my first evening in Madison
The next few posts I make, barring any unexpected surprises, will be catching everyone up on the last couple months of my life. The posts won't be strictly chronological though, so pay attention. Today, my first evening in Madison.
My first evening in Madison began after I arrived at my friend Reid's house after a long drive from Ann Arbor, Michigan. Reid and his family (one wife, three small children) live in a pretty posh suburban neighborhood in Madison. How posh? Let's just say it's posh enough that I wouldn't feel comfortable calling it a 'hood. It's posh enough that the neighborhood has its own summer camp. And the culminating event of the neighborhood's summer camp happened to fall on the evening of my first night in Madison.
It happened to rain that evening (little did I know that it would rain almost every other day for the first month and a half I was in Madiosn. This did wonders for my depression). Because of the rain, the summer camp event had to be moved indoors, to a gym. So about 45 minutes after I arrive in Madison, I find myself in a gym with about 25 parents (most of whom were around my age), 40 or so kids ranging from toddlers to 7-8 year olds, and 10 or so teenage camp counselors. Also, there was pizza (my quest for decent pizza in Wisconsin may merit its own post at some point). There were cookies. And, astoundingly, a keg. Welcome to Wisconsin, Padraig.
Those of you who are familiar with my final months in NY know that my lifestyle tended towards what I might accurately describe as a "rockstar bachelor hedonist" lifestyle. Well, maybe sensitive "rockstyar bachelor hedonist." In any event, I was unprepared for the awesome display of domesticity. I was confounded by the presence of the keg at this type of function (though I sure as shit drank a bunch of beer). I have since found out that in Wisconsin, by law, if any event has a certain number of adults, beer must served. I'm serious.
What made the evening just a little more ridiculous was that each camp counselor had written something for each camper and got up and read it and handed the camper a certificate. A you can imagine, this took hours. Nobody heard a word the counselors said. The kids ran apeshit around the gym. The parents drank beer and vainly tried to keep their kid from stealing some toy from some smaller kid, and on it went.
All the adults spoke to me in an apologetic tone. "You must want to turn around and go back to Brooklyn," one mother said, as she scanned the room for one of her kids (who had just knocked a beer onto some other kid). It's possible that disbelief was dripping from my face, but I actually was doing just fine. The whole thing was hilarious to me. Which makes me think she was apologizing to herself...
My first evening in Madison began after I arrived at my friend Reid's house after a long drive from Ann Arbor, Michigan. Reid and his family (one wife, three small children) live in a pretty posh suburban neighborhood in Madison. How posh? Let's just say it's posh enough that I wouldn't feel comfortable calling it a 'hood. It's posh enough that the neighborhood has its own summer camp. And the culminating event of the neighborhood's summer camp happened to fall on the evening of my first night in Madison.
It happened to rain that evening (little did I know that it would rain almost every other day for the first month and a half I was in Madiosn. This did wonders for my depression). Because of the rain, the summer camp event had to be moved indoors, to a gym. So about 45 minutes after I arrive in Madison, I find myself in a gym with about 25 parents (most of whom were around my age), 40 or so kids ranging from toddlers to 7-8 year olds, and 10 or so teenage camp counselors. Also, there was pizza (my quest for decent pizza in Wisconsin may merit its own post at some point). There were cookies. And, astoundingly, a keg. Welcome to Wisconsin, Padraig.
Those of you who are familiar with my final months in NY know that my lifestyle tended towards what I might accurately describe as a "rockstar bachelor hedonist" lifestyle. Well, maybe sensitive "rockstyar bachelor hedonist." In any event, I was unprepared for the awesome display of domesticity. I was confounded by the presence of the keg at this type of function (though I sure as shit drank a bunch of beer). I have since found out that in Wisconsin, by law, if any event has a certain number of adults, beer must served. I'm serious.
What made the evening just a little more ridiculous was that each camp counselor had written something for each camper and got up and read it and handed the camper a certificate. A you can imagine, this took hours. Nobody heard a word the counselors said. The kids ran apeshit around the gym. The parents drank beer and vainly tried to keep their kid from stealing some toy from some smaller kid, and on it went.
All the adults spoke to me in an apologetic tone. "You must want to turn around and go back to Brooklyn," one mother said, as she scanned the room for one of her kids (who had just knocked a beer onto some other kid). It's possible that disbelief was dripping from my face, but I actually was doing just fine. The whole thing was hilarious to me. Which makes me think she was apologizing to herself...
posted by Gumshoe at 7:27 PM
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