But either way the post is overdue. Out there someone is waiting for it. They are disappointed that it has taken so long for me to write it down for them. Perhaps they are very angry about it. And they have decided to "never forgive me for how long it has taken."
"That is," they say "unless the post is really great." If the post can capture the spirit of that night. If it does not intrude too much into their memories. Destroying the affection they still feel for that night. That instead it simply reminds them of a funny anecdote, or it allows them to repaint their imaginations again with my reminders and descriptions.
"I should not fuck this up." They have told me. This night will go down in history. But maybe it is better if that history remains told by memory only. Orally. Recanted in smoky bars or over games of poker. Each time its truth being twisted an tugged at from different positions. Followed by loud angry disavowals.
That's probably best. And the way it should be recalled. By the particulars themselves. One at a time. To throngs of admiring friends, who hang on every word. Who bellow out laughter at every inside joke and every nuance of character betrayed by action.
But that is not how this story will be told. Instead I will tell this story. As I remember it. It is a story of 4 men who decide to make trip to Prescott, Arizona in hopes of meeting Billy Jack.
You really should read my posts about Billy Jack in order to understand why we needed to meet him.
I should tell you a little about the men who went with me on this trip.
G.I. Joe- drives tanks for a living. Well actually he used to drive tanks for a living. Though I am not too sure that one ever really stops driving tanks.
The Married Lawyer Guy- He is the only married guy I know. He is also the only person I know who gets visibly angry when people ask me to correct their grammar or spelling for them.
Card Shark- He thought there were lots of little reasons we should go to Jerome and Prescott. Billy Jack was one of those reasons. When asked if he thought that was a "good reason?" he replied that it was only a "little reason" and he never said "it was a good reason."
Romius T.-known throughout the blogger land as one cool kat, man.
Maybe I should get back to the action. Move the plot on and such. It's what good writers do after all. They would not languish here. In the set up for so long. Where is the fun in that? After all this story is long. And there are lots of things to get through. Many of them will be funny. But not to you. Because you were not there. And those funny things may not lend themselves to the kind of description I am good at.
But here goes.
After meeting up together the four of us all pile into Card Shark's full- sized-cab truck. Some of us were excited. Card Shark had his ipod with him, and took strangest perverse pleasure in finding his craziest music to play for us.
I forgot my ipod, so I could not break up the stream of bad music. Instead I described a particularly funny podcast called Distorted View to my friends. I mentioned how the show often played audio clips of gay fisting noises.
"You mean the actual sound of gay fisting?" Asked the married guy, who tried as best he could to imitate the sound of gay anal fisting. That is, the actual insertion noises that one would hear with fist sliding into ass. The "hmmmpftt hhmmppt" sound effect.
"No, no." I corrected. "Just the yelling the dude would make." I paused and then tried to imitate the grunts and groans of gay men who are being anally fisted.
While we all agreed that none of us were into into anal fisting, per se, we thought it too bad I didn't take my ipod with the anal fisting show with me.
After our discussions about music and podcasts our attention turned to food. I wanted to eat at an A&W. I was on a road trip without Funions, so naturally my mood was apprehensive. I pushed the A&W idea, suggesting to my friend Joe that A&W was a great place for road trip food.
"Think of it. Shakes. Hot dogs. All prepared by beastly women with cigarettes in their mouths who fail to wear gloves, or to cover up their moles and age spots."
Joe dismisses the idea. He has a much better idea. He wants to eat at the the ice cream shop from the movie Billy Jack. When Joe talks he leans forward in sharp bursts like an autistic boy would. Out of breath and in between bows he speaks with short, terse sentences.
But I wondered if the shop had any food other than ice cream.
"Sure it does. Hamburgers."
That settles it for me and I throw my weight behind the decision to eat at Billy Jack's ice cream shoppe.
Now that we had on plan for food we decided to visit that land of Hippie chicks and Urbanity called Arcosanti.
There is surprisingly little to see there. Arcosanti is a village commune designed by hippies. I think the hippies have been building this "town" for 50 years. If hippies can't build a place to live in fifty years it's no wonder it has taken them so long to make due on their promise of building a new society.
Maybe the 60's movements have not failed failed. Hippies are just sorta disorganized and lazy. It's just going to take them a while to get around to everything.
At least Hippies make good cookies. Card shark bought three cookies from a lady behind a counter at the cafe. After buying three cookies he warned us that if we wanted a cookie for ourselves we would have to buy one because he was planning on eating all three by himself.
We all got in line to buy cookies. I think Card Shark felt guilty about eating three whole cookies, because as each one of us got to the counter he offered to buy our cookies for us. But we all refused his offer. We wanted to buy our own cookies to make sure he would feel the full intensity of his shame. The buying and eating three whole cookies just for himself. People in Kenya never get that lucky.
We sat down in the picnic area next to the cafe to eat our cookies. Married guy found a chess set. Their are chess sets everywhere in Arcosanti. Hippies love chess even though I think chess requires a certain kind of logic they rarely posses.
I am not very good at chess. Married guy convinced me to play a game with him. He also got me to believe I was in checkmate when I wasn't.
We kept playing after the Card Shark helped me find a way out of married Guy's mate. I then missed a 2 move checkmate myself, which meant Married Guy luckily escaped from becoming the first person to ever lose a chess match to me.
On our way out of Arcosanti we met a few hippy chicks. I mentioned to Card Shark as they walked past by, "That I liked hippy girls, but I wished they shaved more." I am not sure the hippy girls stopped long enough to hear me talking to them. Because they gave no reply. I guess hippy girls have a lot more things to do than you think.
We are now on our way to Prescott.
G. I. Joe lived in Prescott as a boy. He said that his physics teacher taught him that the Earth was flat. Which when you think about it seems like a reasonable belief. Otherwise we'd all be sliding off the globe like a miniature plastic army men trying to conquer Nigeria.
Stay Tuned For Part II. A Trip to Prescott. And Part III. We are Attacked by Four Wild Cougars in Jerome, Arizona.