I still owe a great deal of info about my two week vacation and then we can get back to my day to day diatribes.
My Summer Vacation by Lawrence
I finally pulled into Indy in the noonish hour and was immediately whisked off to lunch and a movie with my mother and sister. We went to see Fahrenheit 9/11. Now let me say a few words about my hometown, Greenwood. The city was mostly a farming community until the white flight of the late sixties and early seventies that created urban sprawl. It remains a very conservative, WHITE area, quiet and clean. My mother refers to it as "Camelot". We all doubted that any of republican G-wood would desire to see such hideous propaganda as Fahrenheit 9/11 and half expected an empty theater. Keep in mind that one of the most vile congressmen serving today is from my hometown, Dan Burton. Dan hates just about everybody but queers are among his favorite targets. Even worse, Danny boy has a brother who is even more putrid and nasty than he is who currently serves in the Indiana House. ANYWAY, off to the movies we scamper. AMC theaters just built a huge multi-plex at the local mall, a cookie cutter theater, seemingly like any other one in the country. When we were going into the theatre, I noticed the security officer standing there, but thought nothing about his presence. What business doesn't have security these days. Halfway through the movie I was leaving to go to the bathroom when I realized the officer, who turned out to be not a security guard, but an official ARMED Greenwood Officer, sitting inside the theater. I was sort of bewildered about this and so when I left I approached who I thought was the manager and began to ask a few questions. Another woman had beaten me to the punch and was trying to get some answers from "Tim", who must have been in charge, he was wearing a tie for gods sake. Every question we asked was met with a question in response, such as "Who hired this person?" "Well don't you think our theater should have a security guard here?". It was all very circular with Tim becoming more evasive and belligerent as the conversation wore on. Finally I asked him, since he obviously had no answers and was a complete buffoon, who I might speak too that actually had some authority. He briskly handed me a pre-printed "Enjoying the Show? We want to know" card with the address of the company and a 1-800 number. I asked him who the REAL manager of the theater was and he gave me the name Davin Clous. When I asked him HIS name he pushed his little laminated ID badge at me and said "TIM!". I asked his last name and he said "that's all you need to know, I'm not talking about this any longer" and stalked off after checking the level of popcorn oil in his popper.
I spent the next few days visiting with friends and socially drinking at some of Indy's hot spots like the Metro and English Ivy's. My sister asked me to go with her to a softball game that was being played by the staffers of the Micro-brew restaurant where she had previously worked. She told me we were going there to heckle and have fun. Obviously my brand of heckling (including screaming "small strike zone" at a midget type person) was more than what they were wanting, so I was shushed. Nothing else much exciting went on and then Thursday I was off to Michigan to camp.
The camp ground had changed a lot since my last visit some six years ago. They have added a pool and several new camping areas. We were there early but there were already a lot of campers and we met a lot of nice folks. After deciding on a site we made camp, fixed a cocktail and set off for adventures. The first night was fun but I hit the hay early, cuddled up in my extremely oversized air mattress in my huge tent.
Friday the rest of our campers arrived along with a TON of other people, so the campground was very full. Somehow I managed to meet most of them in our traveling parties (at night it's common for the campers to go around to other campfires and visit with folks). Saturday we all decided to head into town for a while and check out the shops. Saugatuck has a lot of fun stores like hoopdee scootee, tons of art galleries and the like. We didn't spend much time there as it was very busy and well, because some of the people I was with were in-fighting and bitching. I guess it was just easier to go back to camp. We planned to go back into town later that night for dinner and then we would be off to the farm party! Back at camp some of us hit the pool and played water volleyball and then I settled down for a quick nap. It started to rain a little bit but by the time we got to town for dinner it was a downpour. My friend Jonathon and I made complete asses of ourselves (okay, I made a complete ass of myself) fawning over the two straight boys at the store next to the restaurant, but I did buy a new toe ring. After dinner, and with the rain still pouring down, we decided to skip Saturday nights outdoor farm party and headed instead to the gay bar/resort called the Dunes. A large place, the dunes houses a few different dance floors, a lounge type bar and a cabaret. We went to the cabaret show but I cannot tell you the name of the entertainer, I immediately blocked out her name. The show was sooooo terrible, I mean terrible with a capital F. I told my friends, "I have to use the restroom somewhere else in this building."
The rain seemed to slow about 2 am and we decided to head back to camp-it, change clothes and go to the other party. There was a lot of standing water around the campground. I think mostly due to the building of the pool the rest of the camp seems to be on a bit of a slope. When I popped into my tent I was greeted with a very large "Splash" sound of the massive amount of water in my tent. EVERYTHING was wet. The next two or three hours were spent trying to wash and dry my belongings to no avail. I finally submitted to fate and slept in my car the rest of the night. My tent-mates, also rained out, packed up their wet things early in the morning and we decided to drive back to Indianapolis.
Tuesday night I again headed to metro for Karaoke hosted by my friend Danny (Dannon). All in all my trip was great just for getting to see so many old friends. Now when I say old friends it really is meant to be two fold...When did we all get so old? I find it unbelievable that I will be 33 in 9 days. (packages may be mailed to French Quarter Postal Emporium, 1000 Bourbon Street, New Orleans, LA 70116). In all seriousness, it seems like only yesterday that I was turning 23. This year should be my fifteen year high school reunion. I did go to my ten year reunion but I figure that to be the last one. Center Grove class of '89 alumni probably won't miss me.
Back to my vacation. Wednesday I went to Paramounts Kings Island in Cincinnati Ohio. My sister went along (Happy Birthday Polly!) as well as my two friends Jason and Michael. I cannot imagine a better group of all my Indiana friends to put together for such a trip. We all laughed and carried on so much that my stomach was sore all the next day. The highlight had to be the fat girls in line for the scooby doo haunted mansion committing destruction by eating of a funnel cake. Jason correctly described the event as "all you saw was hooves and teeth". The only thing that would have made the day better would have been for the ping twins to be there. (for those of you that don't know who the ping twins are, it's a private reference meant for certain readers of this page).
I had been gone nearly two weeks and it was time to head home. Two friends from Indy planned to follow me back down to N.O. and spend a few days. We had walkie talkies which made our drive great, being able to make comments about everything from the scenery to the moronic drivers of Tennessee. Other than that our trip back was mostly un-eventful save trying to stop for some dinner in Alabama. Bessemer Alabama has several exits and we chose the wrong one, twice. Seriously I have never seen such racially motivated depression type housing since I watched Good Times as a child. Luckily for all of us the gang warfare of the area seemed to be sated for the time being and we ate quickly and took off for the interstate. We pulled into New Orleans in good time, about 12 hours. As I neared the turn to take me into the French quarter from Rampart street I saw a robbery on the street and I knew I was home.
