Mornin, kids...
I promise no more emotional Titanic-esque postings for a while. I have to say it was pretty cathartic to just spew it out onto the internets, and I want to thank all of my friends and readers who called or wrote out of concern. I'm not quite ready to fling myself off my balcony onto Meridian. :)
Anyway, to catch up on some non-dramatic things that have happened during my off blog days, I'll need to back up to Saturday when I was going to the Big Gay Campground with Tyler. He got off work at 7pm, and I headed over to his place to pack up the car. The first major problem was the general lack of directions. His friends who were already down there didn't give very good directions. So, we just started down the general direction and hoped for the best. I found pretty darkly humorous that when we stopped at McDonald's for a quick bite to eat that the song playing on the musak was AC/DC's "Highway to Hell."
Gay Campground. Camp Buckwood (or FUCKwood, if you're in the know). I am pretty sure the idea conjures up some pretty specific images. I mean, really, when you get a high concentration of gay men in any given spot, it doesn't really take a rocket scientist to know that sex is not going to be too far away. I'm not judgmental about people enjoying this. It is their life and they can do what they want. Do I participate in it? Nope, never have. Have I been in these situations before? Yes, Gay Days in Orlando comes to mind, though I have to say that highly athletic circuit boys are much more desirable an image than two giant Kodiak bears going at it like it is a National Geographic special. Yes, I guess you could say I'm okay with open sex if it is basically a live action porn with the porn stars to boot!
We finally get near, and I have to laugh that there are at least three churches near the corner where you turn to go to the grounds. Since I'm pretty sure there isn't a way to keep secret a men's only campground in Southern Indiana, I imagine they have quite a few sermons attributed to the proximity. Anyway, we turn into the grounds, which is officially called "Four Seasons" though everyone knows it as Buckwood. After driving for a while, we start to see tents and campers and things. Keep in mind, I haven't really camped since 1982 and a brief time in the boy scouts, so I really don't know what a real campgrounds looks like. Then we come up to the house of the owners that also is the office and probably private sex club. We thankfully didn't have to pay because we were sharing a tent and we were really only going to be there about twelve hours.
We meet up with Tyler's friends, and we continue to drive towards the campsite. I get the feeling that these campgrounds are really just someone's back yard. We drive by the pool, and bammo, there it is. The first nude person that should never consider taking off a shred of clothing...not even to shower. Now, I am all for being secure in your body image, but that doesn't mean I have to be secure seeing it. At that moment I vowed to never set foot in the pool...don't even get me started on the Hot Tub. Come on, can you imagine what kind of Sea Monkeys are jumping around in that thing? We get closer to the campsite, and there is even more unneeded nudity. Seriously, we're talking I'd rather see Bea Arthur in the buff.
We get our stuff into the tent, which is this giant two room deal. I can't say we were exactly roughing it, especially when you consider the air mattress. As soon as I can, I grab a drink, and from then on, the night wasn't so bad. :) As soon as we got settled, we go on a tour. Oh god. I begin to notice there are a lot of decorations up, and I discover that it is "Christmas in July." Good Lord, even the gay campground has themed weekends! Apparently there was a competition for who had the most/best decorations. It looked like some trailer park jamboree in the forest. Most of the group breaks off at this point to go to a prayer meeting (this is a hip way to say "smoke pot"). I get to see the rest of the facilities. We walk back by the pool and they are watching a movie. The Grinch! See, Christmas...love it. (Yes, my eyes are rolling, too). The next venue is the barn. Ah, the mythical barn. This is what I had heard about from friends who have been to Buckwood. This is basically the sex room. It contains what is called a preacher's bench (various ways for you to..um...pray for..um...rear entry?!?) and a sling suspended from the roof. I think you can figure out how that works. Thankfully, there was no one using it, and I got to see that at least they provide porn and condoms. I would probably provide some Purell Hand Sanitizer, too, but hey, I don't own the place. Now, for those straight people reading this blog, please do not think all gay guys are into stuff like this. I'm certainly no prude, but I have to say this really isn't my cup of tea. Since the campground's official stance is not to promote sex (really?!?), I am sure there is some liability issue for them to provide such apparatus. Maybe some bear fell out of a tree when someone tried to put the sling up on a branch....who knows?
That's probably the end of my story of Buckwood. We were seriously only there for 12 hours, and outside of the nudists playing two deck Uno and what amounted to all Cher Karaoke, I really can't remember anything worth mentioning. The rest of the night was the beginning of the drama that lead to yesterday's posts. So, I'm certainly not going to dredge that up again. All in all, it wasn't horrible. I actually had a pretty good time, and I could see where someone who was..how shall we say...freer with their playmates would have an excellent time there. It really just amounted to a bar in the woods. I still wouldn't say it is high on my list of vacation spots, but if my friends decided to go, I might not reject it outright.
I am off work until Monday, which I am looking forward to a little couch time. It is also Blanch's birthday tomorrow. So, I am sure I will have some pictures and stories to tell.
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