Heaven’s Gate
19 Spring Break
ME: What could be better than Fort Lauderdale in March? Two major reasons to come to Florida. Spring break and spring training, Baseball and bikinis. What else do you need?
AUDIENCE MEMBER: Beer!
ME: Wow! I seldom have guys in my audience. That’s probably why. Is that what you’re really thinking of? Ladies, let me tell you something. If you’re with a guy who is more interested in beer than in you, then he’s probably never actually seen a nipple up close and personal. While he was sober.
I’m not a prude. I don’t mind a drink occasionally for those who are of age. I’ve certainly enjoyed a bottle of champagne with my lover. Even a shot of Triple Crown Bourbon. But let me tell you a fact of life. If your guy has to get drunk before he’ll look deeply into your eyes and say ‘I love you,’ it’s not you he’s talking to.
Picture yourself ten years from now with a baby sucking your left tit and a toddler pulling at your right leg when you hear that same voice from the TV room yelling, ‘Beer, Betty!’ That’s alcohol at its best. It makes us so clever and witty. ‘Yeah, man. Went out with Betty last night. We got so plastered. It was great. We did it in the sand and when she came she barfed. Yeah! Cool, huh? I barfed right on top of it.’
So witty and clever. Really, Betty. I know that story is true because I was out walking on the beach this morning and saw the bun-prints in the sand and a puddle of barf next to them. When is high tide? We need something to wash away the evidence.
But that beach!
I’m FBI. Don’t try to hide the dope. It just draws attention to you. FBI means Farm Boy of Indiana. I want to tell you that we don’t see thousands of babes in bikinis out on the farm. What do you call that? A whole bunch of teen and twenty-something beauties in bikinis on a beach. You have a pride of lions, a murder of crows, a pod of whales. I found out that occasionally down here you find an aggregation of manatees. But a thousand beautiful, bikini-clad college coeds?
ROSE: [From off-stage.] A bevy of beauties.
ME: Talk about a beauty! Rose, come and join me. [Joins on stage and kiss.] You see, I’m not actually deprived of beauty in Indiana. In fact, we have nearly our whole family with us this week and every single one of them is beautiful.
ROSE: We love you, Brian.
ME: Well, help me out, Rose. Bevy of beauties is kind of an old-fashioned term. Look out here at all these beautiful people. We need a term.
ROSE: A covey of coeds?
ME: A giggle of girls?
ROSE: A warmth of women.
ME: Ooh. You’re saying they’re all hot, aren’t you!
ROSE: Open your eyes, Brian.
ME: Mmm. I see a legion of ladies. A passel of pulchritude. A felicity of females.
ELAINE: [From off-stage.] A chatty of chicks!
ME: Elaine! Come and join us, darling. [Comes to stage and kisses.] Ladies and gentlemen, Elaine Frost, host of the daytime talk show, Chick Chat, and one of the reasons I stay sane during those long, cold Indiana winters.
ELAINE: I love you, Brian.
ME: I’m so glad you joined me here.
ELAINE: We’re working the same crowd this week, Brian. I’m taping in the morning and you are taping in the afternoon.
ME: And I’m so glad you’ve agreed to be my guest this afternoon after you worked all morning on Chick Chat.
ELAINE: You have to get up early Thursday morning to be my guest. Isn’t this awfully early for you to tape your show? It’s only three o’clock.
ME: Well, we didn’t want to run into the party hour.
ELAINE: Who else is on the show today?
ME: I’m really excited to have the incredibly talented Skylar Manx with us tonight. The party tonight features Skylar singing with her band right here at the National Delta Conference. Speaking of the Deltas, we’ll have Delta alum and San Francisco television news anchorwoman, Susan Reynolds, with us. And just for eye candy, we’ve got comedian Rob Sellers. I love it when guys get to be the eye candy.
ELAINE: Trust me, you’ll get tired of it.
ME: Right now, let’s give this over to Skylar with her new hit single, ‘Meet Me on the Beach, Baby.’
We finished taping our first show not long after we’d normally have begun in most venues. Our stage area was stripped and the band set up. A consortium of national fraternities and sororities had booked the entire Sheraton on South Beach Park. They had a big pavilion set up on the beach side of the building where the shows were being taped and the entertainment was held at night. It appeared that the Deltas were not the only ones having a conference and the convention center was booked with meetings of fraternities, sororities, executive committees, and hospitality suites. I guess the hotel benefited, as well, from having actual organizations policing the grounds. It was no secret that every room had at least twice as many people staying in it as was recommended, but having some organization acting responsibly was a big boost. Some of the areas up and down the beach looked pretty trashed already from last week’s crowd.
