Provincetown Massachusetts – Just Ambling Down Commercial Street, I Swear!

For the sake of making Catching Marbles more accessible this is the first blog entry which I am trying to post a reading of the entry to listen to. So, if you are so inclined enjoy, otherwise feel free to read it yourself and look at all the pretty pictures! Much love! ~Theo

Provincetown has been on my bucket list for a number of years, but I didn’t really know what to expect. All I knew was that it was a long drive and whomever I brought with me had to be really cool with a whole lot of shit. No prudes, no relatives, just merciless sarcasm and innuendo, like an episode of Hazbin Hotel! (which if you haven’t seen it yet it’s on Amazon Prime. Go watch it. Right now.)

ANYWAY, why would I want to visit New England’s queerest corner? Why wouldn’t I?! I figured it must be a neurodivergent heaven! I mean 1 out of every 6 normal people define themselves as gay but if you only poll autistic people…. literally over 70% of us identify as various flavors of the rainbow. Basically, it’s a giant blinking bug zapper to people like me.

Be this as it may I did not know anyone in my circle wanted to go and was more than happy to take some hostages on this venture. So, with BF and BFF in tow we made our way to Commercial Street, which I am going to say now IS NOT MADE FOR CARS. Do not drive down it! You will be MOBBED with pedestrians and only able to go at max 2 miles an hour until you find a parking lot. The parking lot I found was $15 and came with an attitude. Was I just learning how to drive? No sir, your instructions just suck and it’s making me nervous you’re standing directly in front of my car while I park. I suspect the $20 parking just down the road came with less guff. And a hanging sculpture of a Great White at the entrance….

Now that that was settled we all got out of the car and started our ambling. This was going to be another adventure in ADHD. We were immediately distracted by gargoyles. Fucking GARGOYLES. So, we walked away from Commercial Street to figure out why on earth there was a tower full of gargoyles overlooking the town. As it turns out this was the Pilgrim Monument. For a cool $20 you could take an elevator to the top. Or you could pay nothing and just read the pretty plaques probably stating that the pilgrims first landed in P-town not Plymouth. They merely wandered off and settled in Plymouth.

From here we decided to go back to Commercial Street which was FULL of summer tourists and pride flags of all persuasions. Some of them even flew out of the eaves of Seamen’s Bank which made us all giggle like twelve-year-olds. To be honest everything here seemed to be written with a wink and a nod. Never have I seen an oyster bar so thirsty. “Real men eat it raw.” (I’m really starting to wonder how I am going to contain the rest of this entry within the PG range for the angry and decidedly prudish AdSense gods.) Especially since the first thing we saw was this alleyway covered in…. I’m going to say erotic art. And baby doll heads in cages. My kinda weird.

It wasn’t all adult oriented. We started off within the normal area of family friendly activities stopping by a candy shop and checking off another bucket list item – trying saltwater taffy. It was soft! And sweet… and… I don’t have much of a sweet tooth but I’m glad I tried it anyway. The orange flavored ones were the best. From here we wandered into a little hippie shop with T-shirts and hippie clothing, funny bumper stickers and the usual touristy shit, and a forbidden staircase to the above 18 crowd. Wait, what? You can’t just dangle a forbidden staircase; curiosity will kill the cat (but satisfaction will bring him back.) So, what was up there? A weird convenience store of dildos and hookahs and bongs and pipes and more adult toys… just an overwhelming blizzard of rainbow colors… and textures… and why does this dildo look like it’s made for a platypus? (If you know, you know…and if you don’t you probably shouldn’t google what’s up with platypus bits.)

ANYWAY. We came across a lot that afternoon. Much of it was perfectly tame like a T-shirt shop for funny T-shirts that “can be printed in 9 seconds! Just pick a design!” As well as galleries, so many galleries with such a range of topics. There was even one that was just hyper detailed photos of your eyes. Or someone else’s eyes, but I’m pretty sure the point was to make it your own. And there was an AIDS monument we accidentally found as well as another monument with a ship on it that I would have read if I weren’t also trying to run and catch up with my crew. Lollygagger.

