Why I Write – Writing For My Children – written March 21, 2011

Talking with “Mahmoud” about children and how life is meaningless without them got me thinking about writing in my journal. In my church, we have been taught to keep journals from the time we were young. Partly to see our own growth and to record our spiritual experiences, but also to provide a record for our descendants. We want to share our histories with our descendants so they can really know us.

In my case, I post my journal entries on blogs (I only type my journal – can’t do the hand-written journals anymore, though I do keep detailed handwritten notes on my calendars and day planners).

This is partly because I want to be involved in discussions about lesbianism, prostitution, swinging, and polyamory without using my real name, but also so my descendants can read my journals and know what I was like. In blog form, I change all the names and identifying information because I don’t want my children getting any ideas and tracking down Robert Hannibal’s children. I want to protect everyone who I write about, but especially Robert Hannibal.

However, lately I’ve been thinking that I don’t I want my children to read my journal entries. Especially after my conversation with Mahmoud reinforced how important I think mothers are for their children. I want my children to just think of me as a mother. I don’t want them to think of me as anything else.

But the same goes for my grandchildren. I only want them to think of me as a grandmother. Grandmothers are the best thing in the world (unless the mother is wonderful, which mine wasn’t), and even though I love seeing pictures of my late grandmother when she was young and pretty, and I was so happy when she would tell me that I look like she did when she was young, her primary identity to me is as Grandma. I want my grandchildren to only think of me as Grandma.

So I’ve decided that these blog journal entries should only be read by my great-grandchildren. That’s far enough down the line and I’ll be far enough removed from history at that point (I’m so old now and have not had any children yet, and I will most likely die before I have any grandchildren).

But even though I’ll likely be dead before I have any grandchildren, I still want them to think of me as “Grandma.” My great grandchildren, therefore, should be the first in my family to read these entries and to know of my shadow life.

I want to emphasize that this is not because I’m embarrassed by any of this shadow life. On the contrary, I am not at all ashamed of any of it, but I know some of the subject matter might make some people uncomfortable, which is the main reason I keep it secret.

And I especially think women should not be ashamed of prostitution. I think sex work is a very logical way of making money and I hate that there is such a stigma attached.

But my most important role in life will be to be a mother, and so that is all that my children need to be know. No child wants to know about the sex lives, past or present, of their parents, and my children aren’t going to want to know about mine either. Nor will my grandchildren. And these journal entries include too much of my sexual life.

When I’m older, I’ll go through my entries and designate the creative writing ones and the ones that talk about spiritual matters and politics for my children and grand-children. But I’ll leave the ones about my personal life for my great-grandchildren. Perhaps my great-grandchildren won’t want to know about my personal life either? In any case, we’ll see.

I don’t know how I will make sure that only my great-grandchildren read these entries. I don’t know what blog-hosting services will be in place in the future, and I don’t know how to ensure that my great-grandchildren and beyond can read this but not my children and grandchildren.

But there is plenty of time for this. I am not even close to having any children at this point.

In the meantime, I enjoy the catharsis of purging but also reliving when I write down my life. And I love being part of polyamory and lesbian groups online under my pseudonym that I could never be a part of in real life. The internet is a great way for my shadow life to emerge from the bifurcation that I am.

Mormons, Sex, and Violence

Last night I was with my Mormon friends at an informal discussion group – one of our other friends was talking to us about theater in NYC and recommending shows, etc.  One of my friends lightheartedly mentioned an experimental show where there was a red velvet cake representing someone’s dead bloody body and people started eating it.  I exclaimed my disgust.   One thing about me – I can never hide my emotions. 


Everyone laughed at me and another friend mentioned a show she had seen where someone smashed a pumpkin that was supposed to represent a human head.  “I can’t handle it!” I cried and covered my ears.  Again, everyone laughed. 


People think I’m just overreacting or being funny, but I really cannot handle such gross depictions of violence to the human body, even allegorical. 


Then they started discussing the immersive theatre piece “Sleep No More.”  The girl who led the discussion intoned in a very serious voice, “I have to warn you, there is eroticism and sexual connotations.”  Another of my friends, who’d seen the show, agreed that there was nudity, but she didn’t feel the scenes she saw were particularly erotic (since the show is interactive, each person can see a different show, depending on which character they follow, which rooms they end up in, etc.).  They both thought the show was excellent but emphasized that one should be prepared for the sexual inferences.


I remember reading about “Sleep No More” when it first came out a couple years ago and was instantly intrigued.  I still need to see it, but what will be uncomfortable for me will be the violence, not the sex.   This theatre discussion only reinforced to me how different I am from my dear Mormon friends.  I was dismayed, as I usually get, at hearing my Mormon friends exercise caution in all matters sexual but think nothing of violence.


My friends know I can’t handle violence.  When we watch movies, they always tell me when I need to cover my eyes and (sometimes ears).  But when we’re choosing movies, if there is too much hint of anything sexual, someone will invariably voice concern.  But I feel like I am the only one who protests at violence. 


