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It wasn't until a few years after Albert died, after the depression and the spontaneous outbursts of tears subsided, that Logg thought of dating again. But it wouldn't be the same as when he met and fell in love with Albert, when both were in their 20s. Logg was now a senior citizen, and nothing made him realize his years more than heading back into the singles scene. His friends tried to introduce him to other gentlemen his age, but there were no sparks.
"They were nice guys, but they were old men," Logg says. "I said, 'No thanks, forget it.' I'm not going to bed with some old man."
Going out was worse. Logg's friends preferred the Twin Peaks bar, a Castro institution that is now dubbed the "crystal coffin." A giant, picture window wraps around the front of the bar; patrons look out at markedly younger passers-by on the street.
"It's a bunch of old farts sitting in the window who can't do anything but talk about their ailments, pop pills, and eat bananas," Logg says. "It pulls you down."
Wanting to reclaim his youth and able to spend plenty of money trying, Logg entered the world of trophy boys. He didn't want to rattle around in his big house alone and become an old maid. His friends thought he was crazy.
"They said the kids would either kill me in bed or rip me off," Logg says. "But I've been pretty lucky. I've never really had anyone put the hustle on me. I know a lot of them are out there just for the money, but none of my boys have asked, 'How much are you going to pay me?'
"Which is nice."
Of course, when his trophy boys are attentive, Logg is generous. He has no family to share his wealth and, at his age, feels it's just going to waste sitting in the bank. He figures he might as well find something worthwhile -- and fun -- to spend it on.
"If you got the money, and it makes the kids happy, and they're pleasing you, why not?" Logg reasons. "I like to see a kid in a nice jacket, and if I feel they are deserving, I'll pay their rent and help them through school, too. Being with me sure beats having to work at Taco Bell for $4 an hour."
Logg's 23-year-old boyfriend declined to be interviewed. Logg says he is shy and leery of the shame others might project on him for being kept. At the same time, Logg contends the young man is not embarrassed by a relationship with a 70-year-old.
"I feel the affection from him, and that he really wants to be with me," Logg says. "We'll be walking alone in a straight neighborhood, and he'll still want to put his arm around me. It must be a Beauty and the Beast thing."
Actually, with his piercing blue eyes and full head of strawberry blond hair, Logg does not look, or act, anything like his age. He is passionate about yoga and can do seven-minute handstands. He wears tennis shoes and power walks with quick strides. His conversation is animated, propelled by bursts of energy.
Logg says his boyfriend enjoys hearing about his life's adventures and experiences, and has even asked to record them. It's enough to make Logg believe there is something more meaningful about the relationship than sex for him and money for the kid.
"There's been a void since Albert died, and now I have someone to care for," Logg says. "And you'd be surprised how many young kids are attracted to older men, whether they have money or not, simply because they want a father figure. They feel they can benefit from what we've been through."
There is, indeed, a generational cycle affecting trophy boys and their sugar daddies.
Almost 50 years ago, when Logg was in his 20s, an older man took an interest in him. The well-established San Francisco lawyer, then 60 years old, was closeted, but still wined and dined his young protege, giving him gifts and teaching him about sex. Logg was impressed by the man's knowledge and travels, and found his stories about business and insider politics fascinating.
"I just want my boys to experience what I had," Logg says. "And while they can't give back now, maybe they'll take a hint at what I'm trying to accomplish."
Jay, the trophy boy, knows exactly what Logg means.
"They lavish you with gifts and mold you until you reach a certain age, and then they let you out in the world," Jay says, matter-of-factly. But hearing this quick synopsis from his own lips makes him pause. He begins to reflect on what he's just said, almost with apprehension.
"Someday," he says finally, a hint of disconcerted wonder in his voice, "you become what they are.