September 2007

Out In The Park.

Note: I wrote a blog entry about this adventure last night, but for some reason my ISP decided to restore the hard disk the site lives on and they wiped it out, along with several other files I uploaded last night. I apologize if you experience deja vu while reading this.

So yesterday Earl and I joined my high school friend Scott and his partner Mark for “Out In The Park” at Six Flags New England. Here’s a little blurb from the Out In The Park website.

Out In The Park is a Gay Day event organized by a not-for-profit organization. We are a dedicated group of unity-minded people that are interested in creating events that are fun, all-ages, social opportunities for the Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgender, Questioning, Intersex and Allies community to Get OUT with their friends and family.

The events that we plan and organize are warm-up events to National Coming Out Day on October 11th. Our first event, Out In The Park, was held on Saturday, September 27, 1997, at what was then known as Riverside Park (now Six Flags New England). The focus of the events we plan and organize, is to foster a sense of pride, dignity and unity among the gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, questioning and intersex community and their allies through social and cultural events to promote diversity, visibility, awareness and acceptance throughout the New England region.

First the backstory. Scott and I were the best friends in high school. We went camping together, we went canoeing together, we had the same interests, we even shared a girlfriend (but not in a kinky way, ewwww). Around December 1988 we lost touch with each other. At the True Colors concert in Boston back in June we ran into each other and vowed to stay in touch. Summer schedules are very busy, so this was our weekend to catch up. Here’s a picture of us.

Scott and John

On Saturday night we met up in Hartford (after choosing between Hartford and Springfield, Mass. for a place to spend the night) and went to a place called “City Steam Brewery Cafe”. A brewery and cafe (hence the name), City Steam is a really great place to hang out in Hartford. The food was delicious, my one glass of beer was excellent (all beer is brewed by the owners) and the conversation was great. I highly recommend City Steam.

After dinner we walked and drove around Hartford a bit. We debated going to a movie but ended up at Club Polo, a local drag bar. We left before the show but we had a few drinks and just talked and talked and talked.

Yesterday we went to Six Flags, got our special Out In The Park wristband that got us into the picnic lunch and show if we wanted and then hit the rides.

Mark is a bit of a roller coaster nut, so the first ride up was Superman. I ended up riding in the front seat by myself and while the ride was quite enjoyable, it was the most harrowing of roller coaster rides I had ever been on. I loved it. I felt like I was hovering a little bit when I tried to walk away from the ride.

After Superman we went over to Scream, which is like Disney’s Tower of Terror but outside and facing away from a tower with two other people, so you have the sense of nothing around you. Freefall is fun with friends! Here’s a picture of Mark and I and a young girl that got to hear me scream.

Scream

We then headed over to the picnic grove where there was an Out In The Park picnic lunch. There were a couple of cool things about Out In The Park. First of all, it was an official Six Flags event. Secondly, because of the traveling to bear events, Hillside, etc. that Earl and I tend to do, we ran into quite a few people that we’ve met along our adventures. This prompted Scott to comment that we get around. Well!

I tried to take my first self-snapped photo of four, but it didn’t work out so well.

Close.

So a nice man offered to take a photo of us near the fountain at the picnic grove.

Fountain.

After the lunch we went back to the rides. After an extremely bumpy ride on one of the wooden roller coasters, Mark found the ride we wanted to do. I had noticed this ride earlier in the day, which looked like a giant spatula with too ends that someone would flip end over end in the air. I called it “The Spatula” or “The Fly Swatter”. Turns out its called The Catapault. Mark wanted to ride so we sent him on his way, in which he reminded me that he rode Scream, so I should go. So off I went.

“The Catapault” has eight rows of six on a platform. There’s two platforms at each of the long arm. When everyone is strapped in and restrained so tightly that bladders are starting to leak, they raise the arm up 50 or so feet and then spin it around like a baton at 30MPH. Our side went forward first. Then it stopped and we went backward while the others went forward first. During the pause between the two spins, Mark told me that he tends to pass out on rides like this. Luckily, he didn’t. I thought I might from my bladder being squeezed but everything held itself together.

To be honest, “The Catapault” didn’t bother me at all. I thought it was a thrilling ride and I would ride it again in a second. I’m not sure about Mark though. Here’s a picture Earl snapped when we got off the ride, I think Mark is faking the smile.

Catapault.

I loved the Out In The Park experience. It was great to see all types of gays and lesbians (bears, circuit boys, lesbians and their families, etc) mingling with the regular Six Flags crowd. Everyone was having a good time and there were no open signs of hostility.

It was also great to get together with Scott and catch up on old times and reignite our friendship. We’re not going to lose touch with each other again. It looks like we have another reason to visit Boston!

Hartford, Connecticut.

Earl and I are parked in Hartford, Conn. for the evening. We are meeting up with my one of my best friends from high school, Scott, and his partner Mark. Tonight we are going out for dinner and drinks and then tomorrow we are going to “Out In The Park” at Six Flags in Agawam.

Aside from bumping into each other at the True Colors concert in Boston back in June, Scott and I have not seen each other since December 1988. It’s going to be wicked cool catching up on what’s transpired over the past 19 years or so.