I will never understand the Mormon culture’s over-concern with sex and under-concern with violence (I specify culture because our doctrine is pretty clearly against violence).  Even my roommate has often complained that guys in New York are worse than guys in California because they’ll cheat on their women (I could never tell her the full story about my beloved married Robert Hannibal), and guys in Cali are faithful, but they all have guns.  I didn’t press her on this because I didn’t want to get in an argument with her, but I’m so tired of this kind of thinking. 


At this theatre discussion, I remembered a meeting with my bishop this past December.  He was trying to understand how I can have a testimony of the LDS church but not a testimony of the law of chastity. He asked what I thought about the human body and the sacred creation that it is and the sacred respect that we should give the body.  I told him I have so much respect for the human body that it upsets me to watch any kind of violence and I don’t even like watching fights because I can’t handle bodies getting hurt. He seemed surprised and said it was commendable that I feel that way.  But he said he wants me to work on getting a testimony of the law of chastity.


I’m still trying.  But I would like all Mormons to get a testimony of the beauty and sacredness of the human body in the full sense, not in their limited sex-outside-of marriage-is-bad sense. 

Frank Discussions of Sexuality in a Bedouin Shop in Jerusalem – written March 21, 2011

This Saturday morning after “Abdul” took me to breakfast, he brought me to a Bedouin shop that his brother co-managed.  His brother, “Mahmoud,” spoke nearly perfect English. Mahmoud told me Abdul had told him I was Mormon and a journalism student.  I told Mahmoud I was writing about nonviolent resistance and asked if I could talk with him about that.  He told me, “I am against fighting and against danger, except in bed.”

So I knew this wouldn’t be an ordinary interview.  Initially I tried to steer the conversation to my story topic, but he kept asking me questions, wanting to know about me, especially my being Mormon.  He told me he had worked at the BYU Jerusalem Center twelve years ago, and even dated a Mormon girl for 18 months.

He asked about my dating life, and at first I only told him about “New,” the Indian from New Jersey I met at my swing party job, as that seemed the most normal of my dating (though of course none of my dating is normal).  Somehow he deduced that I was not a typical Mormon girl and had mostly dated non-Mormons and had had sex outside of marriage.  “So you’re a bad Mormon,” he said.

I was a little taken aback, because even though I may not follow all the commandments, I still have a very strong testimony of the Gospel and eventually I do plan on being completely faithful.  Why would I have signed a contract otherwise stating that eventually I will be fully committed to the Lord?

However, as soon as I protested, he responded, “You break the rules, you’re a bad Mormon. It’s okay, my ex-girlfriend was a bad Mormon too, back then.”

Mahmoud calling me a “bad Mormon” released the secrets of my shadow life, and I spoke very frankly with him.  I explained that even though I believe the LDS Church is true, I don’t understand the law of chastity, so I don’t keep it, though I plan to in the future.

I also told him that all my life I thought I was a lesbian and was only attracted to women.  I told him this is why prostitution is easy for me because I could never imagine any woman wanting to have sex with a man unless she gets paid for it.  I explained that I felt this way until I met Robert Hannibal, whom I met at my prostitution-like job, where I’m paid to have sex with the men who attend the swing party.

I even admitted that a couple years ago I was going to marry a Filipino guy just to get him to the States and to make me seem a somewhat normal Mormon by being married, since I’m an unmarried woman and that makes me not a normal Mormon.  I told him how “Dan” and I had an agreement that if we got married, it would only be for a year, and I told Mahmoud that most of the time Dan and I did not have sex alone but rather in group settings.  Love of orgies and women – that’s all Dan and I had in common.

I told Mahmoud I never enjoyed sex alone with a man before and always wanted women there to make it enjoyable for me, and that was why I liked orgies.  I told him Robert Hannibal was the first man I ever enjoyed sex alone with, the first man I ever was attracted to, the first man I ever loved, the first man I ever made love to.

Mahmoud laughed and said that’s because I’d dated an Indian and a Filipino, and he said “they’re not real men.”  He asked if I’d ever been with an Arab, and I said I had been with Arabs and they meant nothing to me, same as with every other man.  I told him that through my job in college and my current job, in addition to my limited dating,  I’ve been with hundreds of guys, that I’ve been with every single race, actually, and many different nationalities: black, white, Asian, Latin American, Iranian, Arab, Kurdish, Dominican, etc.  Though I told him I wasn’t sure if I’d been with a Pacific Islander.

He asked what race Robert Hannibal is, and when I said he was from Jamaica, Mahmoud said that he’d heard black men are good in bed. I told him I’d been with many black men and none of them were any good; only Robert Hannibal is good.  And I don’t consider Robert Hannibal black.  Or any race.  Robert Hannibal is in his own category.

Mahmoud asked what I like about sex with Robert Hannibal and I said I didn’t know how to explain it but I love sex with him so much.  I love him so much I want to be as close as possible to him and the closest way is through sex.  But during sex with every other guy I don’t feel anything (unless it hurts).

He asked if I ever orgasmed with Robert Hannibal and I told him I’d never orgasmed with any guy, only with women, but with Robert Hannibal I loved being with him so much that I didn’t need to orgasm.  I feel so wonderful having sex with him.  It’s the best feeling in the world, but it’s not an orgasm, it’s something else entirely.

