Lust, we all know, is such a nuisance, particularly for gay men who, like myself, came of age during the 1970s. Ruth Gordon, in the movie "Harold and Maude," summed up the era best when she said, "I see a flower, and I reach out and pluck it." The flowers were everywhere back then, in subway men's rooms, parks, cheap apartments, street corners, bars, baths and clubs, plucking and being plucked. Casual sex with a good-looking stranger was more than just a lonely night's expedience. It was both personal and political liberation, an empowering antidote to having been disenfranchised from society, the ultimate self-esteem booster (or destroyer, if one was rebuffed). Lust was something to be discharged, and on a daily basis. Chronic, unsatisfied lust was for losers. Flower power -- pollinate me!

Next page: Removing the mental condom of the 1980s.