This memory still brings back fear and melancholy, like a ghost story that stubbornly haunts me after all these years…
Over and over, footage of Rock Hudson standing next to Doris Day was playing on television, and he looked ghastly. His skin was wrinkled and sunken as if by very old age. It was 1985, and it was one of the last close-up images most of us would ever see of the movie icon. And it was terrifying.
My heart was pounding, and I tried to listen to the voice-over, which spoke of the sudden illness of Rock Hudson and speculation that he might have AIDS. Throughout the newscast, memories of a night in 1982, nearly three years earlier, sprang to life. The images taunted me and screamed at me and said gonna getcha gonna getcha gonna getcha …
Charley and I had recently moved to Los Angeles and the city still held such mystery and promise for us. We were excited about spending our anniversary at the gay restaurant New York Company, where you got a candle on your table and mushrooms on your prime rib and they would probably sing to us or bring a special piece of cake.
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No sooner had we settled at our table and ordered drinks than Charley started nudging my arm and staring at something behind me. I glanced in that direction, and was stunned to find Rock Hudson seated there, talking with another man.
In our short time in Los Angeles, I had developed the attitude that famous people deserved their privacy and one shouldn’t ogle them. I thought it was cool not to care they were there, even though I was dying to look. In any case, Charley was staring across our table in a gay restaurant directly at Rock Hudson and I wanted him to stop right this minute.
I was definitely jealous, not only of being upstaged by a movie star at my anniversary dinner, but because I wanted to look at him so badly myself, and Charley had the perfect view. So I pestered poor Charley for the next ten minutes about how rude he was and how I couldn’t believe he found the man so fascinating and why couldn’t he pay attention to me on this special night and all sorts of other such lies.
“You men having any fun?”
There was no mistaking the voice, and I looked up from my pouting stance to Charley, who was grinning across our table at the man behind me. “Sure,” Charley managed to say. I turned around and Rock Hudson was smiling at me. I was a star struck boy and there was no hiding it now.
“Yeah, me too,” I said. How completely embarrassing.
“You sure?” he asked, “Because my friend and I were just discussing it, and I was saying that the two of you were having a fight.”
Rock Hudson was discussing me. Rock Hudson was discussing me.
“Uh no, not at all,” I lied, jumping in before Charley had a chance to say what a bitch I was and how I thought you shouldn’t ogle movie stars. “I think we’re just kinda tired. As a matter of fact, today is our anniversary and we’re celebrating.”
“Yeah,” said Charley, “we’re doing fine. How are you tonight?” He was playing along, had forgiven me, and was asking Rock Hudson a question. This was unbelievable.
“It’s really wonderful that you two are having an anniversary. How long have you been together?”
“Three years,” we said in unison.
“That’s just great. Congratulations.” At this point he introduced his friend, who went “way back” and who’s name I couldn’t tell you in a million years, and then he offered an invitation. “Come sit with us, boys. Have a drink. It’s a special occasion.”
I looked at Charley, holding on to my “protect their privacy” stance for a few more seconds, but he had already risen to join them. What the hell. Like I would have refused. I took my spot beside Rock Hudson because I would have broken Charley’s arm if he had tried that seat and he knew it. Another round of drinks appeared, and the star launched into clever stories that I don’t quite remember but were more than fascinating at the time.
The conversation wandered onto Trivial Pursuit, the game which was then new and all the rage.
“Yes, I’ve heard of that,” Rock said. “I haven’t played it yet.”
“We’ve got the game, Rock,” Charley said. “You should really come over some time and we’ll play it with you.” I couldn’t believe what he was saying. He actually called Mr. Rock Hudson “Rock.” Furthermore, my partner had just invited this man “over some time,” like that was really in the realm of possibility.
More drinks arrived. This man can drink like a cow, I thought, and not even show it. He was playful, though, and shot a few looks my way that I would have taken quite differently if it weren’t clear I was celebrating my anniversary with the man to my immediate left.
trivial pursuit piece“It’s a great game,” I found myself saying. “You wanna come over and play it with us?” I was a teensy bit smashed, no doubt about it.