He asked if Robert Hannibal had gone down on me, and I said yes, a few times, but I prefer to have him inside me because we’re closer that way.  He asked how I feel when guys go down on me and I said, “again, nothing.”  He asked what about when I go down on guys and I said I have done that, but I don’t like it.

I said, “In my job now, I don’t do anything – I don’t give hand-jobs or blow-jobs – I just have sex. I just receive, but I’ll receive any kind of sex – vaginal, oral, anal – it doesn’t matter.”

“I figured you out – you don’t want to do any work,” Mahmoud said.  “You’re lazy.”

“You’re right,” I said.  “And why should I work when I don’t need to?  I don’t need to do anything at all, and they have a good time and they cum.  So why should I do any work? I don’t need to and I don’t want to.”

He said he would take me to the King David Hotel.  “I’ll treat you like a princess.  I’ll do everything.  You just lay there.  You don’t need to do anything.”

“No. Journalists can’t do anything sexual with their sources – that’s unethical.”

“Don’t quote me in your article and I’m not a source.”

“Regardless, I’m not gonna do anything with you, or with anyone, while I’m here,” I said.  “I’m here for a school trip.  That’s all.”

I didn’t want to tell him that I only have sex for money because I was worried he may offer payment.  I didn’t want that temptation.  Besides, even though it was clear from our first moment of conversation that he was not going to be one of my sources for my story, I still considered him a source in the general sense of helping me get acquainted with Arab life in Jerusalem.

He asked if I wanted to marry Robert Hannibal, and I told him Robert Hannibal was already married.  But I told Mahmoud I wanted to keep seeing Robert Hannibal even though I knew there was no future with him because this was my first time to like a guy, to love a guy, and I wanted to experience that.  I’d only known what it was like to be a lesbian and I wanted to experience actually loving a man.

I said I was still mostly a lesbian because so far Robert Hannibal was the only guy I liked, but I liked him more than any of the women I’d dated, even the ones I was currently dating (as far as women, I’m really only seeing “Cinnamon” and “Desire” from my job).  I said I hoped I could love another guy sometime in the future, and I didn’t want to live a lesbian life anymore like I used to when I was younger.

He told me of his friend who was a lesbian, and she didn’t want children (he seemed to think that all lesbians wanted to be childless).  “It’s a good thing you’re not a lesbian anymore because children make everything worthwhile.  If you don’t have children, what are you?  What have you done in this life?  You’ve done nothing.  Children are everything and you could be the richest and most powerful leader in the world but if you have no children, you are nothing.”

“I completely agree,” and I tried to explain that even when I was living primarily a lesbian life and not seeing any men, I still wanted children in my future, but he kept going on.  He was saying how he felt sorry for his lesbian friend and he was glad I was realizing how important it was to have kids before it was too late.  “Children are your only legacy,” he said. “You are nothing without them.  Life has no meaning without them.”

I loved seeing how passionate Mahmoud became discussing children. I didn’t ask if he had any.  Come to think of it, I didn’t even ask if he was married.  I didn’t even ask Abdul if he was married, though I don’t think so, since he took a photo of me and him together on his phone, and if he was married, his wife would likely see the photo (the photo was simply me and Abdul standing next to each other, but still, if he was married, I’m sure his wife wouldn’t like it, so I’m certain he’s not married).

We also discussed religion and politics in his beautiful shop. Religion, politics, and sexuality are my three favorite topics to discuss, but they can also be the most divisive.  So I love meeting people who can discuss these subjects with me, and I really enjoyed talking with Mahmoud.

He introduced me to one of his business partners or co-workers, who asked if I was “a believer.”  I said yes, and he smiled.  I love the connection that believers have.  We may have different ideas of God and the purpose of this life, etc. but the fact that we believe in God provides an immediate bond.

(I remembered how the night before, when I met Abdul, I met another Muslim shopkeeper also on Salaheddin Street who spoke very good English.  We talked about God and when I told him I was Mormon, he told me about the BYU Jerusalem Center and he said he was impressed with how nice the students there were.  We had a great little conversation – I love talking about religion and spirituality with people.  And then I met Abdul, but I wish I would have gotten the other shopkeeper’s contact information.  He told me he sells pictures near the Garden Tomb, but I didn’t have a chance to see him again before our class left Israel.)

I took pictures of Mahmoud’s beautiful shop inside and outside – my horrible photography skills were helped by the beautiful antiques and fabrics in the shop and the effect nightfall had on the shop outside.  I met more of Mahmoud’s co-workers and spoke a little with them, and despite the language barriers, everyone was just so kind to me.

Mahmoud took me driving a little bit to see the city and we passed by the King David Hotel a few times – each time Mahmoud said, “Do you want to be a princess? You don’t have to do anything at all.”  Each time I said no.

What men don’t understand is I get no pleasure out of having things done to me if I am not attracted to the person doing them to me – man or woman (though women do have a better touch).  If I’m not attracted, there’s absolutely nothing that can be done to me to give me pleasure.  Therefore, it is a waste of my time – even if I am just laying there – unless I am being paid.

