From: "Professor Pressure" <Ha@haha.com>
Many go to XDay for the event, St. Joyce and I go to
BE an event. To that
end, we were successful.
The food flowed in great abundance and all was well
prepared and of good
quality. I do have to admit though that this year it
was like walking
through mud to get everything out. While we did get
slack from the
preparations, this year is just wasn't the dance that
it has been in years
past. It was work.
We did realize a few things though this year. In an
highly mobile
environment, if you stay in the same place long enough,
everyone will
eventually come to you. This was a good thing for us
and we had a steady
stream of some of the finest SubGenius the organization
has to offer. I
opted to stay quite sober this year and as a result
found that I was very
alert and sharp. I found that I was very relaxed and
speaking to be quite
comfortable. I can actually be a bit shy and was happy
to discover that I
wasn't having any difficulty with fumbling my words
as I will often do
around people I admire (as many of you I do). The pressure
was off and I
was, for the most part, just visiting with old friends.
One of the real
highlights was seeing Revs Jim and John and again combining
our camps.
They've not been for the last few years and seeing them
again was most
excellent. I could go on and make a list of folk who
we were also
exceptionally glad to see but for fear that I'd forget
someone I'll simply
leave it that it was good to see everyone.
We also titled this XDay "The Year We Got Old".
We saw signs of it
everywhere. Many of us old silverbacks are actually
becoming silverbacks.
There was a lot more grey this year than I've ever seen.
Many of us were
experiencing various aches and pains. Most of the folks
I'd mentioned this
observation to agreed that it would seem that we are
indeed 10 years older
than we were in 1998 (facts being facts). Many of us
who have certain
"ritual clothing" (for me it's my old sleeveless
Army shirt) have now begun
putting these items away and only bringing them forth
for events such as
this. These articles are starting to look very worn
and delicate, frail and
tattered but with a definate story to tell. I don't
mention this though as
a bad thing. Age and marriage are those things that
the media always tells
us are things that we should dread. Age brings ailments
and decrepitude
they tell us and marriage is the "old ball and
chain". It is easier to
state these things in simple and mindless terms than
the actual complex
realities. I for one am both happily married and happily
aging. Let the
conspiracy stick that one in its collective ass.
Seeing everyone aside, the best part of this XDay was
the trip to and from
Brushwood. St. Joyce and I enjoyed each others company
immensely. We set
our vehicles navigation system and trusted it as it
took us down scenic dirt
roads with precipitous drops down rocky mountainsides.
We stopped when we
felt like it and simply surfed the luck plane which
led us to some truly
excellent eating establishments and road-side weirdness.
We saw signs for
"Jesus Power Explosion", "Honk for Bait"
and a young girl running down the
road wearing a T-Shirt that identified her as a member
of the "Beaver Club".
Sunday, slightly more than half-way home, we stopped
in one of our favorite
little towns in Pennsylvania, checked in to a nice hotel
and slept the sleep
of the dead.
I have been cooking and cleaning all day today. The
eggs Codini gave us
have been turned into 4 quiches that now sit on my stove
cooling. The ham,
peas and onions that we brought along that didn't get
eaten have been added
to a cheese sauce, layered over tortellini and is now
sitting in my freezer,
soon to be vacuum sealed in preparation for a Winter
that I know is coming.
The quiche we made will join them in the freezer and
eating them later this
year will remind us of XDay. The camping gear is stowed,
the field kitchen
cleaned and put away. Things are returning to normalish.
As always, I'd like to thank Rev. Stang and the organizers
of this event.
You are all superior mutants.
Respectfully Submitted,
Professor Pontius Pressure and Saint Joyce