Politics...
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That's about all I have to say about politics. But since I've gotten your attention, allow me to turn it to far more fascinating and informative matters: my random group affiliations.
First, it was the few, the proud, the Order of the Focal Pecan (aka 'Order of the Fickle Proton' and 'Odor of the Fuming Peanut', not because of security issues--mostly we just couldn't remember the name). I and four of my high school classmates would meet in the evenings to watch cult films, listen to angst music, and beat one another with sock maces. The only ritual involved that of reaching into a Crown Royal bag filled with 95 brown coffee beans and 5 black ones. If you picked a brown one, you were fine. If you picked a black one, you were promptly beaten. Amazingly enough, someone always managed to pick a black one. Hmmm. Also, we would occasionaly re-enact Civil War battles at midnight with water guns on the grounds of public shopping centers. It was 'our way of coping'. The five of us all live in different states now. Perhaps that was the CIA's doing. Perhaps I'll never know.
Shortly after time and logistics had disbanded the Pecans, I came into the folds of another band of miscreants, the '3SM's', or the 'Secret Circle of Social Misfits'. There really was no ritual, except that when a member was inducted, there would need to be a formal explanation of why they were deemed 'loserish' enough. It never really stood in the way. Most of our events and conduct centered around working late shifts and McDonald's and attempting to make a case for why each of us was the bigger loser. Our events included seeing the plays that one of our members would be performing in from time to time (this was before I started down that road), and hosting a handful of schoolyard football games throughout the year. At our peak, we were a formidable team, seven strong, and we generally laid waste to whoever was unfortunate enough to be asked along. Or, if not, we took film and edited it down to look like we did. It was through the relationships I forged here that I truly began learning the value of friendship. Of the seven, four are married, one with child, two are doing the single thing, and one is a.w.o.l. We live in at least four states (not including grace, matrimony, and denial), and for the most part, we are all in touch. Not bad.
That brings us to college. I really didn't have any specific groups that I belonged to, although at some point along the way I became a 'theatre person'. I did gather periodically with a group of people to do symposiums, in the traditional Greek spirit (minus the little boys and the feathers). Topics ranged from Love to Friendship to Politics to Music. Anything that seemed capable of being milked for a couple of wine-soaked hours. Those, as they say, were the days.
After college, I moved to NYC and joined a 'cult'. I won't say much about it (too much has been said) except that I learned quite a bit, I found my wife there, and I have a great many friends as a result of it. A cult is like a viral infection--it consumes you, it controls you, in conceals you from the world for a bit. But, once it has run its course, you are left feeling very refreshed and grateful. Everyone join one at once!
Now I reside in Atlanta. I have no group affiliations. I don't really even have any friends to speak of. Not yet at least. I have reastablished myself as a theatre person, but an older, more tired one, as I work a day job now. Perhaps soon I will discover a group of almost-thirty couples who don't have kids and prefer beatniky pursuits to traditional Southern 'sports 'n' gun' fares. Likely? Well, I'm not holding my breath. Let's just say I'm reaching in the bag, always hoping for another black bean.
That's about all I have to say about politics. But since I've gotten your attention, allow me to turn it to far more fascinating and informative matters: my random group affiliations.
First, it was the few, the proud, the Order of the Focal Pecan (aka 'Order of the Fickle Proton' and 'Odor of the Fuming Peanut', not because of security issues--mostly we just couldn't remember the name). I and four of my high school classmates would meet in the evenings to watch cult films, listen to angst music, and beat one another with sock maces. The only ritual involved that of reaching into a Crown Royal bag filled with 95 brown coffee beans and 5 black ones. If you picked a brown one, you were fine. If you picked a black one, you were promptly beaten. Amazingly enough, someone always managed to pick a black one. Hmmm. Also, we would occasionaly re-enact Civil War battles at midnight with water guns on the grounds of public shopping centers. It was 'our way of coping'. The five of us all live in different states now. Perhaps that was the CIA's doing. Perhaps I'll never know.
Shortly after time and logistics had disbanded the Pecans, I came into the folds of another band of miscreants, the '3SM's', or the 'Secret Circle of Social Misfits'. There really was no ritual, except that when a member was inducted, there would need to be a formal explanation of why they were deemed 'loserish' enough. It never really stood in the way. Most of our events and conduct centered around working late shifts and McDonald's and attempting to make a case for why each of us was the bigger loser. Our events included seeing the plays that one of our members would be performing in from time to time (this was before I started down that road), and hosting a handful of schoolyard football games throughout the year. At our peak, we were a formidable team, seven strong, and we generally laid waste to whoever was unfortunate enough to be asked along. Or, if not, we took film and edited it down to look like we did. It was through the relationships I forged here that I truly began learning the value of friendship. Of the seven, four are married, one with child, two are doing the single thing, and one is a.w.o.l. We live in at least four states (not including grace, matrimony, and denial), and for the most part, we are all in touch. Not bad.
That brings us to college. I really didn't have any specific groups that I belonged to, although at some point along the way I became a 'theatre person'. I did gather periodically with a group of people to do symposiums, in the traditional Greek spirit (minus the little boys and the feathers). Topics ranged from Love to Friendship to Politics to Music. Anything that seemed capable of being milked for a couple of wine-soaked hours. Those, as they say, were the days.
After college, I moved to NYC and joined a 'cult'. I won't say much about it (too much has been said) except that I learned quite a bit, I found my wife there, and I have a great many friends as a result of it. A cult is like a viral infection--it consumes you, it controls you, in conceals you from the world for a bit. But, once it has run its course, you are left feeling very refreshed and grateful. Everyone join one at once!
Now I reside in Atlanta. I have no group affiliations. I don't really even have any friends to speak of. Not yet at least. I have reastablished myself as a theatre person, but an older, more tired one, as I work a day job now. Perhaps soon I will discover a group of almost-thirty couples who don't have kids and prefer beatniky pursuits to traditional Southern 'sports 'n' gun' fares. Likely? Well, I'm not holding my breath. Let's just say I'm reaching in the bag, always hoping for another black bean.
posted by Master of None at 11:23 AM
1 Comments:
Aha, you are finally allowing comments! Just wondering what happened to the original resident of the Crown Royal bag before you filled it with beans? :)
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