Because it was there – story#2: Party in the Park

Why NOT trespass in a city park, after hours, for purpose of underage drinking and other questionable-at-best behavior?

I mean, what could be a more safe and sensible plan than THAT?

And, I’m kind of ashamed to admit, the Captain Sensible for this particular plan – me.
I was the person who first said “let’s go to the park!” when a group of us were puzzling over just where we might go to enjoy our ill-gotten bounty.

Fairly easy to be spotted from the road??
Check.
Frequented, as it turns out, by less pleasant individuals than ourselves, IE: violent public school kids?
Check
Had a similar reputation to rest areas, and Cook County Forest Preserve parking lots?
Check.

We
Were
Really
Bored.

But it was a big, beautiful park, with lots of trees and benches and a nice stream that curved it’s way through.
We ended up finding a particular spot, a spot with a huge flat stone used as a bench, along a shaded walkway, partially obscured by a rock wall, that sat on a hill overlooking the stream.
It became “ours.”
If memory serves, we even named it, “The Rock” I think.

It was a brief favorite destination, introduced to many friends and friends of friends, over the course of many “nothing better to do” evenings.

These places had limited shelf lives for us.

Perhaps we all suffered from short attention spans, or some of the girls decided they didn’t feel comfortable there. Maybe it was just a change of the seasons, resulting in colder nights and snow, but it was not long before we’d moved on.

Because it was there – story#1: The Cure – In Orange

It was a slow night in the small city. Had a couple of beers at a friend’s house, and combed the local paper looking for an acceptable band at one of the three clubs where one could find live music – no luck.

Maybe a movie? Geez, we’ve been to the movies a lot…. Hey! Midnight showing of a concert movie by the band The Cure. We like music. We liked the Cure, enough. We were really bored.

So many of these tales involve those four words.
We
Were
Really
Bored.

So, off we go to The Cure – In Orange, probably with a beer in a coat or pants pocket. Three straight guys, no dates.

Great plan.

The audience ended up being far more entertaining than the movie, and we stood out a bit, to put it mildly.
We weren’t wearing black clothes, or eye liner. The androgynous goth boys and their uber-pale female friends stared at us like WE were the freaks. Cuz we were, basically, in that environment.

In addition to the aforementioned, there were small groups of younger (14 or so) girls lumped together throughout the theatre, with skin pigmentation and who looked fairly well adjusted.

We settled in to watch the movie, and…. It sucked. Sound wasn’t great; their song selection was obscure at best; and it sounded like the entire band had knocked back a bottle or two of cough medicine before they took the stage.
This was my impression of the first half of the movie. I have no review of the second half, perhaps it got better.

Why no review of the 2nd half?

We were already leaning toward walking out, mid movie, when it happened.

Robert Smith looked into the camera, and….smeared his lipstick with the back of his hand, and then smiled, just a little.

And we heard an “Oooohhhhhhhh..” as much of the crowd let out a collective sigh, sounding like nothing but a bunch of folks who maybe, just maybe, had just had their first sexual experience.

My two friends and I looked at one another, and without a word, all got up out of our chairs, and headed for the exit.

The other day, I was reminded of an event from my youth. The event’s not of importance, really, but the reason for the event kind of IS, as it’s going to be the topic of the next few posts.

I grew up in a small city, one that did not offer a wealth of outlets, opportunities, stuff to do if you will, when you’re in your teens, and starting to really develop socially.

So our social lives revolved around whatever was available to do.

Why did the man climb the mountain?
Because it was there.

Why’d that group of kids risk getting in big trouble by drinking at night on the shore of a small lake next to the grounds where an asylum used to stand?
Because it’s actually the plot to a bad horror movie, and I’m unable to differentiate between real life and cinema?
NO!
Because it was there.

Why did the kids go watch The Last Starfighter THREE times at the theatre attached to the run down shopping mall?
Because it was there.

(As an aside, The Last Starfighter hasn’t stood up all that well to the test of time. Buckaroo Banzai in the 7th dimension, however – still rocks)

Anyhow, you get the idea.

We hung out in places that we probably shouldn’t have, spent our limited $$$ on whatever movie didn’t sound too crappy and countless nights of bowling; and we drank cheap beer and wine coolers in dumb outdoor locations because being at home alone, bored, was too terrible of an alternative.

Most of the time it made for evenings out that were fun enough, we never really got into half as much trouble as we could have, and nobody died.
It wasn't a John Hughes movie, and most nights are completely unmemorable, but I have to label it a success, in retrospect.

Anyhow, I hope to touch on a few specifics in upcoming posts, and maybe, hopefully, the result will be entertaining.