War Between the States (of Mind)

By Angus McMahan

Some days I just don't get reality. At times I seem to be straddling the fence between psychosis and indifference. Twas Memorial day, both energy and complacency had deserted me, and the housemates were couch-ridden, weilding the remote like Chuck Conners in the Rifleman. I hate TV as much as the next addict, but I prefer to watch channels for more than 5 seconds at a time. So my housemates threw me off the couch, and pretty much out of the house.

I found myself sitting on the fence in front of the house, having a stare-off with a snail. He won. Or maybe he wasn't paying attention - I know I wasn't. Ultimately though, restlessness is really annoying. Perhaps the Geographic Cure would work, so I walked to a bus stop. I hopped on the first bus that stopped, got off somewhere, got on another, and slowly, happily, got thoroughly lost.

I ended up in the hills outside of town at a Civil War re-enactment show. Play-violence seemed to fit the mood. Plus, the only fee to get in was for parking, so I walked on in.

First I investigated the Union tent city, but they were so straight-laced and efficent, so loyal, that they brought back some long repressed memories of my nightmarish campouts with the Boy Scouts. I fled in terror.

Some empty bleachers looked inviting, or at least neutral, so I found a seat on the 50yd. line and waited for the carnage to get underway.

It's an odd sort of war that has grandstands, not to mention a sound system and narration. In my mood of doom I thought that if there were bleachers at a real war and we were all made to watch then perhaps there wouldn't be such light-hearted nostalgia for it.

Before the battle there were various war warm-ups. Drilling was big out on the playing field. All the Dads were decked out in their clean, polished, well-appointed, and hence fake looking uniforms. This skirmish brought to you by L.L. Bean. They seemed to be trying to recreate the Harlem Globetrotters 'magic circle'. Also there was a comedian who told period jokes and stories. Imagine his agent: "Yeah, I got you a gig opening for the Civil War!" All of these diversions were ultimately not very diverting.

What did keep my interest was the action off to the side of the bleachers: The platoon of civilian Dads with their camcorders. I have yet to see any family outing made more fun by removing one of the principals and turning him into the audio-visual monitor. All the fathers turned instantly into D.W. Griffith and start circling their families like electrons, berating them for not acting naturally. At times the Cecil B. DeDaddies circled into one another and collided like a live action atomic reaction. Breakdown of the family indeed. Later Dad will see the outing for the first time on playback, when he forcibly screens his epic for his family so they can see their own pinched faces glaring at the camera. This is togetherness? It is between Dad and his toy, but I have yet to see an entertaining family documentary - or a family that didn't seem to want Dad to just buzz off.

By the time the battle started the bleachers were packed, mostly with sunburned, twitchy cub scouts (which wasn't surprising) and Japanese tourists (which was). The Japanese families laughed through the whole thing. I guess seeing a culture that happily reenacts its lowest moments was amusing to them.

The battle was 1,000 middle-aged, calorically challenged men walking towards each other, shooting blanks. It was loud, stinky, smoky, and bloodless. By comparison the jousting at the Renaissance Faire kicked butt all over it. Still, if you own any John Wayne movies you'll probably dig it. And if you feel that cheering our little home-grown insurrection, where 600,000 Americans died, is disrespectful, then there is enough testosterone here to outrage your average pacifist.

Also a Civil War reenactment is a dangerous place for feminists, vegetarians, and if you are a parent who is concerned about war toys stay far, far away. On the plus side the music was kinda neat and the Confederate camp looked like it threw a good after-hours party.

On the bus back I thought about Memorial day - which honors those who died in war, and it's predecessor: Armistice day - which honored the end of war.

The housemates welcomed me back with open ice cream and profuse apologies for throwing me out of my own home. I solemnly informed them that "A house divided against itself cannot stand." Then I played my cool new cassette of Civil War tunes and they banished me to my room. Reconstruction could take awhile.

&n