It’s time to go get prettied up.

My Identity.

Earl and I are sitting at our local Panera surfing the internet face to face over a couple of pastries and iced tea. Our internet connection at home has been down all day, preventing us from making phone calls (our phone goes over the internet), preventing me from completing my online course work without an extra visit to the campus (to borrow some wi-fi from the library) and keeping me from blogging and more importantly, stifling my daily pr0n intake.

It’s surprising what one can accomplish when there’s no internet in the house. I didn’t vacuum though, let’s not get crazy, the dust bunnies aren’t barking yet.

Today was my first major exam in that math class with Professor Frightful and his group of friends that live behind the blackboard. He provided us with a practice test yesterday, which I completed last night and did surprisingly well. I’m glad I took the time to do that because the practice test was nothing like the actual test. The practice test was a little skim of the material, the real test got down and dirty and surprisingly harder than I thought it would be. Still, I feel cocky and confident and I think I did well. That probably means I failed.

I decided to take a different approach to exams this semester over last semester’s approach. First of all, I’m going to continue to study and make use of the preparation aids (sounds like I have butt problems) that students are provided. However, every book you read about how to be a successful students decrees that you should take your time and review all your answers before submitting the exam. Take all the time that’s available to you. Unfortunately, that’s not how my brain works. I work in hyperdrive and if I don’t know it right away it’s not worth knowing so I’ll work at my own hyperpace, review as I go along and then submit my test when I’m done, without going through a secondary check. My testing stumbles last semester were because I second guessed my original answers when they were right. I’m not taking that risk twice.

Keeping in line with this “I Did It My Way” theme, I’ve decided that if that several of my fellow students can go out of their way to be depressed then I can go out of my way to embrace my personality and be as chipper as I really feel. If I see you and I know you, I’m going to wave at you and perhaps even say hello or stop for a moment to talk to you. I won’t mind if you run in the other direction, it won’t deter me. “Oh God, here he comes again!”

I’ve always had this notion that I have to blend in with the crowd. As I grow older I discover that the notion of doing that is utter bullshit. Each and every person should embrace who and what they are and celebrate it. If people don’t like it, well then screw them. I think I learned that from my mother. Back when I was growing up she was rather outspoken and was always just herself. It’s a trait to be admired. I guess in the world of “J.P. and Earl”, I’m “Dharma”.

After my exam was completed, I decided to jam in the car and make a video in the process. There’s probably a dead singer spinning in his grave after hearing me sing today, but I don’t care. I wasn’t trying to be showy, I was having fun.

[MEDIA=26]

identity.

One of the things that I’m noticing about this bumper crop of freshman at school this year is that they seem to be depressed. I don’t know if it’s because I’m a hyper chatty Cathy at times or what, but I find it a little melancholy that many students choose to walk the campus completely zoned out and tuned into their iPods, with a frown or maybe even a depressing look on their face.

What gives?

Now I’m obviously a music lover. I’ll belt out show tunes, I’ll crank up dance tunes, I’ll airband with some rock and I’ll even sing along with Karen Carpenter and I am eternally grateful that I can carry my entire music collection on this little marvel of technology, but I don’t feel the need to listen to it 24/7. There’s too much out there to enjoy! I enjoy walking through the walls and seeing my fellow students of all ages. I wave hello to those I recognize from previous semesters, I hang with the guys in the hall and collectively we bitch about Professor Weird in Math 121 (I think the class is close to a mutiny, but that’s a blog entry in itself. I am bringing my camera along regularly though, just in case I get the opportunity to sneak a movie for the blog.) But there are so many that look down, iPods in place and just stumble along. The sun could be shining, the sky crystal blue and the changing of the leaves breathtaking, but they don’t notice.

I find that depressing.

I hope this isn’t the way of the up and coming generation.

I’m a geek to the bone and I’m proud of it. But c’mon, there’s a time and place for technology, and sometimes, you just have to get out there and enjoy life, no strings attached.

Literature.

Demu Trilogy

Last night I finished a science fiction novel called “The Demu Trilogy”. Originally three stories entitled “Cage A Man”, “The Proud Enemy” and “End Of The Line”, it was written by F.M. Busby. With last night’s completion it is the 36th time I’ve read the book from beginning to end.

Some might find this odd.

I discovered this book when I was 12. It was buried in a box of books from my Uncle Pete, sandwiched between two copies of “Everything You Wanted To Know About Sex But Were Afraid To Ask”. (I’ve wondered why Aunt Bea and Uncle Pete had two copies of that book, but I was afraid to ask). It had apparently been passed over at a garage sale and was subsequently shoved into this box, along with a bunch of other science fiction books and the aforementioned sex books. The sex books weren’t that informative. I had questions that others would be afraid to answer.

One would think that reading a book for the 36th time would be a chore in monotony but believe it or not, with each reading I find nuances that I haven’t noticed before. I see symbolism that I hadn’t realized in the past 27 years. As a child, my interpretation of the images painted by Busby were, well, child-like. As an adult, I’ve noticed more and more depth to the passages with each subsequent reading.