“Yes, I would.”
I’m sure there was more to it, more of a rationale as to why he felt comfortable crashing our anniversary evening, but I don’t remember. His friend kindly begged off of the event, and it was decided that Charley would take his friend home while I rode with Rock so he had no problem finding our apartment. I still will never believe he parked his classy import on Edgewood Avenue, because it made me nervous parking my car there. Once inside, I found a full bottle of Scotch, poured him a drink, and gave him a tour of our tiny apartment until Charley got back.
I was no fool. What we had here was a prescription for something… unseemly. But I was barreling through these bizarre circumstances and wasn’t weighing the specific possibilities. That’s a lie. I was pursuing it because I suspected what was to come.
We played the game for a couple of hours, Rock winning and drinking. Before it was over the Scotch would be history and I would offer to roll a joint. “Pot makes me horny,” he said, “so I don’t know if I should–” and of course I was passing him the joint faster than you could say Star Fucker.
He talked about movies. And sex. And people he loved and hated. The juiciest tales began with “I was really drunk one night when” and the meanest had to do with people he thought had treated him badly professionally (“You need Julie Andrews like you need a knife in your back,” said he).
Charley had taken it all in, but knew when enough was enough. He excused himself quite late to go to bed, Rock offered to go, I wouldn’t hear of it, and we continued sitting in the dining room passing the joint.
I knew what was being played out. Questions floated about in the back balcony of my head, just within earshot. What kind of guy was I? Was I going to have sex with this man right here in the living room? What about my anniversary? What about the man I loved asleep in the bedroom? Was Rock Hudson as well hung as everyone said? Some questions got my attention more than others.
Rock made motions for the umpteenth time that it was time to go home, so while he whispered another insincere goodnight, I drunkenly opened the pants of Mr. Rock Hudson. The fact that this was a famous escapade had overruled the anniversary etiquette issues.
Thirty minutes or so later, I stood in my robe outside the bathroom, wondering what Rock Hudson thought about the rust stained bathtub in which he was quickly showering. The sex had been in near dark, and without the pretext of romance — no tender caresses or meaningful glances.
older rockI can remember only one direct look from the man. I stared down upon his face after the exhaustion of labored sex — too much bourbon, too much pot — and my eyes tried adjusting to his face in the dark. And then there it was, staring back at me, with a surprisingly impatient look. Stern and almost elderly.
“Are you done?” he asked blankly.
Well, life ain’t the damned movies, I suppose.
I would make small talk with him as he toweled dry and dressed, and then me, in a final act of staking my claim, asking for his autograph. Yes, so help me, I asked the damp, drunk and spent star to scribble “All my best, Rock Hudson” on a piece of notebook paper before his hasty exit down the duplex stairs and out to the dingy street below.
I watched the car pull away and walked slowly back to the bedroom, where Charley was sound asleep and snoring. I laid down in the dark and the night replayed in my mind. Was I triumphant? Excited, thrilled, guilty? I had just bedded the ultimate male screen icon of a generation, and I hadn’t the slightest idea how to feel about it.
Rock Hudson was now a ghastly figure on a television screen in my living room. My heart raced every time the evening news began and some new tidbit of information about his disease, his sex life, his kiss with Linda Evans on “Dynasty,” his lovers and his drug treatments were reported with morbid tones and oh-my-God urgency.
I had not yet been tested for HIV. In 1985, what was the point? There were no known effective treatments, the first drug treatment, AZT, was just being introduced and people with AIDS were dropping like flies. It was politically incorrect to get tested because it could lead to discrimination, brand you as terminal and assure you that every pathetic image of a dying AIDS patient applied directly to you.
And that is exactly what the Rock Hudson coverage was doing to me, test or no test. Magazines and Dan Rather news stories were talking to me specifically. ROCK HUDSON HAS AIDS, the headlines screamed, AND MARK KING WILL DIE AS WELL.