But I didn’t want to keep reminding him that I’m a lesbian except for Robert Hannibal.  So each time he made the suggestion, I just said “No.”  He’s very nice and fun to talk with, but also persistent. But I’m glad I met him.

Talking with Arabs in Jerusalem/ Book of Mormon analogy? – written March 21, 2011

Our class just got back into the city today, and I am exhausted.  Israel is beautiful, and we all wish we could have stayed longer.  It was an amazing trip, with so much packed into such a short timeframe.

We each have to write a major feature story, and I’m writing about non-violent resistance.  Not about whether it’s good, bad, needed, or even helpful, but simply about how it’s being done and who’s doing it. [A reporter] from the Global Post had suggested to our class that someone write on that topic, so I decided to.

I wanted a variety of perspectives, and had already spoken with some Israeli Jews and some Palestinian Christians and Muslims.  Since we had free reporting time in Jerusalem this past Friday evening and Saturday during the day, I figured it would be a good time to interview Arabs, as most Jews would be observing Shabbat.

Friday night I walked along Salaheddin Street in East Jerusalem, where there were many Arab shopkeepers.  I met “Abdul,” who spoke a little English and when I told him what I was writing about, he took me driving with a few of his friends.  They took me to Sheikh Jarrah, where I had been last Friday for the protest, and showed me houses they said were “Arab houses, taken by Jews.”

As a journalist, I have to get each side’s perspective honestly and accurately, and of course, verify what people say, and still do my own research.  But my story isn’t going to discuss who is right or wrong (or half-right or half-wrong), but how is non-violent protest carried out, etc.

But more than trying to help me with my story, my new Arab friends told me that they wanted me to have fun here, my last Friday night in Jerusalem. They took me up to Mount Scopus to see the view of the city at night.  They showed me the BYU Jerusalem Center, since I told them I was Mormon.

Abdul and his friends kept asking me if I wanted to drink, and I would tell them no.  Since I’m Mormon, they asked if that’s why I don’t drink, and they said they are Muslim, but they still drink! But I told them I’ve never had any interest in drinking regardless of my religion.  They never pressured me to drink, but they said they didn’t want to be rude and drink in front of me, but I said it was fine, as long as the guy driving didn’t drink too much.

They wanted me to get the experience of Arabs in Israel, so they offered to show me around more neighborhoods, and they took me to get falafel sandwich. They wanted to pay for it and I thanked them but said that in journalism, I couldn’t accept free meals.  They said they would be offended if I didn’t accept it. I again said I wanted to be ethical, but they said they would be deeply offended, and so I accepted the falafel.

This reminded me of last summer in 2010 when I was getting acquainted with my class reporting beat, and met the Arab owners of a grocery store in a predominantly black and Jewish neighborhood.  The owners wanted to give me bottled water and make me a sandwich from their deli, and at first I thanked them but declined, then I finally accepted. I am aware of how hospitable are those in Arab lands, but I didn’t want to be unethical as a journalist. Each situation you have to just weigh.  The grocery store owners were such gracious hosts, as were my new Arab friends in East Jerusalem.

After we ate, Abdul and his friends took me to a hookah bar.  I was the only female in the entire place, but no one appeared bothered that I was there.  My friends sat and played cards and smoked hookah, offering me some, though I declined.  But I had fun just being around them.  The owners of the hookah bar were very respectful, allowing me to use their own restroom (there were living quarters behind the customer area) instead of the customer restroom, since there was only one public restroom and all the customers were men.

The next morning Abdul took me to breakfast with one of his friends, and again I accepted breakfast after first refusing it.  This friend, “Ahmad,” spoke very good English, so I was able to have more of a conversation with him.  My conversations Friday night were limited with almost everyone I met, and indeed with Abdul, who was introducing me to everyone, because their English wasn’t strong and my Arabic is non-existent, unfortunately.

Nearly all the Arabs I spoke with were Israeli citizens, most of whom had Jordanian passports, but they told me they identified as Palestinian.  Ahmad said flatly, “Palestinian in everything.”

I have studied but still don’t fully understand all of the dynamics, all the histories, of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. I know each side has its own narrative, and facts on the ground can get emphasized or diminished, depending on the objective.

However, in the simple part of my mind, I think that Arabs and Jews should most definitely be friends.  Not least because Abraham is their common ancestor, through Ishmael for the Arabs and Isaac for the Jews.  Though perhaps the close ties and diverging paths engender more enmity.

Whenever I think of Jews and Arabs, I’m reminded of the people in The Book of Mormon – the Nephites and the Lamanites.  Brothers Nephi and Laman, sons of Lehi, an Israelite.  They all emigrated from Jerusalem to “the promised land” – in the Americas.  Laman and his brother Lemuel resented Nephi, who was the good boy, and tried to kill him.  After their father died, Laman and Lemuel drove Nephi and their other brother Sam and their families out of “the land of their first inheritance.”