The whole street seemed to be places to eat, dispensaries, adult stores, galleries, tourist traps, billboards for drag shows (dammit, I want to see Hedwig live now!) and a smattering of bookstores. One such bookstore I’m pretty sure was a fairy trap. My companions, also twelve at heart, said damn straight it is a fairy trap. It was down a long alley that was completely covered in vines. How is that not some sort of fae attempt at luring unsuspecting humans?! We’re all idiots because we walked right into it. And it was sweet! A little quiet used bookstore with some really interesting titles… granted a large selection for the LGBT+ community. I enjoyed it.

Then we ended up walking by yet another sex shop but this one had signs in the windows none of us could ignore. One was the shop’s name, “Toys of Eros: More toys than the devil has sinners!” One point for the Greek mythology reference, another for the blasphemy, can we make it any better? Oh yes, they can also have a sign on the door that says they won’t sell to bigots except with MUCH more colorful language. I want to post a photo I took of it on FaceBook but I’d have to censor 30% of the words. SIGH. And beside all that there were promises of a sex museum! Fine… we’ll follow the free candy sign into the big black van just this once. The sex museum was more of an entryway full of terrifying cake mixer looking vibrators. Did you know that the electric vibrator predates electrical outlets? They had to be plugged into light bulb fixtures! So, I guess you can diddle or have light but you can’t have both. They also had a merkin. Looked like a dead rat. And some other things. Of course, by this time we’re in the shop. Clever ploy sex nerds, clever ploy.

First, we saw the case of glass twat ticklers. Slightly terrifying but I’m sure they were phantasma-orgasmic. I was then distracted by a rack of leather puppy masks, which are just… so… perfect…. for wearing when you go back in time just to scare the hell out of people. Hey, no one said it had to be a sexual thing. Sometimes, intrusive thoughts need love too. You could totally be a cryptid. I believe in you. ANYWAY, back to the task at hand – there was a wall of whips and switches and floggers with which to fondle all under a flying mannikin descending from the ceiling on a sex swing. Speaking of uses against manufacturer’s instructions I knew someone once who hoisted her rottweiler into a tree with one of those so she could spray her bath-hating pup down with a garden hose. Try getting that image out of your head.

I think the store clerk was bored because at this point she approached us and started showing us a whole rack of pocket pussies. You may wonder why a gay man and a woman would entertain such a thing but I wasn’t going to walk away without poking at it and HOLY SHIT this feels more real than my own flesh and blood bits! Whaaaaat is going on here?! This is where morbid curiosity gets you. Pondering what decisions in life brought you to this exact moment. They also had some that were less hyper realistic and more demure – and by that I mean hidden in what looked like a coffee thermos. I’m just saying, if I opened up my thermos one day and the death of Adam stared back at me from with it… Well, it’d just make the whole rest of the day weird, you know. Awkward weird. Naked Lunch weird.

It’s OK though because past the trans-friendly corner there was a delightful selection of vibrating muff marauders. Again, the clerk made sure to turn on every one and hand them to me and my companions. So many speeds, and vibration patterns, textures, and sizes. Cute little ones and ones that looked like they were made by Black and Decker complete with attachments. Purple ones, pink ones, black ones, shiny ones. Ones that thrust as well as vibrated! Hell, there was even one that sucked. Quite literally. It was a suction device for lady beans. That one was called the Womanizer. Of course, hearing that I tried to goad the clerk into telling me what was the most offensively named product in the store but she shied away from my cheerful trolling. Shame. I would have enjoyed that list.

As we left the clerk let it slip she was from NH and I had to ask where exactly. This resulted in her asking where I was and when I told her she had the same not great opinion of my town. Said the only good thing about it was the Walmart and the people were miserable. Guys, I’ve been saying this for years, and everyone always says all small towns suck but low! I’ve never felt so validated in my life to meet a complete stranger who sees the unique shittiness of my hometown. BIG SIGH!