“Rock Hudson is now resting in his Los Angeles home beyond a doctors care,” reported Mary Hart on Entertainment Tonight, “and Mark, you’re an idiot if you think you can escape this now. You’re dead as a door nail, buddy. What were you thinking?”
I would stare at the coverage without a word, and nod my head at parties when someone said how tragic it was and excuse myself.
My parents had been told the censored version of the anniversary night story that very next day, and called me in Los Angeles shortly after Rock was reported ill. “Why not go down to the hospital?” my father asked. “You could try to cheer him up, maybe bring Trivial Pursuit!” I explained the man had a million fans and wouldn’t remember me, without mentioning how trivial the pursuit had been.
In October of 1985, Rock Hudson died in his home. News reports tortured me for months to come.
[This essay was first published on My Fabulous Disease and is edited from A Place Like This, by Mark S. King. Copyright 2008.]
Dale Landefeld
and just a few years before, he was at a party, and we just stared at this handsome icon.
Phoenix Lopez Harman
What a handsome man!
ingyaom
Seems like a few (intimate) details of this story were left out.
Bauhaus
‘Are you done?’ Hudson sounded like one helluva lover.
lauraspencer
Great story until the hookup. Yuck! I hope Mark & Charley broke up. Tacky anniversary since Mark ended up having sex with Rock. Why be in a relationship if you are going to have sex with others? Doesn’t make sense.
What Rock probably needed more than sex was some friends. It would have been nice to just play Trivial Pursuit with him and trivialize his penis.
lauraspencer
and NOT trivialize his penis.
Stache99
OMG you did that on your anniversary with the man you loved. What a pig. Ok I probably would’ve done the same thing but still what a pig.
Stache99
@lauraspencer: Rock Hudson was a major star in the day and most couples would probably have done the same thing. Having a sex liaison with a major movie star is not seen as cheating but a once in lifetime event.
The tragedy is the way it ended though. “Are you done yet”.
Mary Nana Moyer
He was my celebrity crush back in the day, for sure!
dvlaries
I believe it. It fits hand and glove with the portrait of Hudson the Sara Davidson biography leaves one with. It sounds very much like the half-happiness and limited contentment and peace of mind anyone would have to settle for in a business, and at a time, when exposure would have meant the loss of millions of dollars and the regard of millions of onlookers.
lauraspencer
@Stache99:
I wouldn’t.
martinbakman
Yup, it was trivial.
James Hart
I still remember as a little boy watching all of those Doris Day/ Rock Hudson movies. The glamour and the beauty of both of those actors. An era long, long ago.
Curty
What a cheating scum bag. Rock Hudson had no respect for nothing. If this man wanted you and you were gay or bi curious, he had you. By that time work was limited and the booze really took over him since the mid 70s.
Desert Boy
Everyone in Hollywood liked Rock Hudson. He was kind, generous and a professional.
I am reminded how different it is today for people diagnosed with HIV/AIDS. I am sorry Rock didn’t live long enough to take advantage of anti-retro viral therapies.
He will always be missed.
sfhally
What’s sad and trivial is the apparent need to tell a story about someone who isn’t here to contest it.
Enron
I am confused by the sex part. Was his penis big or not, describe it flaccid and erect, cut or uncut, was it thick, short, long? These are things we need to know.
cflekken
So, by today’s standards, Mark could have been charged with rape since Rock was drunk. And Rock probably would have been pulled over and gotten a DUI.
normadesmond
while working in LA in the early 80s, rock came in asking for directions. my moron supervisor told him what he wanted to know (never realizing who she was talking to) while i stood next to her slack jawed. i’d seen gobs of celebs but dammit, here was a gorgeous movie star standing in front of me. if only i’d had a iphone.
