Georgia: The End

I love the way she says ‘Spongebob’! – “Bowbowm”

I had packed all of my things the night before, so I was blazing to go at 7:00am. Even though I didn’t hate every minute of this trip and some fun actually DID sneak in, I was ready to get back to New York. I helped load everything into the van. Mom and Sandy were going to drive me and Broseph etc. to Jacksonville and then return to the condo to pick up Uncle Friendship. I escaped a creepy hug by already being sat in the back seat. Instead, I smiled and waved goodbye, wondering if I actually called Uncle Friendship and asked for some gay porn DVDs, if he would deliver.

As much as I wasn’t looking forward to spending time with strangers who go by the name of Family, I did gain a slight appreciation for them. I would rather be forced to spend time with people I don’t know who like to have fun than to be a part of the groom’s plastic, tired family. Our redneck ancestry is much more interesting. Even though our family’s communication is sloppy, our blood in love with alcohol, and there are plenty of issues, THANK GOD I AM NOT BORING!!

(I guess) I (sort of) wish there was (a little) more time to spend with all those yahoos. Maybe then, I wouldn’t be so hesitant to go to family functions – not that there are any planned. Speaking of – when and if I ever get gay-married, all these yahoos better show up (they won’t). There will be a few rules I implement.

1. It will not be called a “wedding”. It will be called a Love Party.
2. You must dance.
3. The only way to be invited is if your phone number is in my cell phone.
4. If you act stupid or annoy me, you will be ejected.
5. Any children present, must make kid noises all the time.
6. Name cards will be switched around at the reception dinner so that people from both sides of the families will be forced to talk and mingle.

Finally, I leave you with a slide show of my niece, Madyson. Often times, she was the only cool thing going on around Georgia. She likes to pose like a model. She loves the camera. When I said, “Say cheese” or “Smile”, she would strike a pose, then, after the camera flashed, she would strike another. Afterwards, she always wanted to see the pictures on the camera. She laughed and pointed at herself. Nearly all of the following pictures are posed, even if they don’t look like it. She is THAT good. Hilarious.

Mommys & Tornadoes

The storm hadn’t let up all night and it seemed that it would continue all day. I was up at a decent hour because I wanted to go to the Mother’s Day brunch that The Mother of the Groom was hosting. Mommy was hung over so she slept. Aunt Computer and the girls left early in the morning to catch a plane. Uncle Friendship, however, was still on the loose and ready to party. He was already standing near the open bar when I arrived at the brunch.

Arriving at the brunch was quite the journey. I walked into the hotel lobby and the lady at the hostess stand told me very complicated directions. En route, I walked past a wonderful spread of shrimp, soups, a make your own omlette bar, salad!, fruit, an esspresso machine… a brunch with all the fixings. I couldn’t wait to get to my free brunch, which I went to by myself since most of my family was still drunk and in bed. There really is nothing better than a make your own omlette bar! When I arrived I saw that “brunch” was an egg casserole, some fruit, cold bacon, and bagels. Also, there was a giant pot of grits. Grits suck.

I ate quickly with some of the more sober members of the Rabble Rousers family. I caught a glance of the new couple sitting with pod people in pastel polo shirts, but I was already walking towards the exit so I didn’t even say goodbye. I knew this would be my last opportunity before they left for the honeymoon. Whatever.

I had eaten part of a special cookie. We were gonna go over to Uncle Georgia’s condo and BBQ by the pool later, but it was still raining, so that plan was up in the air. I saddled up to the big screen TV with a bag of Harvest Cheddar Sun Chips. Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom had just started. I was pretty excited to have some nothing time to myself. Then, the power went out. FUCK!

The storm wasn’t just a storm. It was a storm with tornadoes! They were touching down everywhere. Even the locals at The Beachcomber were fleeing. Everything in town closed. It was gross-hot and windy. The rain stopped, but it looked like doomsday outside, like when Satan arrives to town in that Stephen King book, Needful Things. Aunt Georgia’s family (my relatives) were still having a BBQ poolside, even though FUCKING TORNADOES WERE CRASHING DOWN TWO MILES AWAY RIPPING UP HOMES AND TURNING OFF ELECTRICTY SO NO ONE COULD WATCH INDIANA JONES AND THE TEMPLE OF DOOM!