While Delta National was organizing the events, they weren’t the only group participating. I found out that Skylar’s performance was actually booked and paid for by Chi Rho fraternity. The music and dancing spread all the way to the water’s edge. In a similar way, tickets for both Elaine’s show and my show were available to all attendees at the beach. We each benefited from having a stage so near the action and from the active way the Greek societies were recruiting audiences. There were lots of bikinis and board shorts in our audiences, but alcohol was kept to a minimum until the evening entertainment. They had a wristband procedure where once a person’s ID was checked and confirmed they were of age, a band like one from a hospital was attached to the wrist. That didn’t do anything to help the underage drinking that went on all over town, but it prevented the hotel from serving anyone who wasn’t legal. The color of the bands changed daily.
And I had a blast walking around on the beach with one or more of my own bevy of beauties, often dressed in the skimpiest of bikinis imaginable. I mean, really. Put Rose or Courtney in a bikini and just watch eyes turn. By Wednesday, people had begun to recognize us as well and we were often stopped to get a picture with a fan.
Wednesday afternoon, I was dressed in my formal gi. This was a short version of the silk brocade Leonard had created for Amber’s birthday. The jacket was sleeveless and the trousers were short. I had a nice pair of Ecco sandals I wore with it and a Panama hat that made the whole combination look rather exotic. This was going to be an important day for us. Yeah, the Ides of March. What an auspicious occasion.
ME: I’ve always been a little slow. This is my fifth year in college and is the first time I’ve made it to Florida during spring break. Can you believe that? They held me back because I hadn’t completed my spring break requirement.
I have to admit, I had very little to go on when it came to forming expectations for being here. Revenge of the Nerds. That’s pretty much everything that I had on which to base my opinions of fraternity and sorority life and spring break. I confess, I once rented the video of Where the Boys Are. I guess for the 60s that was a really racy movie. I thought it was just kind of sad.
I expected to find massive parties all over the beach where all the athletes showed off their physical prowess and all the women were available. Heck of an image to have, isn’t it? Oh sure, I walked on the beach and saw demonstrations of physical prowess. With a Frisbee. And what’s the name of that little ball they kick around while they’re balanced on one foot? A Hacky Sack? They remind me of the beanbags we tossed around in kindergarten so we wouldn’t hurt each other. But that’s athletic prowess for you in our world today. I didn’t see one game of touch football or a single beach volleyball tournament. And not one beach ball!
One of the things that I couldn’t help noticing, though, was the parade. Maybe it would be better to call it a promenade. This seems to be the major mating ritual of spring break. It comes in two varieties. There are women lying on the beach soaking up the rays. I have an image of some celestial hand coming down with a spatula to flip them over when they are done on one side. I’m using an SPF 90 sunblock and I’m still getting burned out here. But those sunbathing are not sleeping. They are watching. The games of Frisbee and Hacky Sack progress up and down the beach. These guys will pause in their progress wherever there seems to be a likely collection of girls and play their game in front of them. If there’s no interest being shown, they progress a little farther up the beach. That’s the promenade of men.
The promenade of women is a little different. If there is no audience for their perfectly tanned bodies lying on the beach, they ‘wake up’, stretching as if they haven’t a care in the world. And why should they. If they aren’t burnt, they are still in the sun with their feet in the sand. A few young women join together and walk toward the water. Their mincing little steps on the hot sand only serve to set other parts of their body in hypnotizing motion. Once at the water, they dip those dainty feet to cool them and begin the women’s promenade. They walk along the water’s edge, sometimes pausing to splash a little gently around each other’s ankles, but never high enough to actually get wet. These pauses are often near where guys are tossing the Frisbee and are frequently the cause of a throw going astray—toward the water.
Eventually, the women will spot one of the ubiquitous food pavilions on the beach and go to pick up an ice cream or soft drink. Then they turn and parade back to where they left their blankets, sandals, and other accoutrements. The next time they decide to promenade, it will be in the opposite direction, always drawing attention back to home base.
Now I want to ask you ladies a question that men all over the world are asking. When you bought that ice cream cone, where did you have the money hidden?
I’ve had the good fortune to stroll that beach with a beautiful woman in a bikini. I know for a fact that there was no place within that tiny scrap of fabric that she could have hidden a dime without it being obvious. But like magic—poof, here’s the money for my ice cream cone.
Just so you know, when you see the intent stares of men following you on the beach, we are not simply being lecherous. We are trying to answer that age-old question: Where are her pockets?
We have a great show lined up this afternoon. Music by The Last Resort. Comedy from funny Irish lady Kiera O’Connor. And my special guest today, television entertainment reporter, Roslyn Knightly, with a very special announcement you won’t want to miss!
ME: Welcome to XX/XY, Roslyn.
ROZ: Thank you, Brian. Isn’t the energy out here amazing? I don’t remember ever having that kind of energy when I was in college.