Thus the “Nephites” and “Lamanites” separated, and their descendants hated each other. Told from the Nephite perspective (and it would be interesting to read the Lamanite side), the Book of Mormon characters talk of the Lamanites believing the traditions of their fathers – that the Nephites hate the Lamanites, and so the Lamanites want to destroy the Nephites.  After hundreds of years, the Lamanites killed off all the Nephites (except Moroni, who wrote the final pages of the Book of Mormon).

I don’t suggest that The Book of Mormon is analogous to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict – it’s not.  For one thing, Nephi and Laman shared the same mother, but there are many more differences beyond that. And I’m not saying that one side represents the Jews and the other the Palestinians, or Arabs in general. But the similarity that always strikes me is that both sides, descendants of the same father, thought the other hated them.

Ahmad told me Saturday morning that “if you invite a Jewish person for coffee here, he would not come in.”  Is that really true, or is that what they’ve been taught to think?

In another conversation with Ahmad, he said that if Israel ended the occupation and there were two states, “Israel would be more happy.” Now, I know it’s not as simple as that, as there are many issues regarding borders, etc., and I want Israel to be secure, but if all of that could be agreed upon, I think Ahmad is right.

Just as it’s better for each person to be on friendly terms with his neighbor, and each of us has to compromise as we navigate this social world, the same goes for nations.  It’s in everyone’s interest and in every nation’s interest for all nations and people to be stable, secure, happy.  Both the Israeli people and the Palestinian people need to compromise, and it’s in their own best interests to do so.

Plus, in my own experience, I’ve found that the more I get to know someone, the more I care for them.  Yes, as we know people better we expose our deficiencies in a greater manner and we better know others’ quirks.  But this vulnerability also allows us to humanize each other.  To really want the best for each other.

I think most people are basically good, if flawed, people.  Last week on our trip a member of Hamas spoke to our class.  In his talk to us, he said he didn’t believe in killing innocent people, but reiterated the need for Palestinians to defend themselves from their enemy (Israel).  As one who remembers reading with horror about suicide bombings during the Second Intifada, which truly haunted and angers me to this day, even, I knew as a journalist I still needed to listen to all sides, even though I will never condone anyone encouraging someone to be a suicide bomber and kill innocent civilians.

I had a very good, rational, enjoyable conversation with him after his speech, and I got his contact information so I could meet with him for lunch next time I’m in Israel.  I recalled how, minutes earlier in his speech to our class, he had tried to deflect a question from one of my classmates about whether he thought the Holocaust happened or not, and finally admitted that he thought it did happen, but he didn’t know if 600 people or 6 million people were killed.  Somehow it seemed that it was preferable for him to ignore facts in order to keep his ideology strong.

Everyone on this trip has been a joy for me to speak with.  We met rabbis, Palestinian priests and nuns, Muslim Sheikhs, a Qadi (Sharia law judge – Israel has Sharia courts for Muslims) in Jerusalem, many everyday citizens in Israel, Jewish and Arab, many people in the West Bank, and a Palestinian Christian non-profit leader who is probably the most compassionate man I’ve ever met in my entire life.

I’m of many minds.  But I am not naïve and I know some people hate others simply because of their race or nationality or religion.  I know some countries hate other countries.  And I know fault is not equal in all situations – there are often truly aggressors and victims, and sometimes they switch places.

I don’t have any answers but I can honestly say I generally like most people (some people annoy me, and some people I like more than others!).  But even people I don’t like as much I don’t want bad things to happen to them.  I really want the best for everyone.  That includes me.

How does this end?  I don’t know, but I know how I don’t want it to.

Kevin Stea Ruled the Gap Go-Go Commercial

I will always remember seeing the Gap Khaki Go-Go commercial in the late ‘90s.   Usually when watching dancers, I only notice the females.  Not just because I think women are beautiful and more visually appealing than men, but I also think women are better and more interesting dancers.

When I saw the Gap Go-Go commercial, I loved it immediately for two reasons.  One, the music.  It was the first time I’d ever heard James Clarke’s “Blow Up a Go-Go (Wild Elephants)” and I was in love with that music.  I could not get enough.


But even more, the man in the center was amazing.  My eyes drew to him and did not see anyone else.  He was such a captivating dancer, with such charisma. And the way he looked at the camera in the beginning was so powerful that I could not look away from him.  When he briefly disappeared offscreen, I hoped he would reappear soon. I was so surprised that a man could take over my attention that I, a lesbian, did not even see any of the women.

I couldn’t understand how this dancer affected me so much.  I was not attracted to him (for me, attraction means I want to kiss the person, etc.), and I didn’t want to kiss him or anything.  I wondered if he was gay, though I hated to stereotype him as gay just because he was a dancer.  But my lack of sexual attraction for him did not negate from the electricity I felt when he danced.  I wanted to continue to watch him dance.   And only him.

