James West made me gay. Well, I suppose it was Robert Conrad playing James West in “Wild, Wild West” that made me gay. Well, it was probably the frequent appearances of Robert Conrad shirtless, often tied up and tortured, that made me gay (and into domination!).
Just to be clear, I wasn’t old enough to see the original run of Wild, Wild West. I caught it in one of its endless rerun cycles. Even as a young kid, I remember being in complete awe of Conrad. Every episode was guaranteed to feature him with his tight pants showing off that fantastic ass. And every so often, not infrequently, he’d be captured by some evil genius, forced out of his shirt, and tied up to endure threats of destruction.
Conrad had a chiseled jaw, hot-n-hairy pecs, and a tight six pack plunging down the high-rise pants he always wore. He was a tight little package with a drop-dead gorgeous face. Just to look at him in stills would have been subject for a wet dream, but to see him struggle against his bonds, to squirm and flinch in pain, to be captured and (at least temporarily) under the dominating control of an evil nemesis… yep, I owe a lot of what I am today to James West, via the beautiful suffering-stylings of Robert Conrad.
The producers clearly understood what we tuned in to see, putting him back on the small screen for a couple of perpetually shirtless seasons of Baa Baa Black Sheep. Another decade later, I had such high hopes when I saw him again in the pilot for High Mountain Rangers, costarring his hottie sons, Shane and Christian.
Sadly, High Mountain Rangers had no traction, and Robert did little else on screen after that. Happily, the image of James West, his wrists tied behind his back, his shirtless, hairy chest flexing and struggling, those tight pants hugging every curve of that rocking butt… very happily, that image remains seared in my memory as the thrilling inspiration to a young gay boy’s imagination.
Sidelineland 
I simply cannot believe how in sync our kinks are, Bard. Not only do I now own all the recently released dvds of THE WILD WILD WEST, not only did I beat off to a TV GUIDE (I think) photo of RC in tight swim trunks holding a barbell, but … I met the man himself in the early to mid-seventies in Miami, where I was working a summer job with the Coast Guard (as a civilian file clerk) and taking my lunches daily at a nearby downtown hotel. While standing in line to pay my bill one day, I heard what sounded like a bad John Wayne imitation right behind me. I turned around, and there was my childhood hero and amour from many a steamy fantasy well into my young adulthood (involving fighting and b&d–RC used to string up REAL good shirtless), and then … I cannot live with the shame, Bard … I blurted out, "You're short." Right then I could have just eaten my heart. He, in turn, chuckled good-naturedly and said, "Yeah, I guess I am." I was so mortified not only to have criticized a god of my childhood but also to have spoken such a lame cliche. But, DAMN, he was hot man, and I know I'm not the only fan who PRAYED before every episode of TWWW for James West to go shirtless–and get in a wrasslin match with some strapping henchman.
Yep. Reading your blog makes me thing we must have been twins separated at birth. Talking to Robert Conrad in the 70's is such a fan-freaking-tastic brush with fame! I'm completely jealous! My running into Jeff Jarrett in a gas station food mart and spotting Tom Skerritt at a shopping mall are totally lame by comparison! I noticed that James West's villains were often people of short stature, which was probably by design considering Conrad is shorter than your average hollywood heart-throb. I still have a particular soft/hard spot for short muscle-studs (e.g., Derek DaSilva), I'm sure entirely due to my worship of Robert Conrad.