If you went to Pure on Friday August 15th for The Boys of Summer party you probably got to play with a nice pair…a nice pair of beach balls that is! The weekend was pretty much gayer than Christmas as the actual competition started after 12am on August 16th. That’s right fellas’ Madonna’s birthday! I am sure she would approve of it taking place then. I however – not having been to one of these events – expected The Boys of Summer party and swimsuit competition to be a washout. Hadn’t we just inaugurated Mr Gay Philadelphia on the 8th? Who had time for more hot, scantily clad men?

Everyone apparently.

The place was packed, filled with guys in swimsuits intending to compete and others who just wanted a chance to show off their swimsuit on the dance floor. There were others in more modest attire, wearing their best summer shirts and jeans, playfully kicking beach balls at each other. Then of course I saw the AussieBum Lifeguards and understood why this was such a packed event! About a dozen men in bathing suits provided by the swimsuit and underwear manufacturer were on the stage dancing and trying to get the whole group in the mood by pulling club guests in swimsuits up with them. This was of course tantalizing but not as tantalizing as the concept that everyone’s entrance fee goes on to support this very online magazine!

Yes, like everyone else I do not mind a little bit of skin (or a lot). I did however take the whole event with a grain of salt, initially. What I mean to say is I feared the Aussie Lifeguards and the man chosen would be beautiful men without…much more to offer. I firmly believe as gay men we have to admire people as much for their pride, intelligence and accomplishments as well as their beauty. Furthermore, after living in NYC for 7 years and frequenting Chelsea I harbor a latent fear that anyone who has time to spend 6-8 hours a week at the gym cannot offer much in the way of much else. “Nice house, nobody home,” if you know that phrase. Sorry, I know it’s an awful stereotype but I was quickly made to realize I was wrong: pleasantly wrong. Thanks to a brief chat I had with one of the AussieBum Lifeguards, Frank Calabrese, where I learned the tall, well-toned Italian-American is a graduate of Rutgers Law. In effect, he can save you from drowning and perhaps sue the beach.

In terms of the winner of The Boys of Summer Derek Roberts a recent-hire trainer at the 12th St Gym also challenged my perception of such a…hottie. The 27 year old is both a veteran of the gym and a veteran in terms of service to the United States Army. I spoke with him about his win and about what he had to offer beyond a great set of…everything.

“I was a specialist in the army for three and a half years, and was all-state football and wrestling before that,” he said proudly. “So I have been into fitness as long as I can remember,” he told me a few days after winning the competition. He still holds a bit of his military roots as his hair is very closely cropped. I am sure this fulfilled the fantasies of several audience members and participants alike. He also said – an ode to modesty fitting a former soldier – he didn’t think he would win the competition and was already on his way out when his name was called. He had already covered his AussieBum Swimsuit and physique, intent on leaving. “I was shocked to hear my name called,” he said. Derek claims to have thoroughly enjoyed the competition and after such exposure no doubt looks forward to a full roster of new clients at the 12th Street Gym wanting to tone up like a soldier. I did simply have to ask him if the event was typical of other pageants. Was there any scheming backstage? Were there scenes of antagonism, pettiness or jealousy? In sum, were other contestants bitchy towards each other?

“No, all the guys were friendly. Remember, this wasn’t a sponsored event like Mr. Gay, everyone signed up on their own.” I was vaguely disappointed to hear that. Perhaps I have seen Drop Dead Gorgeous one too many times. He did compete – and represent his gym – in that event, perhaps he implies there was bitchiness at that event. I can only hope!

If you missed this year’s event there are roughly 365 days until next year’s Boys of Summer Party. This gives you plenty of time to A) hit the gym and B) pick out what swimsuit you’ll be showing off next year. As two very dear gay friends from high school days and I have recently begun to call each other fat (‘gay fat,’ not ‘straight fat’) whenever we go to their family cabin on the Chesapeake Bay as a means of goading ourselves back to the gym maybe the three of us will happily attend in our swimsuits next year.