It’d been a long but fun day. We’d found food and places to poke at and were really just heading back to the car when we saw a young woman across the street sitting at a typewriter with a sign reading something like, “I’ll write a poem for you.” This intrigued all of us to varying degrees and we went to see what that was all about. In short order we found ourselves talking to her and telling her about our day to which she took a notecard out, placed it in her typewriter, and in the matter of a minute managed to concisely summarize our day with some pretty words. It warmed my Beatnik heart and provided a beautiful souvenir. We decided to give her $20 for her efforts. And you can follow her on Instagram! @sticky6wordbandit

It was getting late and we were heading back to the car but that’s always perfect for yet more distractions. This time we’d be playing with a bunch of dead bugs. There was a whole shop for them! Just… butterflies in frames… and weird creepy crawly keychains… Made my inner bug loving twelve-year-old very happy. And finally we wandered into a well-lit and empty gallery because we’d seen one of the paintings from the street that looked decidedly like an all-male orgy melted like candles into each other in some sort of acid induced hallucination. The other art ranged from beautiful and serene to more erotic scenes. Then there was a little sign pointing to a dark streetside staircase reading, “there’s more in the basement!” Another fairy trap. I wasn’t about to but after reading the sign aloud my companion said we should go down and a disembodied voice from the underworld yelled, “YEAH! YOU SHOULD!” You guys, no, this is definitely a fairy trap. We’re gonna be disappeared. But alas the basement was just a TINY room barely big enough for the three of us and the disembodied voice was the artist who swooped by and up the stairs with all the deftness of… well, I guess a fairy.

I really liked some of the really close up paintings of blueberries and fruit. Sadly, I didn’t have 2 or 3K on me. But none the less I wished him good luck as I popped out of his gallery and into the night. We all agreed that as fun as today was we’d still like to come back and see more. And so that’s how our day ended… with sweet beautiful whimsy and more than a little innuendo. Totally worth it.

September 17, 2024 0

The Umbrella Factory – Charlestown RI

This week’s adventure brought us to Umbrella Factory which FaceBook has been suggesting for a few weeks before it was again suggested by my hiking buddy that explored the Freetown State Forest with me. I admit I didn’t know what it was… but just the fact it came so highly recommended was all I needed.

My travel companion was even more confused. He thought we were going to an actual factory that makes umbrellas. Not quite. It was another one of those quirky little places nestled in what seems to be a residential neighborhood. There were No Parking signs half a mile up the road so this place must get craaaaazy busy.

To be honest I didn’t know what to expect either as I was just given the vaguest idea of what I was going to. And when I drove in and saw a sign reading “general store” I was like oh boy, here we go again. The general store was more of a gift store. It was small, in what looked to be a repurposed house, but boy did it have the best selection of random funny things I have seen in a long while, if ever. Far from the usual Live, Laugh, Love signs this place had everything from jokey bumper stickers, to ironically named soap, to classic rock inspired Tarot cards, and the perfect assortment of gag gifts for anyone with an off sense of humor. There was even a series of angry candles with scents that included Fuck Around & Find Out and Fuck Your Abortion Law. When the candles start getting pissed maybe it’s a sign old white men should stop legislating uteruses. Just a thought.

Upstairs seemed like a totally different adventure. Here there was a whole floor dedicated to simple musical instruments like thumb pianos and thunder tubes. Beyond them was a room full of various African art. LOVED the rooster by the way. And my companion? Well, he blew through the duck caller and when it quacked he jumped so that was funny all around. And I got to play with a wooden xylophone which always makes me stupidly happy (even though I have exactly no musical talent.)

After this we went outside and out back there was a little courtyard type thing with a flower garden, a booth for a silhouette artist, a little cafe, and some free-range chickens. Oh, and a paddock of emus. Which were thumping away. I love the weird drumming noise the females make. It’s something else. Really rubs in how much of a dinosaur those birds are.

“Where are their arms?”

“…They’re birds they don’t have arms… you mean wings? They have vestigial wings. They’re only like half a foot long though.”

I forgot how much I enjoyed free range chickens. Their behavior is so different from penned ones. So much more relaxed and happy.

