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Jul. 20th, 2012 11:16 am
BS to the A
LJ is screwy again, so instead of the post I was going to write, you get a brief rant on the BSA instead. They've made the news again by reaffirming their anti-gay policies. Not a surprise--at this point they're too beholden to Mormons and Catholics to do otherwise. And as surely as those groups will, they'll find themselves on the wrong side of history. If progressive parents still feel a need for their children to participate in Scouting à la Baden-Powell, there are alternative organisations they can support such as the Order of World Scouts and the Baden-Powell Service Association, not to mention plenty of other youth activity groups built upon a different gospel.
Scouting was important to my father, despite the fact that he was denied his Eagle for petty political reasons. Important enough that he asked me to give them a try for a year. I like to say I was in for a year to the day, which is probably not literally true, but sums up my experience. It was as if there was a worry I wouldn't be exposed to enough bullying, abuse, and general adolescent male loutishness just in my local Catholic school, so we had to find some way to compensate. Yeah, I did get a couple of reasonably enjoyable camping trips out of it. I also got my ankle smashed, toothpaste smeared on my face and in my flashlight, and naked buttocks on my face.
In light of all the ribbing about what happens when you rub two Boy Scouts together, let me be clear that they were two buttocks I would never have willing had on my face. Or really, anywhere near me. I had zero interest in the pasty pimply bodies of the other boys in my troop, which is just as well given that it was the most homophobic environment I've ever been in short of my all-male private high school. Well, maybe there were one or two husky guys I had a bit of a crush on, but this was likely more because they were the only ones who treated me at all decently. Really, I only had eyes for our Scoutmaster, a moustachioed hottie. But at the time I couldn't conceive of actually doing anything with him, and--for his sake--I pray that was mutual.
Scouting was important to my father, despite the fact that he was denied his Eagle for petty political reasons. Important enough that he asked me to give them a try for a year. I like to say I was in for a year to the day, which is probably not literally true, but sums up my experience. It was as if there was a worry I wouldn't be exposed to enough bullying, abuse, and general adolescent male loutishness just in my local Catholic school, so we had to find some way to compensate. Yeah, I did get a couple of reasonably enjoyable camping trips out of it. I also got my ankle smashed, toothpaste smeared on my face and in my flashlight, and naked buttocks on my face.
In light of all the ribbing about what happens when you rub two Boy Scouts together, let me be clear that they were two buttocks I would never have willing had on my face. Or really, anywhere near me. I had zero interest in the pasty pimply bodies of the other boys in my troop, which is just as well given that it was the most homophobic environment I've ever been in short of my all-male private high school. Well, maybe there were one or two husky guys I had a bit of a crush on, but this was likely more because they were the only ones who treated me at all decently. Really, I only had eyes for our Scoutmaster, a moustachioed hottie. But at the time I couldn't conceive of actually doing anything with him, and--for his sake--I pray that was mutual.
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