3 July 2011
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Rhythmic, it echoes through the valley of the Hudson River.
Barely opening my eyes, I squint at the clock. 6:00 a.m.
Then the rain comes.
Thank the Flying Spaghetti Monster. There's no way the roads are going to dry out in time to ride today. I'm still in bed but I know my legs are going to hurt as soon as I stand up. I burrow under the sheets and fall asleep.
It's still raining off and on by the time the five of us have found our way to the kitchen. Gordon peeks into my stove-top espresso maker. I've been messing with it all weekend, trying to get it to work on the electric stove. I didn't tighten it enough yesterday. Gordon got it to work after I left for the hike. Now the pressure is on me to get it right. It's the kind of thing I get paid for back home, fer chrissakes. "Looks like it's working," he says.
I'm cutting up all the fruit I can find for tonight's potluck. We're going to Boston after this. I can't take anything perishable with me. The serving bowl is heaped over the top. Terry picks out the raspberries for his breakfast.
The other Terry is peering curiously at her iPhone. "My brother says there's a whale in Asbury Park." Terry takes his bowl to the table and pulls out his iPad. The two of them search the news.
"It's a fake picture," she says, "but they did see a whale."
"You should tell him you knew about it already," I suggest. "Tell him you've been swimming with it all week." She's been training for open water triathalons all summer at the shore.
Now fully caffeinated, we're lounging around, not really planning anything in particular, when Cheryl comes in.
"We're going to Lake George to see the Sagamore Hotel. You guys wanna come?"
So the Tech House piles into Gordon and Terry's car and follows Nancy's van, full of ADD House residents, south to Lake George.
The guests look all wrong for this hotel. We should all be dressed as the characters in Fry & Laurie's Jeeves & Wooster. (If you don't know what I'm talking about, go get it on Netflix. Now.) It's a grand place, for sure.
We wander around outside. Gordon and I take pictures. I'm not really feeling it, though. It's too tourist-trappy here.
That's one of our Terrys coming down the stairs.
Someone decides we should eat lunch here, outside, by the water. We're paying for the view. On the lake a motorboat keeps a pair of parasailers afloat under a yellow chute decorated to resemble the Wal-Mart smile a bit too much. Despite predicted thunderstorms, the boat is out there for the duration of our lunch.
The conversation has turned to where to go for our regular Saturday dinners now that we're getting a little tired of the same spots. The Italian restaurant in Lawrenceville has been panned, Terry says.
"Why?" I ask.
He rolls his eyes. "The crosses on the walls."
Which gets me singing,
Keep your Jesus off my penis Keep your bible off my balls Keep your prayers out of my ears And your crosses off my walls You can keep the virgin mother And the resurrection too Keep your Jesus off my penis I'll keep my penis off of you
"Eric Schwartz!" Denise says. "I've seen him! I have his CD." So we trade stories about him for a while. But I have to get back to the rest of the song:
Well I'm frickin' sick and tired Of turning on the news And seeing the religious right's Ungodly fight to take our right to choose When to bear our children Who to love and how Education and protection If we're just practicing for now So dubya look obey a book If that's what works for you But I don't tell you how to pray So don't tell me how to screw Keep your Jesus off my penis Keep your bible off my balls Keep your prayers out of my ears And your crosses off my walls You can keep the virgin mother And the resurrection too Keep your Jesus off my penis I'll keep my penis off of you So you're screaming bloody murder 'Bout the taliban regime For subjugating women And being too extreme And basing legislation On some ancient holy book Does that sound a bit familiar? Here's a mirror, have a look And as for the ten commandments They need one more at least Thou shall never cover up The acts of pervert priests How'd they let that happen Unless they just abhor us Well anyway it adds Another layer to the chorus Keep your Jesus off my penis Keep your bible off my balls Keep your prayers out of my ears And your crosses off my walls You can keep the virgin mother And the resurrection too Keep your Jesus off my penis I'll keep my penis off of you So you'll execute a person And protect a single cell But mercy-kill the terminally ill And you're goin' straight to hell I don't know much about The word of God Far be it from me But I can tell you what it ain't - Hypochristianity I am not anti-Christian Before you grab a rope There is beauty in religion And joy and love and hope We're all looking for an answer Some colossal cosmic cause But who the fuck are you To turn your views into my laws? It's just believers in the bible That would have abortion banned Anti-choice agnostics? I could count'em on one hand And as for killing babies I have but one retort If someone raped your daughter George You'd beg her to abort And if some young girl from your church Shows up with child or some infection `Cuz you taught her what a horrid sin It was to use protection One day you'll face the pearly gates And whatchu gonna say When that long-haired Jewish peacenick Sends your ass the other way sayin' Keep your Jesus off my penis Keep your bible off my balls Keep your prayers out of my ears And your crosses off my walls I've had it up to here With all the biblibile you spew Keep your Jesus off my penis (at least that's what I would do) Keep your Jesus off my penis I'll keep my penis off of you That's if'n you want me to
I try to get artsy with the camera. Meh.
Inside the hotel it's a mob scene. We're trying to find Marilyn in the gift shop. I find her, and a stuffed moose for Jack.
Standing at the entrance in the pouring rain, we Tech House denizens decide to make a run for the car. A few miles out of town, Nancy pulls around. "Maybe they forgot Cheryl and Denise," I muse, but I can't get a cell signal. We continue on our way, only to find, when our signal returns and I get hold of Cheryl, in the van, that we've missed our turn. So we get a view of the main drag in Lake George, the one away from the water. Meh.
There's the matter of the old house, though, the one that I think Gordon needs to see. I made a note of it on our way out so it should be easy to find. The sky is clearing. We almost have some sun. That's when we find the house. Perfect.
Back home now, Nancy is arranging in rows the cupcakes that Mary Anne has made for tonight's potluck. Mary Anne looks up. "No!" she exclaims. "It's a 45! For Bob and Norene's 45th anniversary!"
"Oop!" Nancy tries in vain to make the numbers again. She just can't do it. Mary Anne takes over. "I have to have things in rows," Nancy says. "I rearrange shelves in food stores. It's terrible."
Don and MaryAnne have to leave for New Jersey tonight. They trust someone else with the cupcakes.
Dinner is at our house. Before the evening scurry, Jack settles in with his moose.
Jeff and Gordon man the grill. People hang out in the driveway.
Bob and Norene are surprised. Lots of people take pictures and videos. I think this one is from Marilyn:
What doesn't get eaten gets packed up. We're loading our cars tonight so we can get on the road by 8:00 tomorrow, after we have one last Tech House breakfast in North Creek.
On to Boston.
No comments:
Post a Comment