It was cute watching Madyson play in the pool, but that didn’t last too long because Uncle Friendship had gotten into someone’s vodka and barfed all over the pool deck. Mommy took him back to the condo to go to sleep. While she was gone, some college kid I was vaguely related to said, “I don’t like your shirt”. I was wearing my Yankees T-shirt and he was wearing a Boston Red Sox T-shirt and hat. Unfortunately, I had to have a conversation about baseball with this guy who thought I gave two shits about sports. It was actually fun pretending I knew what he was talking about. It made me feel really butch and I caught a glimpse into what it would be like to be straight and talk to my straight guy friends. Thank God I am gay.

Mommy returned and decided that our little family unit was going to spend a nice Mother’s Day dinner at one of the few restaurants that was open for business. The power had come back on and we were ready to leave this oddly forced family BBQ. The Red Sox fan wanted my email for when he and his girlfriend visit in October. Sure. Here’s my email. Have fun with that.

We had to stop back at the condo to pick up my mom’s purse (love that purse). As we rounded the corner, Uncle Friendship, who was supposed to be in bed, had dressed himself and was on his way to a bar. BUSTED! Oh man, the look on his face was so BUSTED! Like, teenager getting caught masturbating BUSTED! It was brilliant. Mommy brought him back inside and we left.

The little diner we went to was very olde timey. They served sodas the size of my head. It was nice to have a quiet meal with just our tiny part of this huge family. Screw all the fakies, the random relatives, and the people who I am supposed to consider family who never call, write, or even send me a friend request on Facebook. Time with Mommy on Mother’s Day, THAT’s why I came to Georgia!

Afterwards, I got to go watch the 3 hour finale of ‘Survivor’ all by myself while eating leftovers from The Beachcomber. I swear, I have gout. Woo-Hoo!

The Wedding (Georgia Pt.4)

I woke up late on Saturday just in time for Mommy to buy us lunch at The Beachcomber. I thought for a moment, “How much meat does one need to consume before you get gout?” Later, when my fears of gout were voiced aloud, Uncle Friendship took off his shoes and socks and showed me his gross foot. He had been drinking again. We had hidden the liquor in our house so he must have been getting it from a magic tree or something. He told me about his experience with gout and that he had to get his foot “cut up”. The visible scars had gnarled his foot into a stump. After an in depth description of the pain and surgical procedure, he gave me an old pair of his swimming trunks as a gift. Time to disappear to the shower.

For the week leading up to our Georgia Adventure, it had been a sudden concern of whether or not Baby Madyson would be allowed at the wedding. Even though Mommy had asked Uncle Georgia months ago if it was alright, Big Cousin Georgia decided that she didn’t want any children of a certain age to be “at the wedding or any wedding activities.” Isn’t this entire trip a wedding activity? If it was so important for the ENTIRE family to come down to witness a stranger’s wedding, isn’t Madyson part of that family? You know what would have happened if Big Cousin Georgia had decided to tell us this news at a more appropriate time? Broseph and Sheree would not have come to the wedding, which in turn would allow me to back out, which would then save my Mommy a bunch of money that she could use to do something nice for herself. Instead, everyone feels awkward at an already awkward family reunion.

I haven’t seen or talked to these people in 8 years. Why am I here?

Mommy and I went over to watch Big Cousin Georgia get her hair and make-up done. I had anticipated bridesmaids yakking, drinks being poured, and perhaps some fun make-up tips from the artist. There was one subdued girl who looked like a bridesmaid, my mom did the dishes in the kitchen, and I was placed in charge of ironing the bride’s sash. Yawn. After it was perfectly ironed, Mommy and I went back to pile up the van of yahoos.

Aunt Computer had taken the girls early again because they had something to do at the wedding. It was just as well, because while I was voicing how lame it was that Madyson may not be able to go to the wedding, Aunt Computer became a rigid fountain of knowledge about wedding etiquette and explained how we were wrong in this situation and that Madyson should be left behind. Ugh. Now I have 2% of a reason not to like Aunt Computer.

