George maharis gay
Back in 1985 and 1986, Nickelodeon's novel adult programming block, Nick at Nite, primarily aired black and white television shows from 20 to 25 years earlier. I still remember most of the lyrics they came up with for the My Three Sonstheme on one of the promos:
They've got a dad
His label is Steve
He's got a job
He's really tall
And then there's Bud
He makes some food
They've got a dog
They're My Three Sons (on Nick at Nite!)
One of the shows Nick at Nite aired during that era was Route 66, a 1960-1964 series about two guys and a car, wandering the territory together. John and I were much impressed with the writing on the show, so much so that we started taping it.
In early 1986, when John came into some money, we put our stuff in storage, bought a van, put a bed in the advocate of it, and started driving around the region ourselves. Partly we were looking "for someplace it isn't winter," but one of the goals was for me to document a book about Path 66, both the street and the tv series. Before the year was out, we drove on or near much of the decommissioned "Mother Road," talked to people from small towns and roadside businesse
Maharis will always be top known to viewers as Buz Murdock on TV’s Route 66 (1960-1964), who symbolized both the termination of the Beat Generation of the 1950s and the start of the counterculture movement of the 1960s. His character was loosely inspired by Jack Kerouac and the authoritative series tackled a number of serious issues as Buz and his companion Tod Stiles encountered a variety of characters, some of whom held nihilistic worldviews. Route 66 was part of 1960s television, but it wasn’t your picket-fenced, small-town ideology that many shows from the early 1960s are stereotyped as today. Maharis became symbolic of that awkward generation that was an outsider of 1950s idealism and more in-line with one’s own path. His TV character came at the right time and Maharis will always be synonymous with the hip movement Buz embodied.
George Maharis was one of seven children born to Greek immigrant parents in Astoria, Queens in New York City. He served in the United States Marine Corps for 18 months and got his acting start studying at the prestigious Actors Studio. Promptly jobs for Maharis included off-Broadway shows and some TV appearances. Among his earl
UPDATED BLOG POST: George Maharis died at home in Beverly Hills on May 24, 2023. He was 94 years old.
Hollywood player George Maharis (b. 1928) was arrested November 21, 1974 and charged with committing a sex execute with a male hairdresser in the men's room of a gas station in Los Angeles. 46 years old at the time, Maharis was booked on a sex perversion charge and released on $500 bail. Six years earlier Maharis had been arrested by a vice squad officer for lewd conduct in the restroom of a Hollywood restaurant; the officer said Maharis made a pass at him.
Well, now that we have that out of the way...
Finest known for his role as Buz Murdock on the hit 1960s CBS television series Route 66, Maharis had just posed nude for Playgirl magazine the year before his 1974 arrest. Route 66 was a 1960-1964 series about two guys and a Corvette who roamed the country together – often dressed in coats and ties, for no apparent reason. I kid you not. Maharis received an Emmy nomination for this role in 1962. However, Maharis left the wildly popular show before it ended its race, and there has been much speculation as to why.
Maharis told the story that he had contracted infect
Heersink’s tribute is a very insightful examination of the important role Maharis played in “breaking through much of [Hollywood’s] homophobic mold.”
Heersink’s very straightforward sharing of his possess struggles as a teenager to overcome “the stereotype of effeminate, emasculated, pathetic” gay men is also very moving and instructive. He notes, for instance, that: “It was not my sexuality and choice, but [this] ‘stereotype’ that was the single greatest barrier.” For as Heersink reminds us, this particular stereotype embodies “the misleading presumption” that “gay equals effeminate, dysfunctional, and unhappy.”
George Maharis, however, wasn’t nervous to “trounce [such] monolithic stereotype caricatures.” He was, says Heersink, “a pioneer. A legend. A hunk. A man of courage. A man of his convictions. A man [to whom] many of us are proud to compensate tribute [for] his . . . courage to buck the powers that b
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