4th of July!

Can you feel the excitement? I know you can. It’s palpable, in your face, adrenaline-charging energy. It’s the Super Bowl of fun and it’s on our doorstep.

Sure, you can scramble across town to some parking lot somewhere, look at the sky for ten minutes, say “ooohhh” in synchronicity with a crowd of dazzled light show enthusiasts, say three different times, “Was that the finale? I think it was. No wait. This is the finale. We better get out of here before people start leaving” then jump in the car and say, “What is this idiot doing? Oh this guy is an idiot. Show’s over, pal! Vertical pedal on the right!”

You can do this, but can we be frank for a moment? (Frank won’t mind. I borrow him all the time.)

Fireworks are cool, but are they worth the aggravation? I mean, maybe if it were David Blaine shooting them out of his fingertips and blowing them out with ice breath. I’d endure the traffic and crowds to see that.

But no. It’s a couple of guys pressing buttons.

This is not to take away from the profession. Sitting anywhere near a pile of gun powder to entertain people for a brief period of time is more than I’m willing to do. The best you’ll get from me is a thirty-second sparkler show before I throw it on the ground. That’s my finale. “Did you see that? One of those sparks almost hit my arm. That was a close one! You stay here and make sure it goes out. Ta-da!”

So is there a point to all of this? Nope. I like making fun of things.

Oh wait. There is a point. Dammit. I always forget the point.

Dammit. I forgot it again.

Oh well it wasn’t important. So anyway, sparklers. Exploding fire on a stick. Here ya go, kids! Have fun!

Ok I remembered. Fireworks are cool, but they are nowhere near as cool as what’s happening at Serendipity Park on 4th of July weekend.

There will be live music, there will be karaoke, there will be games all day, there will be dancing, there will be relaxing poolside, napping, delicious food, AND sparklers.

Then after you’re done watching my fireworks show finale and throwing away the burned out stick, rather than get in your car and yell at decent people, you can hit the dance floor before a short walk to a glorious slumber. Doesn’t that sound better than unreasonably flipping off people and honking?

I don’t want to beat a dead horse, but I don’t want a beat a live one, either. I never really thought about the first guy that came up with the saying. I’m guessing he came across a guy hitting a dead horse. If I were him, I wouldn’t have talked to that guy.

“You know, you shouldn’t beat a dead horse.”

And that was probably the last thing he ever said. That’s why it’s a saying now.

Anyway, space is filling up fast. I’m not even sure there is any. I could ask, but I’d have to pick up the phone and that’s a whole thing.

I’m a busy man. I can’t be picking up the phone every once in a while and getting answers to simple questions. I have people to see, lunches to do, next levels of video games to achieve, walls to stare at (they aren’t going to stare at themselves).

So you are just going to have to pick up the phone and call. Let me get the number.

Actually, you get the number. Here you go.








The Breakfast Club

If you read this blog, you’ve probably read several stories about my drunken adventures, but I don’t think that paints an accurate picture of what happens here. It just paints pictures of what happens to me from time to time.

You see, I don’t drink that often, but when I do, guard your cup.

What I often fail to point out are all the fun and games that happen during the day. I mean, I point them out, but I don’t experience many of them because they happen in the sun. That thing is hot. Some people like it. Plants love it. I think it’s out to get me.

So if you’re one of those “sunnies” that likes to do things while that obnoxious ball of fire shines on you, then I don’t think there’s a better place to be. On the other hand, if you’re like me and the sun is your enemy, you can simply enjoy the peace somewhere in the shade.

When the sun goes down is when I go up. I did make an exception yesterday and played some kan-jam, but that was under the perfect amount of cloud cover that seemed to last, coincidentally, exactly as long as I wanted to play. I’m pretty sure I’m controlling them with my mind.

After having had a ton of fun the night before, I promised my attendance that evening and even went one further. I had organized a 1 am breakfast plan, secured the willing chef and hosts for this early morning affair, pronounced my intention to go to the store and buy a feast then return with my party hat firmly secured to my scalp.

Honestly, I was excited. There are few things better than eating bacon at 1 am. (I can only think of one and you can only do that in space.) In fact, all my breakfast talk made me hungry, so for the second time that day I stopped by the cafe’ for a delicious cheese steak sandwich. Then I came home and had a bowl of Lucky Charms. Then I had a bowl of Lucky Charms.

