as Michael Landon's obvious bulge on Bonanza. So it's always been there, an undercurrent. But ultimately, it's just so strange that something people are commonly drawn to couldn't openly be presented as mainstream entertainment.

Which all adds up to that guy at the bottom right above, with the massive penis and terrifying hair, should be an Emmy winner. But he just went back to work as a truck driver or nuclear physicist or whatever, putting his penis away from those hot lights under the tragedy of a zipper. What has this world come to?

Now thankfully, because of that repression, the world of porn exists, and some have crossed over, but stardom has eluded Mr. Giant Dick Ugly Hair. Let us all mourn for him (as we masturbate).

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