Madyson was invited to the giant family picture in front of the church. So, that was nice. She better have, since this picture was the main reason for me dragging my fat ass down to Georgia. I knew it was important for Mommy and so I tricked my brain into thinking it was important for me. Even though I had to stand next to Uncle Dirty. I noticed he was wearing a shirt I own, probably because we shop at the same Big & Tall store. Note to self – ad green shirt to pile for Salvation Army donations. The bride looked amazing. Her dress was fierce. The sash looked dazzling! I wonder who ironed it?

Broseph and Sheree left with Madyson just before the ceremony was to begin and went to Outback Steakhouse.

The chapel was adorable. Amazing woodwork, beautiful stained glass windows, and a Confederate cemetery surrounded the grounds. Moss drooped from ancient trees which gave the appearance that everything was beautifully sad and wet. It was charming in a creepy way. I sat in the rear of the congregation to have a better view. Just before the ceremony was to begin, a young family with a toddler not much older than Madyson rushed in and sat in the second row of the groom’s side of the church. It’s shit like this that just kills me.

The ceremony was very plain. Very religious. Some chick read from the Bible, “Love is gentle, Love is kind, Love is boring, blah, blah, blah…” Everyone looked like they had a gun to their heads, except The Mother of the Groom, who clearly had a hand in planning everything. I didn’t get the sense that this day was for the young couple. Instead, it appeared to be for the happiness of these southern cadavers that were seated on the groom’s side of the church. Robots in suits. The robot toddler made an annoying baby noise. Ha.

Everyone caravaned over to the reception at a fancy seaside hotel. It was hot and muggy. Sweat dripped from everyone’s everywhere. The rich zombies from the groom’s side of the family had all kept on their jackets and ties, salty beads of wetness dripped into their extra dry martinis. Our family thought being hot was lame so we all stripped down. Not as much as at The Beachcomber. Our poor Californian blood couldn’t handle this weather, no matter how much free booze you threw at us. Somehow, we were still quiet and reserved, just like abused step-children… or good slaves.

The reception was complete joke. The majority of our family was seated in the back. I assume this was to keep us quiet and away from the higher members of Georgia society. The food was good except for something that was served with grits. Really? Unfortunately, I had ordered prime rib four months ago when they were taking food orders, so my meatfest continued. There was a dance for the new couple and then a father/daughter dance, both of which were accompanied by a string quartet. The quartet played throughout dinner as well, each song sounding exactly like the previous song. The new couple did not go around to each table, the cake was cut without anyone noticing and served, the open bar closed without warning, and there was no garter belt, no bouqet, and no dancing. NO DANCING! REALLY?

You just fucking invited a million people to a giant wedding and there isn’t any dancing? They clearly did not want our families to truly intermix. At all. Aside from Uncle Georgia’s wonderful speech, this entire day seemed heartless. Thank goodness for Uncle Georgia and his truly brilliant, raw, and sincere emotions. He got a huge round of applause from the back row. If this bogus group of “Souther Society” wasn’t so worried about being perfect and keeping up appearances, they might have actually had a good time. I never wanted to hear ‘YMCA’ so badly in all my life.

I snuck out of the ballroom and went back to the condo to take a cold shower and eat a special cookie. I listened to Mariah, Madonna, and any other Top 40 hit I could get my northern hands on before heading back over to The Beachcomber. Larry The Gay Guy and Amy The Drunk Lesbian were more family than most of the people I had to share space with today.

A little Cuban lady who lost her shoe told me something very interesting – “There is a great difference between ‘family’ and ‘relatives’”. So true. I bought her another White Zinfandel.

The Beachcomber quickly filled up, becoming a post-reception party. Suddenly, the loudest thunder and scariest lightning in the universe whipped down around us. It began to pour heavy rain…

No Shirt, No Shoes, No Problem! (Georgia Pt.3)

For lunch, I went back across the street to The Beachcomber and had a BBQ Sandwich. I had had some leftovers for breakfast, so this was my third meat meal in a row. My butt was not happy. I was seriously hoping for a nice salad or something at tonight’s event.

