Friday, September 11, 2009

Is this me?

Last night was indoctrination night at the Elks Lodge. Wifey and I arrived early to meet two friends for drinks (they're also members). After an hour or so of socializing and drinking it was time for the indoctrination dinner. Our friends begged off saying they had things to do and left. Later on in the evening I started feeling that I too should have seized the opportunity to leave sooner and not later.

Anyway, we walked into the dining room and sat at one of four tables reserved for the indoctrinates. There were two couples already seated. We introduced ourselves and sat down.

"Where's your name tags?" someone at the table asked and motioned that he'd get a couple for us.

Me: We don't do name tags.

And we don't When we do I write stupid things on them like Slippery When Wet or John Holmes - King Weenie or maybe Douche of Earl. Name tags are for the other people who can't remember your name.

Then the evening topper was when one of the poo bahs of the lodge and his wife joined us for dinner. I had met with him in August to be interviewed as part of the process to join the lodge. In August there was no interview but a very long conversation that was all about him, the lodge and nothing about me. Nothing. No interest in knowing anything about the person interested in joining the Order of the Elks.

At dinner this old boy was in identical form. He bored to tears the table with stories all about him and the club never once attempting to know anything about the others at the table. Basically we're talking a one way conversation.

Dinner was beef chips over noodles which added yet another special touch to the evening. The meal brought back memories of days in the military where chipped beef on toast was fondly referred to as Shit on a Shingle. And it really was just that.

We had the honor of also sitting through 60 minutes of the same old boy addressing all of the indoctrinees with a speech identical to the one I sat through in August and which I had also heard part of at the dinner table that evening. If nothing else I could pass on the spot a test with questions concerning the history of the Elks Club which could also contain questions about the old boy's life on this earth.

Through out dinner and the indoctrination speech I leaned over to Wifey more than a couple of times and whispered, "This is not me, is it? Let's go. I can't stand this shit. Bring on a root canal. I'll take that over this."

We stuck it out. I figured the cheap drinks and eats would make up in the long run for the torture suffered that evening.

Now, if I can just make it through the initiation process next Thursday night . .. .

The photo: At the lake. Two eagles nests. There's a plastic bag stuck just to the right of the top nest. Looks like a white bird but is not.

There were eagles around the nest that day but never could catch them on the nest. They're beauties.


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6 comments:

Joker_SATX said...

Bob,

I was an Elk. That is where I got my scars and decided I needed to wear the makeup in order to be able to look myself in the mirror.

I wouldn't do it if I were you. I would be on your boat Thursday evening, having a glass of wine or something...

If you are hell bent on sticking it through. Do yourself a favor and take a nail and drive it into your foot. Trust me, it will feel much better than what you are gonna go through....

Bob said...

I'm heading to the shed to find a 12 inch nail.

La Roo said...

Why are we doing this? I just don't get these things. It's so old boys clubbish. That's not Bob.

Bob said...

That's what I've been thinking, Laroo. But HEY! Maybe I can bring a new prospective or these guys and change things. I've never been one for accepting status quo. I've been a Lion and I've been an Optimist as I'm usually a member of a service club . . . and had lots of fun doing that. Didn't want to be a Lion here (the clubs I visited . . . every member had one foot in the grave) and tried to form an Optimist Club . . . advertised for members to help organize one and came up empty. So, here I sit. Cheap drinks. Cheap food. Old chicks I can hit on. What more can I ask for? :) Well, I could but it doesn't do any good.

La Roo said...

Let's start a new club called Split Snail Slugs. It would get peoples attention, put a smile on their faces. We can help the slow, so that would cover your service oriented needs. We can have killer barbeques and open a nude beach at the north end of your lake.
So there. :)

Bob said...

Laroo: I'm game. Come up with Hubby and let's try it.

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Whiskeytown Lake, Very Northern California, United States