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It's on.
Toothbrush? Check.
Underwear? Check.
Camera? Check.
Bourbon? Check.
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At 11am ManTrip 2005 kicks into gear. Over the years it has become a lot less like Fight Club and a lot more like City Slickers.
It used to be a pilgrimage into the wilds of north Georgia to whitewater raft the Ocoee or Chattooga rivers (no pig squeals please). Then after rafting we were off to find the sleaziest, rankest, meanest bar in whatever county we happened to be in.
The "Pickin' Parlor" in Habersham County holds the dubious distinction of being hands down the worst and of course our all time favorite. At the Pickin' Parlor a woman with no teeth came up and asked Tom Wilson if he knew what a "wirlin' durbish" was, then asked him "hey perty boy... You wanna daince?". Also while we were there a fight broke out, the kind of fight that started to spread like a wildfire. We hit the door as soon as we heard glass breaking.
"You wanna daince?" has now become part of the ManTrip lexicon.
The whole trip was an adventure package deal.
Now the trip is less about adventure and more about experience, fellowship, and history. History among friends. It's a time when we get together and just be. There's no jockeying for positions, no ulterior motives, no upsmanships. For me it's a centering experience that reminds me that all of the day-to-day "static", in the grand scheme of things doesn't matter. That "history", that's what matters. The connection to be able to say "Remember when..." and somebody does.
Most of these friends I haven't seen since last year's trip. No worries, we'll be able to pick up where we left off, talking and laughing like we just saw each other yesterday. It really is quality time.
The last thing Leslie said to me as she kissed me goodbye this morning was "Now don't go and do anything stupid."
Huh! As If.
6/16/2005 08:54:00 AM
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