I got bored waiting for Uncle Georgia to call Mommy with directions to The Rehearsal Dinner. We all sat around the dining room table in our Sunday second-best. Just waiting. So, I took this slidehow of Mommy at the table. Watch the whole thing, it’s worth it.

The Rehearsal Dinner was to start at 6:00pm. It got to be 6:05pm and still no word from Uncle Georgia. Aunt Computer and her girls had left an hour earlier as they had nominated themselves to be in charge of stuff. They seemed pretty good at occupying their time without Uncle Friendship. The rest of our gang drove over to Uncle Georgia’s condo, but no one was there! We called him. He was already at The Rehearsal Dinner and had forgotten us. It makes sense. If I was trying to organize a perfect Southern wedding for the benefit of the future in-laws, I would accidentally forget our van full of people too – a severe alcoholic, a fag, a couple with anger management issues, a baby, and a party lady. Good thing we all let Mommy drive.

The Rehearsal Dinner was at a lovely outdoor deck, seaside, and with plenty of room for the two families to segregate from each other. I had anticipated meeting some wonderful, Southern characters on the groom’s side of the family, but they were all so stuffy and bland. Only one lady stood out – The Mother of the Groom. She marched right up to me and shook my hand without making eye contact. She wobbled a little bit. I thought she was drunk, but it seemed that her high heels were caught on the wooden deck. “YOU MUST BE DANIEL. I’M GERTRUDE MCGEORGIA!” She politely yelled in a drawl that was almost thick enough to conceal her inner, plastic beast.

First, she was talking too loud and too energetic to be sincere. Second, she had fucking mistaken me for Uncle Dirty. Gross. I explained I was Jeff, Big Cousin Georgia’s cousin from New York. By the time I was finished with my sentence, she had already started introducing herself to someone else. I didn’t even realize it was The Mother of the Groom until after the dinner. Besides her, I thought everyone else had been cut out of cardboard and positioned carefully around the dock.

I chatted with Boy Cousin Georgia for a bit about acting in New York, then I chatted with Aunt Georgia and the bride for a bit about acting in New York. After that, I found myself accidentally alone with Edna. So to pass the time, we chatted a bit about acting in New York. Luckily, the only black person for miles came and sat down with us and we started chatting about her job as a… I forget. She was lovely and her name was Hope. I enjoyed brief, passing conversation with her all weekend. The only black and the only gay MUST be wedding friends!

After talking to me about her favorite episode of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, Aunt Georgia taught me how to take better pictures. Apparently, some gay dude who works with her at Red Lobster showed her how to “roll into it” when taking a photo. See the difference – BEFORE and AFTER. Notice how it thins out any potential double chin? Notice how your eyes look more alive? Again. BEFORE and AFTER. Here are some more examples of “rolling into it”…

Dinner was nice (although the closest thing I had to a salad was an egg roll) and the open bar was nicer, but what was nicest was that The Beachcomber was open late. After we all existed in the same space as that other family for a few hours, hardly a conversation intermixed, most of us headed over to our home away from home from the night before. Joining us this evening would be longtime family friends, The Rabble Rousers. They are a family of hilarious drinkers who possess an uniquely contagious spirit. Before the first round of drinks even touched a lip, shirts were off and cigarettes were lit. After such a snooty dinner with snooty people, I was neither embarrassed or irritated. The shenanigans were welcomed.

Broseph took his ladies home early and the rest of the evening went by without any drama. Everyone left one by one, leaving Mommy, Sandy and myself to close the bar. Woohoo!

Don’t It Make My Blue Eyes Brown (Georgia Pt.2)

Everyone slept in Friday morning. The girls got ready and went to the girls-only bridal shower that Little Cousin Georgia was putting on for Big Cousin Georgia, the bride. I didn’t even make an attempt to crash the party, which left me alone in the condo with Uncle Friendship and Broseph, each of them nursing hangovers. Uncle Friendship had gotten into Sheree’s stash of vodka at some point in the evening and he was tipsy still this morning, talking and muttering almost non-coherently. He couldn’t sit still. Upstairs, downstairs, in the bathroom, out on the patio deck, upstairs, up more stairs, downstairs, sit at dining room table with me, bathroom, patio, bathroom…..