Mark
@lauraspencer: I couldn’t agree more, lauraspencer. My immaturity and selfishness at the time is kind of the point (making the evening “sad and trivial”) of this piece. If this were simply a star-fucking story, I would have provided the kind of details that other commentors are asking for. And yes, Charlie and I broke up, but many years later, after a long and fairly happy relationship.
NoCagada
New York COmpany Bar and Grill…it was a really nice place
Curty
Mark, why did you sleep with Rock hudson and cheat on your boyfriend? Also Rock was verse but most of the time guys couldn’t get it up to perform because of being star struck. Rock said that himself. Rock loved to drink. His ending is sad. The roles dried up, alcohol increased and men just came and went.
Billy Budd
Who was the top and who was the bottom?
Billy Budd
I bet Rock was the bottom. It is easier to get HIV+ if you are a bottom.
Moritz
Rock had to be in his late fifties by then. If gay men are supposed to be so ageist, how is it his star power meant more than his age? I know some couples talk about who they might give their spouse a free pass for, most husbands and wives often have some star in mind. Usually it is someone young and hot, not an older has-been actor.
Rock seemed like someone who did not really like himself, and saw his sexuality in a way we do not today. As something mechanical, an urge that means nothing outside of the act itself. He once said he would never march in a gay pride parade, he said it would be like holding up a jar a Vaseline as he marched. He saw nothing to be proud of, perhaps he was just a man of his age. My parents were both born the same year he was, and they still see it as all about “the act” itself. No love, romance, caring, compassion. Very sad indeed.
uticaboy
We all do things we later regret, but your story is on whole different level. I’m sorry you had such a rough time after you learned of Rock’s illness. Thank you for having the courage to share your story with us.
Zenguy
@Curty: What a immature, simlistic short-sighted inquiry and comment. After reading the story and some of lucid comments, what are you missing?
charmin88
Rock Hudson was Handsome,but I would NOT of cheated on my boyfriend. I guess I believe in love and actual loyalty and commitment. It could of been Shemar moore (the 90’s Shemar Moore) and I still wouldn’t of done that. That’s just wrong and disrespectful. To add insult to injury on your anniversary really…
1EqualityUSA
Depressing, all around. This story sounds as though it was written by someone who is anti-gay, proliferating stereotypes and casting our community as meaningless and rife with diseases. Mark King? hmmm.
musctop
@Mark: Sorry but I find your story sickening. It was your ANNIVERSARY. It’s so wrong on so many levels, and even repeating your story doesnt make you hot, interesting, tragic, nothing. Just a sad cheater.
da90027
I agree that some things are better left unsaid. Rock was a really nice guy who was friendly to strangers and co workers. I think the guy needed good friends in his life not younger immature men pining after him. It was not easy being gay back then im sure the heavy drinking was a result of having to hide in the closet for three decades. Having sex with another on your anniversary sounds like something a couple would do on one of those sex boat cruises. Id be ashamed to admit it but interesting story.
Curty
@Zenguy: If I was to do something like this, I certainly would not share it with the world. I would ne ashamed. Cheat on your partner then later write about it to share it to millions of people potentially? Mark seems a bit unapologetic and just was sex driven. Mark couldn’t have loved charley to have a 30 minute sex session with an old movie star who been then was not nearly as good looking as he was in the 1950s, 1960s. Mark this is embarrassing. I’ve done some bad things in my life but I certainly would tell the world how much of a stupid, cheater.
Curty
Certainly would not tell the world.
Curty
@Moritz: I think a lot of men then and today just see it as an act. Just sex. That’s nothing new and many today just see being gay is about sex. It wasn’t until I guess I feel for someone in my early 20’s and realized it meant more that I begun to support gay rights. I think people fail to realize gay sex was illegal until 12 years ago. We still have a long way to go. Most states can discriminate because you are gay. Still very hard country and harder world to be openly gay.
canuckdave
The title of the article says it all, Sad and trivial. That Queerty would publish this and shame on me for resding it.
Doughosier
@Moritz: stardom trumps ageism.