Denominator, Go Decatur, Go Decatur

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“And in my best behavior
I am really just like him
Look beneath the floorboards
For the secrets I have hid”

–Sufjan Stevens, “John Wayne Gacy, Jr.”

I have a SECRET to tell you. My eleventh high school reunion is coming up, because those jackasses couldn’t get it together to put on a tenth. I thought about going, but then I realized three things: 1) I really just want to visit Illinois, not the people there; 2) I am on the MIA list, and I think I want to stay that way; 3) I hated everyone in high school. How could I forget the most important ingredient? As Seattle Federline or someone just like him would say, “Baby, that’d be like leaving out the baking soda when you’re cookin up booya.” I’m just saying. Hated.

I don’t want them all to see that I have become a successful podiatrist with a Beemer. Plus I used to be a man. Did I mention that? Sometimes I miss my ten-inch whack-a-mole but I don’t want the people I endured every other day and never after lunch for four years to know that I miss my Tiger. And the Tiger’s friends, Siegfried and Roy.

Breasts. Honestly, what a consolation prize.

Anyway, this has been leading me to think about Illinois. I have the urge to see a real fall again, not just some soggy jank-ass mess that you get here. It feels like a real season there. And then when I am done, I can flee away to my own personal leper colony, the PNW. As much as I hate this place, I don’t think I can leave it.

So I have been listening to the Illinois album by Sufjan Stevens, which means I’ve been playing the John Wayne Gacy song, which is possibly the most beautiful song ever written about a serial killer. Franny was closely inspecting the lyrics since I have been listening to it on repeat.

“What is this ABOUT, Mom?” she said, in between bites of macaroni and cheese.

“Well, honey, it’s about a guy named John Gacy who used to kill people. He couldn’t stop himself. It’s a real story.”

“Whoa,” she said.

“Yes,” I continued. “There are people who kill people and they can’t stop. But the government caught him and they killed him.”

“How many?”

“Thirty-three,” I said.

“Well, that’s just RUDE,” Franny concluded.

22 thoughts on “Denominator, Go Decatur, Go Decatur”

  1. Where in Illinois? My ten year is coming up next year, and while I have the ol’ PhD skool to brag about, I still don’t want to go.

  2. a) I love Franny.

    b) I wouldn’t go to a reunion for money. Well, maybe a lot of money. But I did get an e-mail once from somebody that I barely remember, saying that I had changed her life (!?) in high school because I didn’t care what anybody thought, and she’d never considered that as an option. That kind of encounter never comes in the moment. And I bet you’d get a lot of that, ten years down the line. It might be worth it for that. Also if they serve good food, or have an open bar, although that’s rare.

  3. i grew up in illinois .. and now i live in california .. i know what you mean about wanting to see fall ..

    and everytime i go back i swear i will never do it again.

    and franny is right .. rude, indeed.

  4. I went to my 10-year, and it was really freaky – we are the Class That Time Forgot. I was standing there talking to a 28-yr-old mother of two who still fit into her high-school jeans and thinking “where’s the tardis?”

  6. Hee hee, tardis.

    Yes, thank you Earla. I think we are planning the trip this weekend. Most of the time will be in Chicago with a side trip to my wee village.

  7. Arg! You’ll be in Chicago this weekend?? Curse the six hours of drive time between here and there! Curse it!!!

    And somewhere in the world, another exclamation point dies a sad little death.

  8. My husband is making me go to his reunion this month in rural Wisconsin where it is bloody hot and I cannot even bring my hair gel in my carry-on luggage now.

  9. I can’t imagine attending a high school renuion, even in my wildest moments of pretending at normalcy.

    They are podiatrists with beemers-sleek suburbanites with gold jewelry and automatic sprinklers– and I feel sorry for them for living in stagnant bourgeoisity. Then I remember that not only did I hate everyone, but I also felt superior to them. Just like now!

    Thirty-three people. That’s a lot of people. Franny totally called it.

  11. MB: No, we are planning it this weekend. Like, buying tickets and stuff. We are still deciding when we want to go, but it will probably be October. It’s not fall there yet until school starts, IIRC.

  12. Hey I’ve got a bunch of cool sufjan recordings… some Illinois remixes and some totally non-album stuff. I’ll see if I can get it together for you by blackberry picking time.

  13. I went to my 10th, just to get some time to myself, and it was just like Joan Cusak says in Grosse Point Blank “They had all swelled”. That, and all the guys that had called me a lesbian for hugging my best friend all tried to fuck me. UGH! You won’t be missing anything by not going.

  16. Y’all need to get a life! I did a Google search for some Sufjan Stevens and this is one of the things that came up. I am sorry I read through it and wasted my time. It seems somewhat hypocritical for me to tell y’all this since I am here reading and writing, but for God sakes, y’all apparently need to be told so that you stop blogging and wasting your time. Find a hobby or spend some time with your children or something! This is not the way for one to spend his time. I don’t want to go to my high school reunions either, but I’m not picking some obscure website with total anonymity to spout off about how great I am but how little I want to show my high school classmates. My guess is that the reason you are choosing this sort of medium for your high-filutant, sarcastic banter about bygone days is that your lives really did not turn out the way you would have liked, and this is your way of fooling yourselves into still feeling superior. But hey, it’s not a lie if YOU believe it, right? I know the type of person that “hated” everybody in his class. That type of person did not have many friends in high school with whom to share his life and time. He was not able to enjoy life because he was too busy ragging on everybody else and dwelling on how much he hated things instead of finding something he did like and pursue it. I feel sorry for that. I wish people did not have to spend their lives in that sort of angst and turmoil, but it happens. Devote yourselves to something intrinsically valuable and for the betterment of the world and I have little doubt that you will any longer feel compelled to spend your time daydreaming about how lame life was before and how above it all you were and have always been. This sort of dialogue that I read through here ironically hearkens back to high school. You all have the “I’m 16 and mad at my father” syndrome. Quit hating and just live. Alright, enough depricating comments. Please y’all, don’t spend your lives doing this. You don’t want to be lying on your death beds wishing you had this time back to spend in a better way. I am sure you all hate me right now but eventually this will hit home and you’ll be alright. -Late

  17. LOLLERSKATES!

    I always wanted to use the phrase “high-filutant” in a sentence. hyuck, hyuck, yeehaw!

  21. Okay, this is my favorite part: “I don’t want to go to my high school reunions either, but I’m not picking some obscure website with total anonymity to spout off about how great I am…”

    No, you dope, you’re COMMENTING WITH TOTAL ANONYMITY on some obscure [sic] website about how much better you are than the writer.

    I’m not sure why this cracks me up, but it does.

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