Broseph was doing a good job of ignoring Uncle Friendship by passing out on the sofa in the living room. I had some soft music going and was about to start working on the play I have been writing, but Uncle Friendship called me from his bedroom in the basement – “Jeffrey! Come down here! I need to talk to you for a minute!” I pretended that I didn’t hear him, but 3 minutes later, he called for me again.

I sighed heavily. Broseph giggled at me as I descended the steps. I walked to the doorway and peered inside, slightly hesitant to walk inside the room any further. Uncle Friendship was seated on the bed, his hand gently patting an empty space, signaling me to sit down. Against better judgement, I sat, leaving a comfortable distance between us. A quick thought ran through my mind – OH MY GOD, I’M 31 YEARS OLD AND I AM ABOUT TO GET MOLESTED BY MY UNCLE!

UNCLE: I’m so happy you came down to Georgia.
ME: Me too!
UNCLE: I never get to see you. It’s nice. (Uncle rubs my shoulder for two seconds too long)
ME: Thanks!
UNCLE: You got a boyfriend up in New York?
ME: Not at the moment. I’m dating a couple guys, but no boyfriends.
UNCLE: That’s great. That’s really great.
ME: Yeah.
UNCLE: You know, I met this guy on the plane from California to Atlanta. He was sitting next to me on the plane. He had really pretty blue eyes. Gorgeous blue eyes. I couldn’t believe how blue they were! Well, we started talking about you and he showed me a picture of his partner – they aren’t married yet – and he showed me his partner on that thing – what is it?
ME: iPhone?
UNCLE: Yeah that! He showed me his partner, that he isn’t married to yet, and guess what?
ME: What?
UNCLE: He had a huge six-pack! Unbelievable! The best six-pack abs you’ve ever seen in your life! You would probably be really attracted to them! Great looking guy! So I told this guy I was sitting next to that he had really pretty blue eyes and you know what he did? He put his finger in his eye real quick and the blue was gone! They were brown!
ME: Oh? He had colored contacts?
UNCLE: I guess. Anyway, he and I exchanged information and I am going to help him make some DVDs.
ME: DVDs?
UNCLE: Yes! They make gay porn DVDs and I was thinking of getting involved and helping them. Not to be in them or anything, but to help them with their business.
ME: Well, that’s nice. The porn business is just like doctors or lawyers or policemen – there’s always gonna be a demand for the service.
UNCLE: That’s right! So… you know, if… if you want any porn, I could probably get it for you.
ME: DVDs?
UNCLE: Yeah!
ME: I don’t know. I usually get all my porn online thses days. I don’t really use DVDs.
UNCLE: Well, I just wanted to let you know I was thinking about you.
ME: Well, thanks.
UNCLE: Do you ever watch ‘Queer Eye for the Straight Guy’?

Creepy. Creepy. Sad. Creepy. Creepy. Hilarious. Creepy. Creepy. Creepy.

Uncle Georgia, Uncle Dirty, and Pap-Pap came over and picked up Uncle Friendship and Broseph. They all went fishing and beer drinking in the hot, humid outdoors. They offered to take me too, but I wanted to enjoy the afternoon by myself at the condo and take a hot shower and rinse the creepy juice off me.

This was just Friday morning – wait until I tell you about Friday night…

Midnight in the Garden of Gay & Evil (Georgia Pt.1)

I drove to St. Simon Island, Georgia from Jacksonville, Florida with Aunt Computer, Cousin Science and Cousin Musical. They were all nice ladies, strangers that I am related to by marriage and blood. The four of us beat the rest of the family to the four-story condo by about three hours. I was able nap, shower, and steal the best room of the house by strategically placing my luggage on the bed before anyone else – just like those catty bitches in America’s Next Top Model.

Our quiet foursome was broken once Uncle Friendship, Mommy, Broseph, Sheree and Baby Madyson arrived. At the sound of the front door opening, I whispered to Cousin Musical and Cousin Science, “Well it was nice visiting with you. I hope you enjoyed the calm before the storm. See you on the other side.” Along for the family adventure was Mommy’s best friend Sandy, who always has a joke and a bottle of Jack Daniel’s to share. Our condo was full, our immediate cast of characters complete.

