10 May 2005

The Spring Festival

Ah, spring. After a long cold winter, followed by a long cold April (I was pissed off all month), spring has finally come to…well, to whatever the hell valley I live in. The Kanawha Valley? Maybe. Sounds familiar.
Anyway, yeah, the Spring Festival has begun. And each of us celebrates spring in his own way. For me, the celebration involves the ceremonial closeting of the long underwear and shaving both face and head. I always enjoy the spring shave, because it gives me a chance to find out who actually knows me, and who just remembers the beard. I can say that neither Mary nor Allison recognized me last night (Allison’s reaction, when she did realize who I was, was priceless), but Gates, Brett, Tackett, and Beth Anne all did. So did Christy and Kendall this afternoon. That’s better than it was two years ago, when I sat in Calamity unnoticed for almost two hours before Neal finally recognized my voice while I was talking to myself about what I wanted to drink next. Only Gates knew me right away; he recognized my eyes, but I think he was the first to see me without sunglasses that day, so he had an unfair advantage.
Different folks are celebrating the Spring Festival in different ways. Brett and Tackett are celebrating with a new spring line of serial killer T-shirts. You know, like a shirt with a picture of Charles Manson and the caption "Family Man." They’re thinking about branching out into funny and offensive shirts as well, and have enlisted the aid of my creative impulses. If I think of anything cool, I get free shirts. You can never have too many of those.
Bill and Sarah are celebrating by getting married. Actually, that isn’t true; they’re just getting married and it has nothing to do with the fact that it's spring, as far as I know. But it is spring, so as far as I'm concerned their engagement is part of the Spring Festival and I’m goddamned including it. I myself have sworn off weddings, as far as possible. Sheila and I attended Gerlach's wedding to Candace a year and a half ago, and I swore afterwards that I was never going to another wedding. Sheila laughed, and said there was no way I could avoid it. I said, “Okay, to leave myself an out, if Bill and Sarah get married, I’ll go. They’re the only couple that I love both of them enough to put up with it.” At the time, they’d only been seeing each other for a couple of months, so I felt pretty safe. But I guess I’m caught now. Who knows, when I write about the Spring Festival next year, we might be celebrating the entry of a new little Warner into the world.
Andy is observing the Festival with his annual revelation: this town sucks, and he's desperate to get out. Every year about this time he decides he's got a plan to leave. He's always almost got a job lined up. Year before last it was New York. Last year it was New Orleans. This year, I believe, it's DC. I don't expect him to ever actually escape (though his ex-wife just moved back to town, so he's got extra motivation), but it's nice that he's always trying. Hasn't given up yet. Good luck, brother.
The Spring Festival means that the frat boys down at the Union are celebrating, of course, by being incredibly stupid and offensive. I was down there tonight spending time with Katy, and let me say, I haven’t seen people behave that badly in a while barring acutal fighting. I probably shouldn't say that, though; might jinx the place. There are a lot of fights in there every spring. Herbie says it's blowing off steam from Cabin Fever. Anyway, no fights tonight, but a lot of rudeness and boorishness. And the worst thing about it was that it was the employees who were being the most obnoxious. The worst behavior was on the part of Larry, the DJ; Kyle, who works the door; and Phil, who is the cook now that Warren is gone. They were the ringleaders, and the frat boys just followed along. Larry was trying to explain to Nikki (the non-Katy bartender) that he wanted to give her a “pearl necklace” (which I’d never heard of until tonight, but he explained it graphically) while Kyle was telling Larry, who is black, to “go pick my cotton.” Everyone remarked on the state of Nikki’s breasts at great length, and Phil appeared to be considering writing a doctoral thesis on her ass, as well. He certainly enjoyed watching her mop. And Phil wouldn’t leave after closing; he kept trying to hit on Nikki by telling her what a great musician she is, and fondling her every time he got the chance. This is the ugliest side of bar culture: men getting drunk and treating women like toys.
All in all, it was an embarrassing time to be a man.
Graduation was this weekend, so a lot of people are celebrating by getting out of town, whether for good or for vacation. Mary and Beth Anne are going to Beth Anne’s cabin for a week. The other Sarah is going to fill in for them at Hank's, and it will be nice to spend some time with her before she goes to Europe for the summer. She’s studying for six weeks, and then her fiancé is going to meet her; they’re getting married in Italy or some such place and then honeymooning by backpacking across the continent, which just seems terribly cool to me.
The students are gone now, so we get our town back. I myself enjoy the summer break because I can take a canteen full of wine and walk around campus singing to myself all night, without worrying about anybody calling the police. Also, I can come sit in the computer center without having to wade through a mass of desperate teenagers, and I can work on this thing or whatever project interests me without being bothered. But right now, the walking around and drinking and singing thing is what's interesting me, so I'm gonna go. It's too pretty a night to be cooped up. Hope everyone enjoys tonight as much as I will. Happy Spring to all. Oh, and Happy Mother's Day as well, particularly to my sister Debby, who just had her first. Love to all, and especially to her.

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