See the Gap Go-Go Commercial here

Fourteen years later, and someone recently happened to mention old commercials and music from the ‘90s. I thought of the Gap Go-Go commercial.  Finding it on youtube, I saw that the man in the center still affected me in the same way.  Through the wonders of the Internet, I was able to find out his name, Kevin Stea.  Since I love giving compliments (though I cannot give false compliments), I sent him the following email:

hi kevin, 

i just feel i should tell you that over a decade ago when the gap go-go commercial came out, i was transfixed by your performance.  normally i only notice women in dance groups, for i’m lesbian.  but when that commercial came out, you had such charisma, not to mention the most captivating dance performance, that i only noticed you in the whole group. i was often amazed throughout the years that there was a male dancer that could draw me away from all the females, not in an attraction-based way, but due to the power and charisma that this man had.  

recently someone was talking about the gap commercials from the 90’s and i remembered the gap go-go commercial, and looked it up on youtube. again, i was loving your performance and, again, i only saw you!  so i wanted to know you are! 

i even asked a question on yahoo answers to find out and saw that someone had already asked this question in 2007:

Lead male dancer from Gap “Khaki-a-Go-Go” commercial?

What is the name of the lead male dancer in the “Khaki-a-Go-Go” Gap commercial from 1998? He’s the guy in the black t-shirt with dark, curly hair who is the star at the beginning of the commercial and fades into the chorus of dancers. I think he was also in the Gap vests commercial from around the same time.

Best Answer – Chosen by Asker

Kevin Stea?

Asker’s Rating:

Asker’s Comment:

Thanks. I found some Kevin Stea fansites and now I’m pretty sure he’s the right guy.

Other Answers

Don’t know, but he was HOT!

  • 6 years ago
  • >

Then, when i went back to the youtube clip, i saw in the comments section that others noticed you particularly as well:


Agreed re: the man in the center. Normally the women in any dance group hold my attention but in this ad, the man in the center has so much charisma and dance power that he is the only one I notice.

‪polly olga yobek ‪‪1 day ago

i love the man in the center

‪shogokawahara ‪‪2 years ago ‪3

What is the name of the dancer in the center at the beginning with the curly hair? He’s really good!!

‪bellier ‪‪3 years ago ‪2

He really is, and cute too!😛

‪ekomancer ‪in reply to ‪bellier ‪3 years ago

‪‪Kevin Stae. He’s toured with Madonna, walked runway for CK, Tommy, Coultier, and was in “Naked Boys Singing” if you want to see…ahem…More of him😛

‪‪‪ruggeddusty‪‪ ‪in reply to ‪bellier ‪3 years ago

Oh god… this is already 10 years old?!?!?

I’m feeling my age.

Gotta love the Fosse-esque choreography and wow Kevin Stea?!?! sweet

‪Earthmage ‪‪4 years ago ‪5

who is Kevin Stea? is he the guy in the first part…looks Asian?

‪maryquant1967 ‪in reply to ‪Earthmage (Show the comment) ‪3 years ago

Yep! That’s the one.

‪Earthmage ‪in reply to ‪maryquant1967 ‪3 years ago

he’s ssssssssssssmokin’

‪maryquant1967 ‪in reply to ‪Earthmage ‪3 years ago

if youre talking about the guy in the middle its kevin stea-he was in newsies! LOVE him. hes in a show called naked boys singing right now….🙂

‪FallKABOOM ‪in reply to ‪Ratdog93 (Show the comment) ‪4 years ago

Kevin Stea is asian.. the cute boy in the middle isn’t..

‪Ratdog93 ‪in reply to ‪FallKABOOM (Show the comment) ‪4 years ago

well the one in the middle is definitely kevin stea…it’s for sure.

‪momoprincessxo ‪in reply to ‪Ratdog93 (Show the comment) ‪4 years ago

does anyone know the name of the cute main male dancer??

‪Ratdog93 ‪‪4 years ago

if you’re refering to the one with the big hair in the middle he was one of madonna’s dancers. he was in her Truth or Dare movie. he was also a dancer in the movie Showgirls but had just a few lines in it. but i don’t know his name. he’s a great dancer though. total flamer but hey….

‪nobhiller ‪in reply to ‪Ratdog93 ‪4 years ago

I absolutely love Kevin Stea! He’s such a talented guy!

‪wannabesurfahgirl ‪‪6 years ago

Funny thing is that Kevin is also in the Austin Powers movie doing about the same dance moves during the opening credits…

‪choitoy57 ‪in reply to ‪wannabesurfahgirl ‪5 years ago

I’ve always got my eyes locked on that male dancer in the center. Man, he is cuuute!

‪mikey42 ‪‪5 years ago


So I just wanted to share this with you to let you know that your appearance in that Gap commercial stayed with me all these many years, and obviously with others too!  I think it’s pretty amazing that one person in one commercial can have such a lasting impact for so many people, so i just want to let you know.  

Now I’ve read of some of the other work that you are doing and i’m even more impressed with how extremely talented you are.  i wish you all the best in your future endeavors, and thank you for being the wonderful dancer that you are!

I am still amazed that a male dancer had such an effect on me that I never forgot it.

I Love Fred Willard!

Fred Willard has always been one of my favorites.  I first became a fan while watching the talk show parody “Fernwood 2 Night” (which later changed its title to “America 2-Night”) on Nick at Nite with my brother.