I was quickly learning my mouth had written a check my body couldn’t cash. My account hadn’t only been overdrawn, but my body bank took my mouth credit card and cut it up right in front of me. It was pretty embarrassing.

After going through all that aggravation, my account was closed and there was nothing left to do but pass out and drool.

At about 10 pm, a friend lightly knocked on my door to make sure I was ok. I tripped out and assured him I was, thanked him for his concern and really did appreciate the sentiment.

At about 1 am, a different friend stopped by, yelled my name for 5 minutes, banged on my windows then knocked down my fence.

“Mayo! Breakfast!! Come on!! (Bang! Kapow! Shaboom!)”

(In his defense, you really don’t have to do much for my fence to fall down. You can pretty much just lean on it or give it a dirty look. I designed it to be removed easily and make people feel bad when they push on it.)

His persistence impressed me. Each time I thought he had left, he’d bang on a different window. After realizing how many windows I have, I shuffled out of bed to greet him.

Mayo: Ugh.

Friend: I think I broke your fence.

Mayo: Ugh.

Friend: Come on, we’re having breakfast.

Mayo: (Cocks mind pistol) Ugh. Something something. (closes one eye, takes aim)

Friend: You’re not coming?

Mayo: Ugh. (searches mind for the right words) Ugh. (shakes head)

Friend: Ok well I just thought I’d stop by and break your fence. (He didn’t really say that, but that’s what I heard.)

I thanked him for stopping by and really did appreciate the sentiment. After all, I had put the wheels in motion on this thing then jumped out of the driver’s seat. It was nice to see someone had taken the wheel and was driving the bus (through my fence).

I wasn’t really mad at all. As I laid in bed, I could only think of how great it was that this was happening. 1 am breakfasts aren’t exactly a rarity around here and happened long before I arrived. And the thing is I’ve met about 2 people who are still around the clubhouse in the early hours of the morning that aren’t interested in jamming a pound of hash browns into their faces.

So it occurs to me we need a club. More to the point, a “Breakfast Club.”

This club might have existed before and even called “The Breakfast Club.” I don’t know. If it had, it’s time to start it up again.

All you really need to gain membership into this club is an interest in putting eggs, cheese and sausage between two biscuit halves (you will be tested). You have to be awake, willing to help with dishes, perhaps toss a modest amount of cash in for food and you can’t break my things. (Unless you are the host.  Apparently, the host gets to come to my house and break stuff. I learned that last night. )

I can only imagine the good time I missed. I’ll admit to lying there with dances of butter in my head, and I did almost get up to partake in the fun, but I’m super lazy. Anyway, I bet it was awesome.

I’ve got a big day planned today. It’s officially “Stupid guy things” day in the park. I’ve never participated in one (or at least an official one). I don’t know what the exact plan is, but I’ll do my part. I made a cool hat out of fireworks, sharpened a bunch of sticks for stick wars (and other sharp-stick related events), made a tank out of a refrigerator box, 2 skateboards and a rifle, and of course, I put together a nice chicken salad with walnuts and a to-die-for balsamic vinaigrette. I hope they like it.

For those of you searching on Google for the movie “The Breakfast Club” and just read a story about naked people eating eggs, ha ha.





2014: A Space Odyssey

So I was down in Florida for the winter because I am allergic to cold weather. I’m now at the Dip, because I also have an allergy to extreme heat. I basically have an allergy to anything other than the optimum temperature.

Call me a wussy. I don’t care. I would call you names in return, but no one wins that game (even though I would probably win).

I used to be pretty immature, but that was way back in… Wednesday. I’m a different person now and I refuse to be drawn into a battle of insults. I’ll simply give you the finger and move on. I might also moon you. Or throw something at you, but not something that will hurt you. Just something that will express my distaste for your childish antics. I’ve grown up. Why can’t you? Whatever.

What was I saying before you started calling me names?

Right. The park looks fantastic. A ton of improvements were made over the winter months. The last time I was here, I even helped paint something. And if I help paint something, you know there’s something important going on. I just don’t offer to help people paint things, and if I’m asked, I pretend not to speak English.

“Toe? No moto curdin tog. Trussendor!”