The basic story goes somewhat like this. Barton, the lead character, is abducted by an alien race called the Demu. The Demu believe that they are the only true people in the universe, all other races are animals. When a non-Demu learns their language, this confuses them as only Demu should be smart enough to speak Demu. So they do their best to make the “animal” look Demu through some pretty rough cosmetic surgery. By the way, the Demu are exoskeletal and like “intelligent shellfish”, much like humans evolved from apes. Barton escapes, leverages his way back to Earth, along with a woman from another humanoid race, the Tilari. I really like the Tilari. Their differences from humans (lack of STDs, conscious control of ovulation, among many other things) make for some very interesting relationships. Earth joins up with Tilara (by the way, we’re called Earthani, not Earthlings, which I find cool) and they go after the Demu, which turns out is just a small part of a big puzzle. I won’t go into further detail, but it’s a great read for any science fiction buff.

It’s amazing how some of the small details of this novel have contributed to the molding of my libertarian beliefs. Sometimes I wish my English Literature professor would just say “write a thematic paper on your favorite novel.” I’d have a field day with that assignment.

In Sickness And In Health.

I am somewhat sick for the second time in as many months. For a person that doesn’t get sick and refuses to get sick, I find this to be quite startling.

I am trying to determine why I am getting sick. Right now I’m blaming the measles vaccine I had to get at the beginning of the year so that I could go to college. I think there’s something inherently wrong with purposely injecting a person with a little measles. “Here, have a little dab of measles, it’ll do you good.” It’s the same reason that I’ve never gotten a flu shot and I won’t get a flu shot.

Aside from beer consumption, which has been cut drastically in the past two weeks, I eat relatively healthy. I’m wondering if I’m not eating enough calories in the hopes of losing weight again. My Monday schedule dictates that I eat lunch at 10:15 a.m. as I have classes from 11 straight through until 5 p.m., so that probably didn’t help the situation last night. I’m going to have to find a better way of dealing with that. Ideally I’d like to drop that infernal math class (love the class, not so wild about the teacher), but I need the course to stay in my engineering classes so I guess I’ll have to come up with another plan.

Last night I slept 11 1/2 hours in one hour increments. God bless Earl. He put up with the tossing and turning and the bouncing around (not in a good way) in bed last night and he seemed quite chipper this morning. But I’d really like to know what’s going on.

Maybe I’ll feel better tonight. I’ll just think lots of positive thoughts.

Monday.

Over tired, slightly cranky and feeling a little stuffed up today, I plodded through my longest day of the week of classes. I’d write more but I’m just hoping tomorrow will be a better day.

I’m going to bed.

Mystique.

Earl and I are spending the weekend at Hillside Campgrounds. It’s our last weekend of the season. Once again, the theme of the weekend is relaxation. Well, perhaps it’s socialization. Or maybe it’s recreation. Conjunction junction, what’s your function?

Lolly, Lolly, Lolly get your adverbs here.

I’ve been visiting Hillside since 1993. After all these years, the mystique of this gay male campground never fails to escape me. I have never been anywhere else where’s there is such a strong sense of community. When you’re driving in, you wave to those you pass that are walking on the small roads that take you through the various areas of the campground, areas such as “Lavender Lane”, “The Landing Strip” and “Buckingham Palace” (the “B” in that last one has a movable letter to make it an “F” on especially gratuitous evenings.) If you’re walking through the campground, you wave a hello to those driving in. Strangers talk to strangers as they’re walking by your campsite and sometimes it turns out that you have common connections, proving that it’s a small world after all.

Another example of the community here at Hillside is the “Helping Hands” fund, a charity intended to help those living with AIDS and HIV. This year there’s a camp cookbook for sale, a weekly BINGO game and other events and activities to raise money for the fund. Several permanent campers offer services (such as winterizing the sites, fixing plumbing, etc) and donate the proceeds to Helping Hands. A couple times each summer my friend Brad and I open up a barbershop for a Saturday afternoon. (Have I ever mentioned before that at once upon a time I considered becoming a barber? I couldn’t find a school locally that wasn’t a cosmetology school.) I basically handle the military style cuts and the shaves, since my barbering abilities amount to two types: “on” or “off”. Occasionally I turn a beard into a mustache that would make the Village People proud. Brad is a little more skilled at the cuts that leave some hair, so he handles those. We all have a great time and we don’t charge anything, but any tip money received is donated to the Helping Hands fund. In July we raised over $275.

Anyway, it’s another humid evening here at Hillside, one that affords me the opportunity to wear my recently discovered campfire attire of choice – a pair of black low cut briefs and maybe my Blue Marvel t-shirt. At times I feel overdressed. It’s a pitch black night, save for the thousands of candles, torches and little lights that twinkle here on the side of a large hill in the middle of the Endless Mountains. Off in the distance I can hear the sounds of the country line dancing going on at the rec hall. In another direction, Gloria Gaynor is singing “I Am What I Am”. And down the road I hear a bunch of guys laughing as they chat and dish around their campfire.

There’s a certain amount of mystique here in the mountains.