Martin Mull, who played the host of the fictional late night talk show, was so funny, truly great, but Fred Willard was, if possible, even better.  Perfect.  He was mine and my brother’s favorite part of the already hysterical show.

Fred Willard has shown his amazing comedic talents in everything he’s been in.  He was my favorite part of “A Mighty Wind,” and I loved that entire movie and every song.  I even faithfully watched a show that no one else saw, called “Maybe It’s Me,” simply because Fred Willard played the dad.  He was, of course, hilarious in the role.

Obviously, I’m writing about Fred Willard at this time because he was recently arrested for “engaging in a lewd act” at Tiki Theatre in California.  Now, it is no surprise that people go to Tiki Theatre to watch porn and masturbate.   That is known.

So why would cops waste their valuable time arresting someone who may have been masturbating at a porn theater?  Don’t they have better things to do, real crimes to investigate?

Yes, I know that under California Penal Code 647, it is against the law to publicly engage in lewd acts.  Presumably such a law is in place to protect the larger public from being subjected to such a lewd act.  However, is a porn theater really considered a public place where lewd acts would be offensive to those in such a venue?

Anyone who is offended by someone masturbating likely would not go to a theater that shows porn.  Whether Mr. Willard did or did not “engage in a lewd act” at the theater (and given that no one else was arrested, the only lewd act that comes to mind is masturbation), is not important.  He was at a porn theater.  Who cares if he was masturbating?  Isn’t that what people do at porn theaters?  Or should do, at any rate?

Police arresting someone masturbating at a porn theater reminds me of my jobs in the sex industry, where there’s frequently the nervous undercurrent of fear of an undercover cop showing up and busting everyone.

But that should not be a fear.  Voluntary sex work, especially in the controlled indoor venues where I’ve worked, should be legalized.  No one in the public space is affected, for the sex all happens indoors.

Anyone paying to attend a sex party knows that they are likely to see sex acts performed, and most people expect to actually participate.  They may not realize that we girls are paid to have sex with the party attendees, but it doesn’t matter.  No one is harmed by what goes on at these parties.  There is no reason for me and the other girls to have to worry that we could be arrested merely for having sex for money.

Likewise, anyone should lawfully be able to freely masturbate in a porn theater. The movies shown in a porn theater would not be shown at your corner AMC theater.  And the customers at a porn theater understand that – they are paying for porn.

Somehow this country’s laws need to evolve when it comes to matters of sex.

Regardless, Fred Willard, the gifted comedian, will now likely always have this pointless and stupid arrest tied to his name, even if he is later cleared.  Truly, I’m ashamed that he was arrested for something so ridiculous, something that should not even be a crime.

Two Hours with the Handsome Young Man at Onie’s on Tuesday, March 8, 2011 – written March 10, 2011

After Robert Hannibal left, I wanted the next two hours to pass quickly.  When I went back into the bar area, I saw the handsome young man standing against a wall.  I introduced myself to him, asking if it was his first time here, and how he found out about it.  I told him I always ask people that.  It’s part of my journalistic nature.


The handsome young man, “Hans,” told me he’d found this place on Craigslist – most guys tell me that.  Apparently, “PR,” the promoter, posts regularly on CL about the wild sex party going on at “Onie’s” club, and that’s how all these guys find out about it.  But Hans told me if he hadn’t seen me, he would have gone home.  A lot of guys tell me that.


Not that the other girls at Onie’s are unattractive.   It’s just that I’m considered the most attractive, though in real life I’m definitely not among the most attractive girls in New York.  No way!  Everyday I see really stunning, beautiful, gorgeous girls.   Everyday.


Hans is seriously probably the best-looking guy I have ever seen in my entire life.  However, Hans is not only very handsome in the traditional manly sense, with a legitimate abdominal six-pack, pectoral muscles, handsome face, broad shoulders, etc. but he is very smart.  I really enjoyed talking with him.  When I told him I was a Journalism grad student at [my school], he told me he has friends in the law school at [my school].  He had gone to Brown for undergrad, and was planning on going to med school soon.


He could figure out that the others girls and I were getting paid to work here, and he asked why I do it.  I told him I like having extra money and it’s not a big deal for me to have sex, as long as my rules are followed – no hand-jobs or blow-jobs.


I had a lot of fun with Hans.  We had sex a total of four times, and after the first time he said it was the most intense orgasm he’d had in a couple weeks.  I said, “a couple weeks?” And he said, “okay, maybe months.”  I don’t know if that was really true or if he thought I would like to hear it because of my job.


But truth be told, guys tell me that all the time.  And I don’t know if it’s really true or they’re just saying it.  It doesn’t matter – I don’t get extra money if they have an intense orgasm.  Regardless, I still don’t do anything.  I just lie there, either front or back.  I’m not going to do any more work than is required of me in this job.


With Hans, however, since he was so good-looking, I let him kiss me also and make out with me.   Sometimes I do let the better-looking guys kiss me – it just depends on what kind of mood I’m in.  Still, the only guy I really like kissing is Robert Hannibal!


