so as to revolutionize
the automobile industry,
we go to a revolting cocks
concert in downtown detroit.
because, alas, we have to drive
in order to arrive. and while
that drive is only from ann arbor,
or perhaps from toledo, we feel
smug with ourselves over this
decision (and what were our
choices, after all, i mean,
that is, if we were indeed
going to go to the concert?)
also, it is decided at some
point during the evening
that after the revco concert
we’re going to cross over into
canada to catch a late show at
the gay dive in windsor. and the
night turns out to be a long one
before that, especially because
unlike the incredibly mesmerizing
and downright rapturous depeche
mode concert we’d caught about
a year ago in auburn hills, the
cocks were, well, not so much
revolting as all that, but they
gave me a pretty massive head
ache (fortunately, I do not get
migraines, or at least if i do i
am naively unaware of them,
but if i did, i’m pretty sure that’s
what i would have had by the time
they performed “beers, steers &
queers,” which was only about
halfway into the set list that
night). so, i had almost for
gotten completely about
canada, and had set my
sights on the nearest
exit, and this is where my
eyes remained until the
encores were over, my
head hurting so bad i felt
as if i might throw up.
this turns out to be pretty
typical of how i am when
it comes to attending most
such concerts, especially those
in which i experience what to
everyone else around me must
be the rarest of treats, or the
closest thing to heaven on this
side of purported heaven, and
most especially when we’re
all standing upright – when
there are no seats upon which
we may each comfortably sit while
enjoying the live sounds of whom
ever. and there wasn’t a chair in
sight, not even a folding one.
there was nothing but rowdy,
high, incoherent kids, each
bouncing here and about
and as often as not bumping
right up against each other,
and against me; i was
nearly tackled at least a
dozen times. and so the
night stretched on and on
before the echoes of the
encores had finally sub
sided and, not too terribly
long afterwards, we had
crossed the border into
canada. windsor. during
my entire stint at graduate
school in not-so-far-away
bowling green, all the gays
and gals, as each weekend
slowly approached, were al
ways champing at the bit
about windsor. are you
coming this weekend?
you can’t miss it! aw,
you’ll finally join us,
won’t you? and on
and on this went,
but i never once
did. and what
were they all pining
for, you might wonder
(that is, if you don’t
have the misfortune of
living in the area during
any portion of the 90’s)?
well, apparently it was for
one thing, and one thing
only: the naked men.
that’s right, the whole
ache for windsor was an
ache to watch men perform
in their birthday suits, live,
in front of an audience.
it sounded incredibly
sullen, if you ask me,
and i was rather proud
of the fact, gave myself
a bit of self-indulgent
credit and all puffed in
the fact that i’d never
once crossed the detroit-
canada border to witness
such a mess. so this’d
be my one and only
trip to what turns out was a
total hole in the wall joint.
i walk in with the gang,
rolling my eyes and ex
plaining my story of never
having been there, as i
no doubt had been doing
all night, and the next thing
i know all four of us are all on
high bar stools sidled up to a tall
u-shaped bar ordering drinks that
were cheap and distinctively potent.
to make a long story short, and this,
my friends, is about as far as it will go,
so here comes, walking from the top of
both sides of the “u” about six men
of a rather extreme diversity, but for
one singular thing (besides the fact that
each and all were wearing nothing but
their birthday suits): each one of those
guys had a high and mighty erection
enjoying the live sounds of whom
ever. and there wasn’t a chair in
sight, not even a folding one.
there was nothing but rowdy,
high, incoherent kids, each
bouncing here and about
and as often as not bumping
right up against each other,
and against me; i was
nearly tackled at least a
dozen times. and so the
night stretched on and on
before the echoes of the
encores had finally sub
sided and, not too terribly
long afterwards, we had
crossed the border into
canada. windsor. during
my entire stint at graduate
school in not-so-far-away
bowling green, all the gays
and gals, as each weekend
slowly approached, were al
ways champing at the bit
about windsor. are you
coming this weekend?
you can’t miss it! aw,
you’ll finally join us,
won’t you? and on
and on this went,
but i never once
did. and what
were they all pining
for, you might wonder
(that is, if you don’t
have the misfortune of
living in the area during
any portion of the 90’s)?
well, apparently it was for
one thing, and one thing
only: the naked men.
that’s right, the whole
ache for windsor was an
ache to watch men perform
in their birthday suits, live,
in front of an audience.
it sounded incredibly
sullen, if you ask me,
and i was rather proud
of the fact, gave myself
a bit of self-indulgent
credit and all puffed in
the fact that i’d never
once crossed the detroit-
canada border to witness
such a mess. so this’d
be my one and only
trip to what turns out was a
total hole in the wall joint.
i walk in with the gang,
rolling my eyes and ex
plaining my story of never
having been there, as i
no doubt had been doing
all night, and the next thing
i know all four of us are all on
high bar stools sidled up to a tall
u-shaped bar ordering drinks that
were cheap and distinctively potent.
to make a long story short, and this,
my friends, is about as far as it will go,
so here comes, walking from the top of
both sides of the “u” about six men
of a rather extreme diversity, but for
one singular thing (besides the fact that
each and all were wearing nothing but
their birthday suits): each one of those
guys had a high and mighty erection
he was chasing. and follow each they
did, all the way around the “u” to the
exit off a ramp at the top of the end
from which each had originally entered.
oh, and each of the men were
gorgeous; amazingly, stunningly,
drop dead so. by then, of course,
the concert had already become a
distant, if not indistinct, and inevitably
forgettable moment in time for the
four of us who showed up that night
together (revolting cocks, indeed!).
but that one early morning hour or
two in windsor, canada is burned
forever, at least in the all too often
naive brain that supposedly sits inside
of my head. i have yet to return, and
no doubt never will. but, oh, canada, this
lucky queen will forever remember you.
from which each had originally entered.
oh, and each of the men were
gorgeous; amazingly, stunningly,
drop dead so. by then, of course,
the concert had already become a
distant, if not indistinct, and inevitably
forgettable moment in time for the
four of us who showed up that night
together (revolting cocks, indeed!).
but that one early morning hour or
two in windsor, canada is burned
forever, at least in the all too often
naive brain that supposedly sits inside
of my head. i have yet to return, and
no doubt never will. but, oh, canada, this
lucky queen will forever remember you.