ME: In fact, I did a little more investigating of you since the last time we had a talk and I discovered that you were a Delta in college.
ROZ: I was a Delta when I was in college and am happy to say I still am a Delta. Our sisterhood is for life, ladies! [Cheers.] Brian, I want to know something: You’ve been on the air for seven weeks now on CEN, including this week, but you’ve never talked about your celebrity status. You’ve questioned and probed at your audiences and issues of respect, reputation, kindness, charity, morals, ethics, and a whole lot more. As an entertainment reporter, I want to ask, how are you dealing with your status as a hot young celebrity?
ME: I’ve never thought of myself in any of those three terms, Roz. Me, hot? Take a look at that beach out there if you want to see hot. Both male and female. As to young, you know I gave up my role on Young Cooking in favor of someone who was actually young. I was told I was getting too old for my audience.
ROZ: But you have been a celebrity for several years. Now, with a nightly talk show, you are more in the public eye than ever. How has that affected you?
ME: Mostly it makes me tired, Roz. One thing I’ve made a practice of on this show is always being honest, so I’ll lay it on the line. It all looks good on TV, but it’s hard work.
ROZ: What’s hardest?
ME: I think being ‘on’ all the time is one of the two things I find most difficult. My cooking shows were all very intimate. They were twenty minutes long with a close, comfortable, small audience. And they were done in a kitchen, which is my favorite environment. When I walk out on the stage in front of fifty to a hundred expectant people, I feel exposed. There isn’t even a stove between us.
ROZ: You said that was one of two things. What’s the other?
ME: I miss my family.
ROZ: In the interview I did with you two years ago, we talked about your unusual family and that topic hasn’t come to the forefront of your show yet. Oh, this week, we’ve met one or two of your, what you call, cónyuge, which in every sense but legally are your wives. I took the liberty of asking all your family who are here in Florida this week to come on stage with us.
We continued to chat as I introduced each of my cónyuge and my hearthmate Josh. Everyone had worn a house gi, but there were several different styles. Everyone loved it when I picked up the babies and Matthew joined me in my chair. He proudly announced, “Papa talk!” I kissed each of my lovers and hugged Josh before they filed off the stage.
ROZ: Is that everyone?
ME: Almost. Unfortunately, Med School doesn’t have as flexible a schedule as college, so our hearthmate Angela is still slaving away in Bloomington. And my cónyuge, Lieutenant Whitney Anderson of the United States Marine Corps, is in training in Quantico, Virginia. The Corps doesn’t let recruits off for spring break, either. I miss Whitney all the time and hope for her continued safety. I thank her and all who serve with her for their dedication to keeping our country safe.
ROZ: Now, about celebrity status…
ME: Wasn’t I supposed to interview you on this show?
ROZ: Well, I had an ulterior motive when I accepted your invitation. I’m here to make a very special announcement.
ME: What’s up?
ROZ: I’ve officially retired from television broadcasting for the time being. I graduated from Northwestern with a degree in journalism and feel I’ve only been scratching the surface in broadcasting. I’m returning to my roots of print media as the editor-in-chief of a brand new magazine published by the Lockhurst Media Group, which also owns CEN. We have preview copies available here for people to look at and take home if you’d like. We only ask that you not drop them on the beach. We’ll happily take all used copies back so they can be properly disposed of. Please don’t litter beautiful Fort Lauderdale.
ME: Roz, the name of this magazine…
ROZ: …is XX/XY: Woman/Man.
ME: As all of you must surely know, this is not a surprise to me. CEN is also part of the Lockhurst Media Group, and Hearthstone Entertainment is a partner. But this magazine, Roz: is it just a fan mag?
ROZ: No, Brian. In spite of the fact that this premier issue covers a lot about you and about your family in the way we’ve just discussed, and even though we hope you will become a regular contributor, XX/XY is simply a magazine about navigating the complex relationships and process of becoming men and women in today’s unsteady world. We had several intense discussions in our planning process. It seems there are a lot of magazines about and for women of every age. There are a variety of men’s magazines ranging from the pornographic to the elegantly aloof. But there really isn’t anything out there that focuses on how we relate to each other. This magazine isn’t about how to seduce your boyfriend or cheat on your wife. It’s how the two of you—or more—can build a great relationship, whether it is for the weekend or for your life.
ME: And even though we have a preview issue out today, the actual launch date for XX/XY is September. I want to thank my good friend, Roslyn Knightly, for interviewing me this afternoon. Thanks to Kiera O’Connor for her comic stylings and to The Last Resort for tonight’s music. Thank you again to Delta National for organizing and promoting this week’s XX/XY shows from here in beautiful Fort Lauderdale, Florida.
Comments
Please feel free to send comments to the author at devon@devonlayne.com.