Letters

Letters 02-08-2016

Less Ageism, Please The January 4 issue of this publication proved to me that there are some sensible voices of reason in our community regarding all things “inter-generational.” I offer a word of thanks to Elizabeth Myers. I too have worked hard for what I’ve earned throughout my years in the various positions I’ve held. While I too cannot speak for each millennial, brash generalizations about a lack of work ethic don’t sit well with me...Joe Connolly, Traverse City

Now That’s an Escalation I just read the letter from Greg and his defense of the AR15. The letter started with great information but then out of nowhere his opinion went off the rails. “The government wants total gun control and then confiscation; then the elimination of all Constitutional rights.” Wait... what?! To quote the great Ron Burgundy, “Well, that escalated quickly!”

Healthy Eating and Exercise for Children Healthy foods and exercise are important for children of all ages. It is important for children because it empowers them to do their best at school and be able to do their homework and study...

Mascots and Harsh Native American Truths The letter from the Choctaw lady deserves an answer. I have had a gutful of the whining about the fate of the American Indian. The American Indians were the losers in an imperial expansion; as such, they have, overall, fared much better than a lot of such losers throughout history. Everything the lady complains about in the way of what was done by the nasty, evil Whites was being done by Indians to other Indians long before Europeans arrived...

Snyder Must Go I believe it’s time. It’s time for Governor Snyder to go. The FBI, U.S. Postal Inspection Service and the EPA Criminal Investigation Division are now investigating the Flint water crisis that poisoned thousands of people. Governor Snyder signed the legislation that established the Emergency Manager law. Since its inception it has proven to be a dismal failure...

Erosion of Public Trust Let’s look at how we’ve been experiencing global warming. Between 1979 and 2013, increases in temperature and wind speeds along with more rain-free days have combined to stretch fire seasons worldwide by 20 percent. In the U.S., the fire seasons are 78 days longer than in the 1970s...

Home · Articles · News · Books · At least in the city someone would...
. . . .

At least in the city someone would hear me scream By Wade Rouse

Elizabeth Kane Buzzelli - June 22nd, 2009
A Gay Green Acres
Set in Saugatuck
At Least in the City Someone Would Hear
Me Scream
By Wade Rouse
Harmony Books

By Elizabeth Kane Buzzelli 6/22/09

You take comedian Stephen Colbert, throw in a generous dash of the guys from Queer Eye, and what you get is Wade Rouse’s hilarious new memoir, At Least in the City Someone Would Hear Me Scream - Misadventures in Search of the Simple Life.
Wade, and his partner, Gary, leave St. Louis to come live their dream life in the Michigan woods outside of Saugatuck, where they innocently run smack up against themselves, the culture of the north woods, and the problem of getting what they asked for and maybe not wanting it at all.
When real life gets wrapped up with a philosophy that comes straight down from Ricky and Lucy Ricardo, gets mired in the muck of Walden, then straightened out by a guy on an overpass holding a sign that asks: “WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF YOU COULD NOT FAIL?” you’ve got the trajectory of this howl of a book, with just a little bittersweetness at its heart.
Nothing can be funnier than Wade’s introduction to his new home, when he begins the story of his transition from city to country with a raccoon on his head. Not a coonskin cap; not a toy raccoon, but a “very much alive, very much pissed off, and very much sporting a bad stink, and a lot of painfully sharp claws” raccoon.
Who would have thought of an animal in your garbage can? Evidently not this ‘modern-day Henry David Thoreau,’ who also never considered being alone to write all day with nothing to say; never imagined being so far from a Starbucks, or a Whole Foods; never thought he wouldn’t be able to run into an Anthropologie when he was in desperate need of a retro Froot Loop T-shirt, or that he wouldn’t have a place to go for a good microdermabrasion or to have his lashes tinted. He wasn’t going to the dark side of the moon, after all, was he? Only to the back woods of western Michigan.

NEIGHBORLINESS
Wade Rouse is the quintessential fish out of water; like none you’ve ever met before. This is a guy who, by his own admission, buys Mary Kay and swipes lotion “and bronzer onto his bare legs in the supermarket while he thumps kiwi.” Now put him in the back woods where a neighbor watches him through night-vision goggles; another has a yard crammed with cat imagery, even to a cat waving an American flag, with the slogan “PROUD AMERICAT” on it; and the neighbor next door, in the rusting single-wide, comes on to him as his first gesture of neighborliness.
So, here he is in Michigan, back in the woods, trying to write and finding he has nothing to write about. And from this angst comes a memoir based on ten lessons Wade and Gary hope to learn in order to make it in their new home. Loosely based on Thoreau’s Walden, the lessons are meant to take them from their old, corporate life of friends and good restaurants, expensive clothes and parties, to a life based on the mind; a life pared to simplicity; a life where these two men can appreciate each other and what they have.
“Lesson Five: PARTICIPATE IN COUNTRY CUSTOMS” takes Wade out ice fishing. In his “cashmere turtleneck, a $300 scarf that I bought in Chicago, and a brand-new peacoat that makes me look like I should be having hot tea with Gwyneth and Apple in a London cafe,” and in his “slick-footed Kenneth Cole Reaction boots with zero traction,” Wade’s off to meet new friends out on the ice, in their fishing shanty.
Of course, he slips and slides over the ice to be picked up, unceremoniously, by one of the fishermen waiting for him. Before long, Wade, sitting on his little stool with a line down into the water, gets bored and cold and begins to whine. The whining brings shunning. But Wade perseveres—as he does through all 10 of his lessons.
Another foray into local custom is a trip to a country-western bar for karaoke. Here, two of the native women (“Whachoo cute young cowpokes doin’ here without any ladies?” one slurs and the other adds “Well, you fellas could use some cheerin’ up. And we’re just the gals to do it”) give Wade and Gary a warm, but useless, welcome. The women discover the two men they’ve set their sites on are gay, but the evening is saved by Wade singing a Kelly Clarkson song, warming up the mostly drunken crowd.

VEGGIE DREAM
Planning to sustain themselves like Thoreau, who cultivated seven miles of beans, Wade and Gary plant an extensive, and expensive, vegetable garden. The chapter “Gary and Wade Grow a Single Bean” tells the story of that abortive effort.
In between the disappointments, the fun, and the snide cynicism (which Wade vows to give up—in one of his rules—but never quite overcomes), there is also buried anger and hurt. Though Wade hides nothing and fights like a tiger to be exactly who he is, there are stark hints of his difficult passage as a fat, gay boy growing up in the Ozarks to the urban gay man who has now come back to his roots. Maybe it is that past he’s set out to conquer; maybe it is himself—the man who no longer needs to hide in a city. What he and Gary have done is come to the woods, much as Thoreau did, to live as one with nature, to learn about themselves and each other, and be at peace with the world around them.
Introspective, even with a raccoon sitting on his head, Wade can see the part he’s played in his own destiny. He writes: “The coon’s tail swings over my shoulder, and, for a second, I resemble Madonna on her Blonde Ambition tour. And then I realize this is my payback. Just a couple of weeks ago in the city I was making fun of a woman with hideous hair extensions in Walgreen’s. I mean, I had to: The color and texture didn’t even match her real hair...”
Look out Michigan. Wade Rouse is here, and it looks as if he means to stay.

Buzzelli’s Dead Floating Lovers, second in the Emily Kincaid Northern Michigan mystery series from Midnight Ink, is in books stores now.


 
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