But Hans was really fun.  I admitted to him that I really only like girls but met the first guy I’ve ever been attracted to at this job.  I told him it was Robert Hannibal, and that he was the guy I was walking out with when Hans entered.


I told Hans I really want more experience with girls, and asked if he knew any girls that would have a threesome with me and him, and he said he did.  He said he would definitely arrange some threesomes for us.  I was so excited!  Hans being so good-looking, I knew the girls would be beautiful!


He asked if he could get my contact information, but I said it would be better to wait until I get off work at 11pm.  We girls could get in trouble if anyone saw us giving out our contact information.


Now, after the first time we had sex, Hans and I had sex two more times, with him carrying me to different areas of the room for sex.  By this time it was 10:30pm, and Onie’s nephew, “Nephew,” who works at the club, told me Onie wanted to see me.   When Nephew left, I said to Hans, “How do they think no one will figure out we’re getting paid when they come up to us like that?”  Hans just laughed.  He walked out with me and I went into Onie’s office alone.


Onie said it was a slow night and I could go home now if I wanted.  I was worried I wouldn’t get as much pay if I left even half an hour early, but Onie said I would.  I went out and told Hans I could leave early but didn’t want to lose any pay.  Hans picked me up and carried me over to the swing where we had sex.


At 11pm, it was time to go and I was still with Hans.  We had had sex four times between 9pm and 11pm, talking and kissing throughout.  He really is very smart and very good-looking.  And I was so excited to think of the girls he would get me for threesomes.


I told Hans I had to shower and change, and then I would give him my contact information, and it should only take me a few minutes.  But Onie wanted to talk to me and brought me into his office.


Onie said the other girls had complained that I spent the whole night with only two guys and they had to do all the work for the rest of the guys.  “But you said yourself it was a slow night,” I said, though, to be honest, since I’d been with Robert Hannibal and Hans the whole time, I hadn’t noticed it was slow.  “So it’s not like they had to do so much extra.”


Onie said I still could have had at least one or two other guys and I said, “No.”  I explained that when Robert Hannibal is here, I want to spend all my time with him.  I told Onie that Robert Hannibal takes me to couples-only clubs and I really like him and only want to be with him when he’s here, and that it’s not fair to ask me not to be with him when I like him so much.


Onie said, “Okay, but after he left, you were only with one guy.”  I told Onie that normally I do a lot of work and guys are waiting in line for me.  He admitted that this was true.  “When I find a guy that’s good-looking and smart and I want to spend my time with him, I deserve this because I am with so many other guys all the other nights,” I told Onie.


He agreed with me, but just asked me not to do this too often.  He paid me the same as he usually pays me, perhaps knowing that I would have thrown a fit if I’d been paid less than normal.


But by the time I’d left Onie’s office, I realized I’d been in there nearly 20 minutes and Hans was gone!  I was so sad.  I wish I had gotten his contact information before I went into Onie’s office but I didn’t know I’d be talking with Onie so long.


I hope Hans comes back.  It’s so nice to be with a good-looking and smart guy, and I really wanted to have the threesomes with him and the girls he knows.  He would be my best chance to have hot threesomes.   Plus, he’s just a really great guy.


But somehow I know he won’t be back.   He’s so good-looking, girls will probably do anything he says and he can organize his own orgies and threesomes.  He doesn’t need me at all.  But I really need him.  I don’t know anyone I can have orgies or threesomes with, other than going to swing parties.


So I feel really sad.


I’m also really sad because yesterday in the airport before our class left, I texted Robert Hannibal to ask if there was any way I could see him on the 21st when we get back into the city, since he and his family are leaving the very next day for their vacation.  He texted back: “Have a great trip.  That night would be rough; have to pack and have an early flight.”


This means I won’t see Robert Hannibal for at least a month, as I’ll be in Israel these ten days and then as soon as I get back, he’ll be in the DR for two weeks.  I miss him already.


It is funny because most girls would miss Hans and not Robert Hannibal.  Hans is the typical good-looking guy.  He’s young, handsome, has a perfect man’s body.  Robert Hannibal is a little older and, although handsome, not as traditionally handsome as Hans, and Robert Hannibal has a little bit of a belly.   Hans has a six-pack.


Sex with Hans is wild, and most girls would probably choose sex with him over Robert Hannibal.  But not me.  I feel something with Robert Hannibal that no other guy can get me to feel.  Even someone as handsome as Hans.



Robert Hannibal is who I prefer.  To me, it is not even a contest.  If I am being paid to have sex with men, then naturally I am going to choose the best-looking and smartest guys at Onie’s, and with Robert Hannibal gone, Hans clearly was the next best choice.  But if I could choose who I really want to be with, who I love, who I’m attracted to, the answer is easily Robert Hannibal.


I miss Hans for the possibilities of orgies and threesomes with beautiful girls.  But I miss Robert Hannibal for him.


Logically, I can tell Hans is better-looking than Robert Hannibal.  Hans is who I should be attracted to.  But I’m not attracted to him.  I’m attracted to Robert Hannibal. I love Robert Hannibal.