97: Spring Break

I did get some research done for my thesis Sunday morning. The only reason I could concentrate on it was because it was about the show. It was a relief to be able to look at numbers regarding the show instead of looking at content. CEN wasn't making a fortune off the show. It turns out that the ratings for the first week were weak. We'd find out our second week ratings on Tuesday. I wondered how much we paid for the vital statistical information we got from this company. Donna was in charge of that.

We'd talked a bit about my thesis and she agreed to supply the data she used to profile the audience. She was working on her PhD and was using the methodology development for her dissertation. It was interesting that we were working on two aspects of the same problem.

Most of Sunday afternoon, though, was spent cuddling with my cónyuge. I wasn't at all surprised when Liz settled her freckled butt in my lap and began kissing me.

"It's positive," she whispered. "Oh, Brian, I'm so happy!"

"Are you ready to tell everyone?"

"I think so." Before we could call people's attention together, though, Casa del Agua came in and Doreen plopped C-Rae into our lap.

"Look! Notice anything different?" Rachel called when she'd stripped. She stood in the middle of the room, raised her arms, and slowly pivoted. We were all chuckling about not seeing any tattoos. Liz practically jumped out of my lap.

"Wait!" Liz screeched. "Don't say anything!" She rushed to Rachel and hugged her friend. It was unusual to see Liz with her naked body pressed up against another woman's, but they held tight as they whispered to each other. "Yes!" they both squealed. Then they finally turned to face the baffled stares of their hearthmates, still holding hands.

"We're pregnant!" they both exclaimed.

"Which one of you is the father?" Nicki snickered.

Doug and I went over to our cónyuge and hugged them.

"I definitely nailed this one," I said holding Liz.

"I was all in on this one," Doug said, kissing Rachel. C-Rae took that opportunity to reach out from my arm to Liz. Liz held the baby and tears ran down her cheeks.

Penn State was different than IU. Sororities didn't have separate houses, but rather had floors of certain dormitories. As a result, the ability to have us in a sorority house was gone. What the Nittany Lions did have, however, was their student union, called the HUB. The combined sororities had rented a large lounge area for three days in the HUB that would give us ample room and a homey atmosphere for the production. We had a small platform that I would perform on, but unlike the hotel ballroom, it was only a couple steps and gave us just enough height to be visible. It also had lots of comfy seating and it was convenient to food, coffee, soft drinks, and other refreshments. We were on campus but in a single location for the three days we'd be taping.

This was our first shot at taping five shows in three days. I talked to John and he rented a small plane that was larger than his Cub but could still land at the University Park Airport, just a mile and a half from campus. We booked rooms in the Nittany Lion Inn on the southwest edge of campus. John flew with Liz, Rose, and me as passengers on Monday morning. He had me sit in the right seat and wrote it up in my log book.

It was a little frantic getting things switched from one show to the next on Tuesday and Wednesday, but mostly it was pretty smooth. Maybe it was getting into the swing of things that helped, or just the more laid back attitude at Penn State, but I thought the shows went much better. Rose got some good primary experience with audiences and touring as she and Liz were my assistants.

After the evening shows, I made sure to show Liz a lot of loving. I kissed and loved all over her tummy—and everywhere else. I didn't neglect Rose, either, but she knew as soon as Liz announced she was officially pregnant that Liz would be my focus for the trip. And Liz had such a mischievous look on her face that all I could do was love her and go along for the ride.

I loved getting home at noon on Thursday and having a long weekend with my family. Even April and her crew were home by Thursday night and wouldn't have to leave for Columbus until Sunday night.

It looked like the Delta National Conference was a go. I was mostly worried that everyone would show up drunk in bikinis or wet t-shirts. Or not at all. How can an organization have a national conference in the middle of spring break in Florida? It was just too much to fathom. The good part was that Elaine was going to shoot Chick Chat from the same location that week. It was spring break at IU, so my entire casa had decided to go to the beach that week. We even managed to get Josh to take a week off so he could come with us. The only one who couldn't go was Angela. Damn it! Med school just doesn't break. And, of course, Whitney. She didn't get spring break from The Basic School, but she did say that her weekends were more flexible now and I should visit. We started planning a weekend rendezvous in our near future.

Before all that, though, we had shows to produce. I talked to Chuck and Frankie. I talked to Nicki. Nicki talked to Chuck and Frankie. Chuck and Frankie and Nicki talked to me. We all agreed on one thing. I wasn't very funny. The best monologue I'd done to date was the one where we improvised the conversation with Lynn at Gamma House. That had been the first show of the season. We looked at all the others and put pluses and minuses next to them for what kind of laughs we were getting. Most of them had minuses. We watched tapes for a solid day and analyzed the scripts and my delivery. We came up with a couple things that stood out.

First, I did better in an intimate setting where I was directly relating to people in the audience. When I was on a stage, I lost touch with what was real. I might as well not have had an audience. We agreed that the low platform I'd had at Penn State was okay. I'd actually stepped down off it a few times during my monologues and wrap-up, and talked to the audience members. That seemed to have a lot of positive energy that was missing at the University of Illinois, even though it created headaches for April.

Second, the more audience interaction I had, the better the material came across. The improv with Lynn was a great example. We definitely needed more stuff that got me face to face with members of the audience and made them participants.

Third, I really wasn't very funny. Even jokes that had an obvious punchline and were ha-ha funny fell flat. I was an inspirational speaker, not a comedian. I guessed Elaine's job was safe.

We started reworking material and Sam and April started working on the audience configurations so that I'd have more contact. There was a constant battle between getting intimate with the audience and having the audience able to see everything. There was no question that I performed better in close quarters. It really put the burden on April to make it work.

We gradually improved. Ohio State wasn't too bad. We had the dais problem at University of Iowa because we were in a hotel again, but I tried to get off the dais more and walk in the audience. That was a good one because we had another high school audience. Purdue was a little raucous, but we were hosted in sorority houses and, in general, we had good audience interaction, especially when I started doing more skits in the opening that used an audience member to play off of. That was a little stressful. I had material prepared, but I just had to wing it when my improv partner went way off in left field. It was exhausting.

And then it was time to pack up the family and go to Florida.

Holy shit!

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 drinking than in you, then he's probably never actually seen a nipple up close and personal.

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 nipple 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. That party I was talking about 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.