Mysteries Await in Prophetstown

You're looking at a picture of Lake Kentucky, one of two lakes that comprise the Land Between the Lakes, the other being Lake Barkley, named for Ted Kennedy, after the Prussian-Dressing War of 1987.

It's good to be back at the helm of this blog, after letting Bob steer the ship temporarily. We're back in Springfield, Illinois, just got in Friday night. We made the trip quickly, stopping only once to treat Steak and Shake. Bob claimed to be "Freaked out" by the Midwestern fast food chain, that serves tasty steak burgers, as opposed to beef burgers, and tasty shakes. A kosher dream come true. Bob kept complaining and whining about how unhealthy our food was, and how we needed to take vitamins. As we headed up to the cash register to pay the cashier asked us, cheerfully, if we liked the food. I said it was delicious and that my buddy wanted to say a few words to the kitchen staff (who were visible behind the counter). Bob stared at me with the hatred of someone who doesn't like to be put on the spot. To his credit, Bob walked up to the counter and pretended to be deaf, even making the sign for "Thank you." Or maybe it was "Sassafras." Then he turned and left. I felt bad for the cashier and said, "he doesn't talk much, he's deaf and shy." And the guy said, "but he's got a camera." I said, "it's his job."

Bob and I spent Thursday night in Grand Rivers, Kentucky, which lays at the northern head of the Land Between the Lakes. In a small tourist town of 350, there is a nice gay couple, Chip and Michael, who are largely responsible for making Grand Rivers what is today: a tourist trap on your way to Tennessee. Chip's parents founded Patti's Settlement back in 1977 transforming Grand Rivers from a town of 349 into a town of 350, nearly overnight. For over 20 years Chip and Michael were the bedrock of the community, however begrudgingly so. They build and managed Patti's and the Iron Kettle, sat on the town council, and the state Tourism board, invested time and money in building tourist friendly docks along the harbors of Lake Kentucky. They did it all. In 2000, however, that all changed when Chip attempted to rally the town around a petition to convert from an alcohol-free "dry" town to a "wet" town. A battle broke out, which Chip and Michael describe as "ugly." Michael Lee withdrew from the Chamber of Commerce (he was the first openly gay person elected to a Chamber of Commerce in Kentucky, which was a big deal because nobody was aware that a Chamber of Commerce existed in Kentucky).

I first met Chip and Michael Lee just as the wet petition battle was heating up, back in the early fall of 2000. At the time I was halfway through walking to Atlanta when I came upon Patti's Settlement. The restaurant host thought my walking-to-Atlanta story was a hoot. "You've got to meet Michael, the owner. He just loves traveling." Wouldn't you know it, Michael the Owner appeared, we talked he comped me the dinner, and offered me lodging for the night.

At the time I was nervous. I had never met gay adults before, nor I had met many gay non-adults, or even many non-gay adults. Mostly I only met gay parakeets and refrigerators. But that was the point. The walking-to-Atlanta trip was supposed to be about new experiences.

After spending considerable hours with Michael and Chip a deeper structural truth became apparent: they were very much like a sitcomish heterosexual couple, with Michael in the role of the fussy wife and Chip in the role of the Falstaffian husband. Sort of like Bob and me. Bob has a pink bunny hat and I have a new cowboy hat. Bob is like Marie Osmond and I'm like Elvis Presley.

Chip sort of scared the bejesus of out of me back then. No longer. He's 6 foot 4 and wears denim overalls and a flamboyant yellow shirt as his working uniform. Hulking. He says he's a hound dog. Michael dresses like Jerry Seinfeld. Dress shirts tucked into stonewashed jeans and neat white sneakers. Back in 2000 Michael spent 2 hours showing me his stock portfolio. A few waiters and waitresses from Patti's showed up, so Michael had a glass of Franzia. Within 45 minutes he was on the floor, face down, supine, passed out cold. Chip liked to smoke pot and talk about a sitcom he was writing called "Ginger and Pickles." More than once he suggested I take advantage of the facilities on the premise, like the Jacuzzi on the back porch. At the time, I was exceptionally wary, the way Midwesterners are when they visit New York and accuse every Taxi Driver of ripping them off. (Or maybe that was just my mom?) I steadfastly refused, making up a story about a bad case of adult acne or eczema or enemas or spina bifida. Chip seemed a little huffy about refusal.

This time around I had Bob with me. Chip and Michael welcomed us with open arms. They've added a third member to their family, Jamie. Chip, Michael, and Jamie. The tripod. Balance. The power of 3. Three men and a Yorkie. Chip says, "We have a wonderful relationship." Jamie told me over Mexican food, in as endearing of a southern drawl as I've ever heard in Forresssttt Gump, "I've loved Chip forever." Michael said threesomes are relatively common in the community. I tried my best to contribute something complimentary, so I picked the number 3. I expostulated grandiloquently on the significance of the number three to the ancient Greeks, quoted hindu philosophy and a smattering of Christian mysticism, while also acknowledging that I didn't believe such an arrangement would fly over as well in a heterosexual relationship. "I think it has to do with the uniformity of the private parts, you know?" Nothing but blank faces.

I'll try to convey the facts of the relationship without adding a layer of salaciousness. Jamie is a young man in his thirties. He moved in with Chip and Michael about a month ago. This was after a year of correspondence. See, Jamie moved to Grand Rivers when he was fifteen from Eddytown. It seems the grandfather of the girl he impregnated ran Jamie out of town. Jamie didn't know he was gay back then. He lived in Grand Rivers for a few years, residing with a friend of Chip and Michael's. For six months when he was 21, Jamie moved in with Chip and Michael, then he left town. They thought he was just a regular good ol' boy. For several years there was no contact. Jamie Got married, had a daughter, like you would.

A year ago Chip and Michael got a letter from Jaimie declaring his love for Chip. The rest they say, is history. As we speak Chip and Michael are en route to Cancun. Jaimie will remain in Grand Rivers.

Now:

As for Bob and I, we're gearing up for our 20/20-esque investigation of the Buyno Family of Prophets-town, Illinois. Something happened to them, and we intend to find out that something was.

Until then.