Unfortunately, they didn’t have Broadway Bares back in the days of Ethel Merman. That might have turned me gay even sooner. But nowadays, the annual bash is a sweaty, writhing spectacle of hot bods that has long provided a welcome part of choreographer/director Jerry Mitchell‘s body of work, as it were—AND it’s raised kazillions of dollars for Broadway Cares/Equity Fights AIDS in the process. And now, all that naked flesh has somehow morphed into a very heavy coffee table book. Backstage Pass (Rizzoli; June 22) is shaping up as a nipply, butt-cracky peek into all the clotheless magic that has long made Broadway stand up and explode. My favorite part of the book description: “It includes as little text as costumes worn in the show.” Sounds like my kind of read! But if you’re looking for those lost Merman nudes, look elsewhere–maybe in Ernest Borgnine‘s upcoming book?