(“Trussendor” means “Good luck” in Mayonese.)

So what have you been doing? Go ahead and start telling me. I can hear you through your computer.

Really? That’s awesome! Go on.

That’s funny! I can’t believe she said that. What did Bill do? I bet his face was red. Anyway, enough about you. Let me tell you what’s going on with me.

Oh, I did that already? Yeah but I want to do it some more. Today I went down to the creek. Don’t tell anyone, but I was completely naked. Shhhh…

Each time I’m down there, I’m just amazed at how beautiful it is. I know I have a picture of it somewhere, and I could find it, but that would require searching in folders and looking at things with my eyes and stuff. I’m feeling a little too relaxed to go all willy-nilly clicking buttons and endlessly scrolling. You click around. I’m on vacation. Here’s the link.

4 Days later…

Friday night was awesome. We played pool, sang karaoke… It was just an excellent time. Many don’t know this about me, but I sing like an angel (being torn apart by lions).

Saturday was even better. I was able to manage to get out of bed long enough to shower and eat 2 of Mama Sue’s famous prime rib sandwiches (and cheese sticks, but only because I needed some vegetables).

Oh and this was cool. One of the members brought a telescope about the size of my home. It looked like a laser cannon and I’m still not convinced it isn’t one. It even had a remote control. You just punched in some numbers and bam! Cool space things.

Saturn is amazing. Did you know it’s a planet? I know. And those rings! If you haven’t seen Saturn’s rings through a laser cannon, you must.

I asked him when we were going to blow it up, but he kept saying it doesn’t work that way. I think he just hasn’t pressed the right buttons yet.

After the astronomy show, I found myself very tired. I think it was the combination of the late night before, the barely chewed ball of meat, cheese and bread in my stomach, and perhaps some disappointment for not getting to see a planet explode. (Whatever. I guess I’ll have to do it myself.)

It’s Sunday now, and as usual, wall-to-wall fun is planned. Some will be playing a variety of games like horseshoes, kan jam, water volleyball and a whole lot more. Others will be basking in the sun with a good book. There will even be a guy building a tiny death star and calculating how to get it into orbit with bungee cords and flares. There is simply no place like this on earth.

Last thing. My friend Gus started a blog to chronicle his own experiences living at Serendipity Park. He paints a really excellent picture of what life is like in the park. Please give it a read.


Things That Don’t Happen At The Dip

I’m often reminded why I came to Serendipity Park. Things happen sometimes that make me realize the world can be a real a-hole. (Pardon the harsh language. I get passionate about stuff.) I’m also reminded of why I try not to leave my house too much.

Last night I stopped by a liquor store to pick up some fruit and carrots, but I guess they were out, so I bought a bottle of whiskey. They had an ATM and I needed to grab some cash for my big night, which was basically going over to see some friends. I knew they’d be disappointed about the no fruit thing, but I was hoping the bottle would kill that pain.

Ok so now I’m at the ATM, minding my own business, maybe kicking it a little because I always forget my pin and blame the robot, just stuff I do. This is when the band of giant, smashed to the gills skinheads came through the door and fortunately, they were looking for trouble. (I say “fortunately” because I am sarcastic and that’s also stuff I do.)

I could now hear the largest one speaking to the kindly Indian gentlemen behind the counter. I won’t go into the details of what he said, but basically it was something about how he’s only ever had sex with a white woman and that the shop owners could ask anyone to verify that he was telling the truth. And fortunately (sarcasm again), he chose me to deliver testimony on his behalf.

Monstrous Drunk Skinhead: Ask the guy at the ATM. He’ll tell you.

Mayo: Uh oh.

MDS: Hey. You. At the ATM.

Mayo: (Ignoring… ignoring… praying…)

MDS: Hey! You at the ATM!

Mayo: Me? (I knew he was talking to me, but the mind game was now afoot.)

MDS: Yeah. Come here.

Mayo: No.

So this is one of those moments in life where everything freeze-frames and a voiceover comes in to explain why you should have done something else. Then it unfreezes and you hear…

MDS:  I said come here, bitch!

