Porn Valley- David Christopher aka “Pussyman” is laughing, telling me how he’s driving a soccer mom car. Christopher picks me up for lunch, and, sure enough, he’s driving a soccer mom car.
Christopher recommends this place which he’s very big on, but the cramped shopping center off of Ventura Blvd.’s full of old Jewish broads in black Mercedes who won’t pull out of their spots to give you a break. After waiting on one broad who, for spite, decides to sit behind the wheel and chat on her cell phone, Christopher finally finds another place to park.
Meanwhile, he’s bringing me up to speed on what’s going on in his life. Christopher, now 55, has moved back to the Valley from the Marina and is living at TT Boy’s old place.
Christopher’s also telling me how he almost married the big-titted redhead stripper/porn star Santa Fey [pictured]. The day they were supposed to get hitched, Christopher’s father died. Which was probably a portent of good fortune. [Christopher also tells me how his mother had a secret first marriage his father never knew about- great paperback novel stuff.]
Judging by other things Christopher has to say, his prospective nuptials would have been a disaster, anyway. And Christopher’s laughing about how Santa Fey’s father is this redneck right winger who’d shoot guns off his front porch to kill birds. And, then, when Christopher would hit him with his own brand of liberal politics it wasn’t looking too good, for future fathers-in-law and mutually shared NFL Sunday afternoons. Other things intervened, too, but that gets extremely personal.
During lunch, Christopher, who’s from Boston by way of New York, and I, from Philadelphia, trade stories. They’re about scumbags and deals-gone-horribly wrong in the adult business. And we’ve got enough history in years to know what we’re talking about. Christopher’s had his share of experiences. I’ve had mine, and somewhere in between we’ve been bit in the ass by the same louse or two. In 1993, I did a cameo in his first Pussyman feature- a decision I have since regretted but nothing to do with Christopher. [On the other hand, I was spectacular in Wendy Whoppers, Brain Surgeon.]
But many Pussyman movies later, even Christopher’s ready for something different. Noting Mitch Spinelli’s decision to shoot for the internet first, ask DVD questions later, Christopher’s following suit.
Christopher has always called me “Model”- which comes from Rick Martell and the fact that Christopher and I shared this common ground for professional wrestling. We once collaborated on a production called Nude World Order. It’s really good except Christopher remembers getting resoundly criticized for it being too much with the insider slant. I tell Christopher about an anal movie I directed called Great American Ass which got blistered by some morons because it included foot fetish in it. Which brings us to another subject.
The fact that Christopher’s now shooting foot fetish for his website, www.pussyman.com. Tarot cards or not, this is something I never would have seen coming, and the lunch meeting’s developing into this whirl of bewildering moral complexity. On top of that, the Pussyman tells me he’s switching gears- and personal tastes- even more.
“Model,” says Christopher in a confessional tone of voice. “I like big asses now.”
Since I’ve known him, Christopher’s always had this thing for tits and pussies, and I’m thrown for a complete loop. In porn’s era of change, even Christopher’s directions have re-routed, and Christopher wonders if this is an old guy-thing. I tell him it probably is, although I personally think there’s other reasons to account for this as well.
Later, Christopher takes me on a tour of his house which you’d have to say is on the order of a Lake Tahoe hunting lodge- spacious, full of sunlight, comfortable, woodsy and reeking of testosterone. By no means is this your typical Valley dwelling, and that was the selling point for Christopher’s moving back to pornville.
According to Christopher, TT Boy developed quite a rep in the neighborhood for the raucous antics, but Christopher manages to keep it extremely low key. It’s an old guy-thing.
Christopher then points out another house a couple of doors down. Sean Ricks had it for awhile, and from the way I hear it, subtlety and discretion weren’t exactly Ricks’ strong suits, either.
It’s a young guy-thing.