Laid Bare: Essays and Observations, Judson, Tom [best self help books to read .TXT] 📗

Several of the 10,000+ models who posed for Bob Mizer have gotten in touch with Bell and the AMG--mostly through the internet—some of them decades after the original photo shoots. Dennis is actively pursuing more such contacts and meetings. In addition to providing the models with prints, he hopes to produce a video documentary in which the men recount their experiences posing for Physique Pictorial.

But, under Dennis Bell’s watchful eye, the Athletic Model Guild is looking to the future as much as it is preserving its own storied past. His plans for the company and its assets were instrumental in convincing the Mizer estate to sell him the materials. In addition to re-issuing the existing images and films, Dennis is drawing on his own experience in the adult film industry to carry-on and expand the AMG brand. “Although Bob tried to film hardcore in the 1970s, he wasn’t extremely successful at it. The difference between me and Bob is our experience working with hardcore. With my experience, AMG will now be able to produce full sexual situations that Bob couldn’t do.”

While the reincarnated Athletic Model Guild has all the tools of the digital age at its disposal it is, essentially, still the dreamchild of one man. The symmetry of such a collection passing from the hands of photographer and pioneer Bob Mizer into those of photographer and entrepreneur Dennis Bell has its romantic aspects, but, “right now it is all I do, my social life is gone. But I know that soon we’ll be back in production, and I’ll start shooting again.”

Until then Dennis Bell spends his solitary days in the company of a million men.

Little Miss Indian Giver

The first birthday party I recall with any clarity occurred when I was in kindergarten. Perhaps the reason I remember this one is that it would have been my first party where the attendees were children other than my sisters and cousins. The guest list was most likely comprised of my friends from school, in addition to my family.

But, the real reason the party on my 5th birthday has stuck in my mind all these years can be summed up in two words: Theresa Duurloo. She was my best friend in kindergarten. We'd pal around on the playground and share a cot for our nap. If Terry didn't want her second graham cracker, I was the lucky recipient--no one else even bothered to ask. I guess she was my first girlfriend.

So, when my mother asked whom I wanted at my party, Theresa was, naturally, at the top of the list. I invited one or two other little friends from school and my sisters and cousins rounded out the guest list.

We hadn't built the addition on our house at this point, so the extra leaf was put in the kitchen table and the whole thing was dragged into the living room. We all had party hats and noisemakers and the paper plates matched the napkins.

The cake had been made special: Mom had a little booklet put out by Baker's Coconut that had directions to create festive-shaped cakes by cutting round and square cake layers and piecing them together. Patterns were included and all of the cakes had coconut sprinkled on top of the frosting. There were plans for a bunny, a locomotive and a clown, among many others, but I asked Mom to make the sailboat cake for me.

A square cake was cut on an angle in two unequal halves to create the sails. The hull of the boat featured coconut dyed blue, with Life Saver portholes and a licorice whip mast. The sails billowed with a snowy coconut covering and five candles were placed along the bottom edge of the cake.

After cake and ice cream came the opening of the presents. I have forgotten everything I received that day except for one very special present: Theresa Duurloo gave me a blue Tonka Toys Jeep. I loved it! It was my favorite of all my presents.

When the other kids mother's came to pick them up and the party started winding down, I went to find my new Jeep so I could hold it while saying goodbye to my guests. But, it was nowhere to be found! I looked everywhere for my Jeep, but it had vanished. I ran into the hall, panic-stricken, just as Mrs. Duurloo arrived to pick up Terry. Alarmed by the look on my face, my mother asked what was wrong. "I can't find my blue Jeep," I cried.

The mothers looked at each other, then they looked at Theresa, who stood at the door looking like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.

"Theresa, what's under your coat?” asked Mrs. Duurloo. Terry went on to explain that she had merely brought the Jeep for me to play with and fully intended to bring it back home with her. Her attitude implied that it was clearly a quality item and she surely couldn't be expected to leave it here with a... boy.

The mothers started to laugh, the children began to cry and Mrs. Duurloo left the party with her daughter and without the Jeep. I have it to this day, in fact.

Twelve years later, Theresa Duurloo and I found ourselves the only two members of our kindergarten class who were still in the same school district and graduating together. We met in the parking lot of the school after the ceremony. With our robes billowing in the soft June breeze we hugged each other, holding on to our caps as they knocked into each other as we embraced.

She put her mouth next to my ear and whispered, "Y'know, I never did forgive you for keeping that Jeep." And with that, we pulled apart and said our final goodbyes before going off to separate parties and separate lives.

RIGATONI WITH SAUSAGE AND FENNEL

1 lb.