This is when the training kicks in. I did a quick assessment of the situation, realized I was screwed and began to plan my next move, which was something along the lines of explaining to the shop keepers that everything this man was saying is 100% fact. I would even be willing to swear on a Bible and offer to run out and get one. And then, opportunity strikes. This was the moment they would realize they weren’t dealing with your average, ordinary citizen. This would be the day they walked into the wrong store, at the wrong time and picked the wrong huckleberry.

MDS’s drunk buddy to MDS: Hey (something something)

For a split second, MSD was distracted and no longer had his full focus on me. If I was going to act, it had to be now. I looked around to see what was close by. Something I could pick up and wield with speed and precision. If only I had some duct tape and a bungee cord I could at least fashion some nun-chucks with a couple of champagne bottles, but I had nothing but my fists of fury. And because those wouldn’t do, I ran away. I am nobody’s bitch.

I had a long drive to reflect on it and by the time I reached my friends, the story involved twelve skinheads, a sword, a couple of Matrix-like bullet dodges and me likely receiving the key to the city, along with free liquor for life from the endlessly appreciative shop keepers that I hope are still alive.

So back to my original point. I’m sure I had one. Let me scroll back. Please hold. I really need to get some music on here for when I do this. Just please be patient.

Ok I’m back. So yeah. It’s life’s little moments like these that remind me of why I came to the dip. No one has ever called me a bitch, and I really like that. I’ve never found myself in a situation here where I thought, “I’m going to die.” It’s just a feeling I enjoy.

If you don’t already know this, Serendipity Park is the 6-time winner for AANR’s friendliest park award. Whenever I see new people arrive it’s always the first and last thing they talk about. Honestly, it renewed my faith in the goodness of people. I had become cynical for awhile and much of it has to do with stories like the one I just told. The dip is an escape from that.

I should also mention this story happened hundreds of miles away. That’s the other thing. The area surrounding Serendipity is gorgeous, the people are friendly, there are a ton of things to do and the likelihood of you being called a bitch is low. If you hate being called a bitch while on vacation, the dip is where it’s at.








St. Patrick’s Day Party At The Dip!

As I mentioned in my last post, I was up at Serendipity a few weeks ago and though I didn’t have nearly as much time as I would have liked, I was still reminded of how instantly relaxed you become when passing through its gates. (Or gate. It’s just one gate, but it’s electric and everything. It even has a little red button you can press and talk to people. Personally, I think it’s magic.)

This past winter in northern Georgia was just plain nasty. If you lived through it then I don’t need to tell you about its bitterness. It seems like all of my friends know someone who was stuck in their car for hours, even days. DAYS. I get impatient at stop signs. I would have been  like “Nell” when they found me, speaking some kind of language I made up and hissing when someone got close to me.  (She did hiss in that movie, right? I don’t know. I didn’t see it. I just remember she was a jungle girl or something and people liked the movie a lot. It looked sad and I refuse to watch something that I know will make me sad. Why do people do that? What’s wrong with you? Anyway, if you haven’t seen it, Jodie Foster played a girl raised in the wild without other people. Then some people found her and brought her to society, but they should have left her alone because she had an awesome life. If you ever find me wandering around in the woods and speaking Mayonese, please go away.)

So yeah. Cold winter. It’s coming to an end. Good riddance, I say. Good riddance. I’m ready to play naked in the sun, drink girlie drinks and sleep until I feel like not sleeping. I’m ready to relax and hang out with the people I miss. I’m just ready.

The St. Patrick’s Day party is this weekend, and if I remember correctly, wow. It was one of the best parties of last year. (I say “one of” because the awesome parties at this particular nudist park are plentiful, but this one had green hats. I remember wearing a green hat. I don’t remember much else, but if I’m wearing a plastic hat for hours on end, I am having an awesome time. I’m pretty sure that green hat is still sitting where I threw it when I took it off. It’s probably time to do a little cleaning. Cleaning is so boring, right? Do you think Nell cleaned? No. I bet they didn’t tell her about the cleaning part when they dragged her out of the jungle and tossed her into society. She was probably like, “Sooope? What sooope? vakum? Wos dishez? Huh? HISS!!!”)

Love Lost: A Tragic Story

If you haven’t noticed, it’s been a pretty cold winter at the park. And for the first time in a couple of years, I wasn’t there to experience it.

All I can say about that is, “Woo-hoo! In your face, ice and snow! Who’s your daddy? Uh huh. This guy.”