I went down to help bring up luggage, like a good boy, and there I encountered Pap-Pap and his wife/girlfriend, Edna. Pap-Pap had been given stern lectures about getting along with me and being more gay-friendly. I had nervously anticipated this awkward reunion with the man who was supposed to be my grandfather. We both made a big, happy scene in front of everyone.

ME: Hello!
PAPS: HELLO!
(A very firm handshake)
ME: Long time, no see!
PAPS: Yes! Very long time! How is New York?!
ME: Great! How is Arizona?!
PAPS: Hot!
ME: I bet! And you must be Edna!
PAPS: And this is Edna!
ME: Hi Edna! I don’t believe we’ve met!
EDNA: I just love your grandfather!

And that, my friends, was the only exchange of words between Paps and myself the entire weekend. Aunt Georgia and Uncle Georgia came over to pick up Pap-Pap and Edna to take them to their condo where Uncle Dirty, the youngest and least favorite of my uncles, was already drinking warm beer and laughing at his own jokes. I went inside our condo to do something other than what I was doing at that moment to avoid further lame conversation.

After we unpacked, I made Mommy model her new purse. It’s made out of jeans and rhinestones. I am obsessed.

Uncle Friendship woke from a heavy nap and an hour later, we all met up across the street at The Beachcomber. This tiny bar was perfect for this rowdy bunch of rednecks. It was like those restaurants with street signs nailed to the wall and sawdust on the floor – only they didn’t have any sawdust. The locals were friendly and exciting. I asked Amy The Drunk Lesbian if this bar was gonna be able to handle tourists. She put her arm around me and said, “Honey, you ain’t tourists. I can tell you guys are all forced to be here for a wedding. You guys are visitors and visitors are always welcomed here.”

I sat at an empty table in the middle of the bar. Pap-Pap went to one corner with Edna and Uncle Dirty, Uncle Friendship and his family to another corner, and Broseph and his two little ladies filled in the seats at my table. We were all starved and wanted to wait for Uncle Georgia and his family, but we ordered anyway. Meat. Lots of meat. The BBQ was great, but little did I know, I would be eating pork and beef all weekend. This meal would be the beginning of a very problematic bowel issue. Uncle Georgia soon arrived solo, rocking a tank top and some tribal tatts.

We all finished dinner, and it was time to do some serious drinking. Uncle Friendship and family left in order to curb his urge to drink. Broseph got drunk and wore some Cuban lady’s green jacket. He posed for a picture with the jacket’s owner and a black nurse who was picking up a take out order. Broseph left soon after with his two ladies in tow.

I introduced the concept of Captain Morgan’s and Root Beer to the long haired bartender. He had never heard of that combination before and promptly made himself one as well. I made friends with Larry The Gay Guy, who of course, was friends with Amy The Drunk Lesbian. He was hot for Uncle Georgia, who easily wins most attractive of my uncles, so I can see why. Larry The Gay Guy gave lap dances to Mommy and Uncle Georgia, neither of whom thought he was gay.

At some point, Edna had started pole dancing.

Uncle Georgia left and Larry The Gay Guy bought me shots and stole my hat and glasses. I think Larry was gonna settle for taking me home, until Sheree returned to the bar and said, “Can I ask you a serious question? Why don’t you like me?”

Buzz. Kill. — but OK, let’s do this…

I was drunk and she asked, so I laid it all out there for her. She had read my Christmas Blogs from this past holiday season and was upset. I defended my artistic freedom and she actually understood me for the most part. We had a decent conversation about both sides of our issues, each of us apologizing for certain things we needed to apologize for, and decided to start anew. We also decided it would be appropriate for either of us to call the other one out with any bullshit. I plan to use that free ticket whenever necessary.

Broseph tried to start a fight with her later into the evening, but he was too drunk for it to really make sense. Something about Sheree flashing her boobs at the bar in exchange for free drinks, but I heard Broseph tell her to do it, so there wasn’t anything to really fight about. Everyone told him to go to bed because he was being an asshole. He went to bed, but locked Sheree out of the bedroom and made her sleep on the floor in the living room. See? Asshole.

And now, a slideshow review of Georgia – Day One…