To further prove I made the weather my bitch this year, I came back to Serendipity Park for a couple days and it was 70 degrees. I mean, there were still patches of snow everywhere, and it was SEVENTY DEGREES.

It’s like weather said, “Hey. Mayo’s coming up. We need to clean this place up before he arrives. But leave a little bit of the prettiness here and there. He’ll like that.” And I did.

I figure it’s the least weather can do for busting a pipe in my bathroom, leading to a weary-eyed, coffee-less Mayo flooding his home, then spending much of his relaxation time pretending to be a plumber. And crying.

But alas, I defeated the faulty pipe with parts I purchased for less than a dollar. A dollar. And then I felt the enormous sense of satisfaction of fixing a pipe. And now I know how to fix a pipe. Isn’t that the most interesting thing you’ve ever heard in your life? I know. But wait… there’s more.

Hardware store lady: Can I help you?

Mayo: Oh thank you. God, yes. Check this plastic thing out. I think I need one of these. And a wrench.

Hardware store lady: Oh ok. We have those fittings right over here. What type of wrench do you need?

Mayo: Uh… a monkey wrench? I figure if a monkey can use one, I’ll figure it out.

Hardware store lady: You probably need a pipe wrench. Do you know what size?

Mayo: Ummm… pipe-size?

Hardware store lady: I think I know what you need. Be right back. (Ducks into aisle and returns with a wrench.) Do you think this will work?

Mayo: Probably. I don’t know. I love you. Are you married?

Hardware store lady: Um… nooo.

Mayo: You should marry me. I don’t want to tell you how to live your life, but you should.

Hardware store lady: I don’t even know you.

Mayo: Oh, but you do. It took you four seconds to find exactly what I needed. That’s the kind of help I need on an ongoing basis. I usually have no idea what I’m doing. Do you cook?

Hardware store lady: I’m really not interested.

Mayo: It’s always about you, isn’t it? I’m not sure this will work. How much is this plastic thing?

Hardware store lady: Thirty-one cents.

Mayo: Are you giving me a special price because you love me?

Hardware store lady: No. That’s just how much it is.

Mayo: Nothing is thirty-one cents. I think you’re just being shy, like Adrian in Rocky. I get it. Come on out of there, baby. Open up to me.

Hardware store lady: I think you need to leave now.

Mayo: I’m not going anywhere. You leave this time. You can stay at your mother’s.

Hardware store lady: I’m calling the police.

Mayo: Too late. I already did. I told them a crazy woman was attacking me with a wrench.

Hardware store lady: What? When?

Mayo: Before I came in. I thought it might go down this way. They should be here any minute.

I thought long and hard about whether or not to press charges. In the end, I decided it was best for her. I can’t always come to her rescue. Sometimes you have to face the music.

I visit her from time to time, show her pictures of the kids, tell her they miss and love her… things I think will make her time easier. She pounds on the glass and cries.

I know it’s because she misses us.

2014: Let The Fun Begin

I missed the New Year’s Eve party. Several things came up and it was just impossible to get there.  I’ll bet it was a million times better than watching Ryan Seacrest countdown to 2014, but at least there’s a big shiny ball and I like those. I think everyone loves a shiny ball. Anyone who doesn’t can’t be trusted.

So what’s new at Serendipity Park for this year? Pure fun. Fun on steroids. Horse steroids.

Take a look at the event calendar here: http://serendipitywebsite.wordpress.com/events-calendar/

Poker night is on 1/17 and that’s a great opportunity to have me hand you money while we play a fun game. I’m awful at poker. One member seeks me out each time she visits. I’d use her name, but I don’t have her permission and I’m too lazy to ask. So…

Member: Hey Mayo! Let’s get a poker game going!

Me: How about I just give everyone $20.00 and we sing karaoke?

And I’m not joking. I think it’s my poker face, which seems to be more of a mirror that reflects my hand so that all at the table can clearly see it. I think I have a tell, and I think it might be my entire face. I also say, “Did I win?” a lot and that’s another good sign I should be somewhere else.

I know the weather isn’t necessarily ideal, but there are some nice days forecasted throughout the winter. And if you’re like me and have been spending much of your time inside four walls then I’ll give you some advice that everyone gives me: “You need to get out of your house. You’re starting to scare me.”