Out here there was also a bamboo forest. Now I have fought bamboo my entire life. Once that shit starts growing it’s nearly goddamn impossible to kill it and it spreads and uuuuugggggghhhhh. However, I’d never let my patches of bamboo grow into a forest, nor even seen a bamboo forest before. It was… really weird. Almost like climbing through grass if I were an ant. There was a little maze out here in the bamboo with a rudimentary shelter of sorts made of stacks of the stuff. I must say it was a unique experience.

Also within this veritable little village of weird house shops there were a few hippie boutiques as well as a shop for indigenous art that seemed to be run by the local tribe. That was cool. I always like to see that.

Throughout all this we found a lot of weird things but no umbrellas for sale (‘least we missed them.) It was an adventure best summarized by my companion’s comment, “I wasn’t expecting emus today.” No, because no one expects emus.

August 25, 2022 0

Buddha Bob’s – Eastham MA

Our trip to Cape Cod was one of those last-minute things where we really didn’t know what we wanted to do… so we decided to fill up our National Park Passport with stamps. That being said we ended up stopped in traffic in front of Buddha Bob’s only a little down the road from Salt Pond which was our real destination. And this place looked so bizarre that we decided right then and there it needed more investigation.

It was… a trip. WELL worth the detour! I parked in front of a Bigfoot wearing gold chains and that’s where we started. Have you ever been to a little shop that has no idea what it is? This would have been that. It was part rock shop, part lot for eccentric yard and garden ornamentation, part commissioned junk shop. As such we found everything from a pair of bronzed baby booties, to Buddhas of every conceivable size, to LOTS of pretty rocks inside, to a pair of Turkish looking marionettes (perhaps haunted!) to a rather fetching (if totally rusted) statue of Achilles. Fuck knows my Achilles heel is… Achilles himself. That’s how I ended up writing a whimsical satire about his teenage years but I digress.

Buddha Bob’s was an adventure for sure. No one quite knew what would be around each corner and to my great delight the people running the shop were just as unrepentantly weird as the shop itself. This was my kind of place. And my travel companion lucked out by buying two hematite rings for $1.88. I know in previous entries I have been a little dubious about the whole hematite ring thing but I guess it’s not so bad if each replacement is less than a dollar… This was my happiest tourist trap yet. FEEL THE WHIMSY!

June 24, 2022 0

Graceland, Nashville, & Memphis

I went to Memphis because I’d heard of it and it was in a state I hadn’t yet explored. I had no idea what was there but someone suggested I go see Graceland. OK. So I parked at a little strip mall right next to Graceland and spared myself $10 parking. Oddly enough I was the only one smart enough to figure this one out. I perused the stores… ELVIS ELVIS ELVIS! And nothing but. So much tacky and garish things… I wandered over to Graceland a few yards away. This place was by far the honkiest place I’ve ever been and likely will ever be, at least I damn well hope so. People swarmed the place and paid $34 a person to see Elvis’ mansion and airplane. Seventy year old women with Elvis tatooes teetered in and out of the gift shops clutching bags filled with glitter and shot glasses. I stared at the postcards… Young Elvis, old Elvis, civilian Elvis, military Elvis, thin Elvis, puffy Elvis, Elvis in normal clothes, Elvis giving a young Elton John some fashion hinters, Elvis, Elvis, Elvis!

I can’t say I was ever that fond of Elvis. Why was I here again? Better yet why is the blasphemous Harley shop down the street listening to Cher? I bought a few postcards, if only so I could write indecent things on them…

While I was looking at the postcards I noticed one said “Beale Street, Home of the Blues!” I insisted on going there to even the honkiness out a bit. So I went to Beale Street, which wasn’t terribly far away, and I noticed immediately it beat Graceland hardcore. There was a voodoo/headshop here, BB King’s Blues Club, lots of places to eat, and music notes like the Hollywood stars lining the sidewalk with notable Bluesmen (and a couple of women.) I took a photo of BB King’s note, and was taken inside by a barker who offered to show me Lucille. So I went in.. and looked at one of four replicas of Lucille. He told me Lucille was BB King’s guitar which he auctioned off for charity, but which 4 replicas were made of. It was signed by all sorts of interesting people and the guy told us how Lucille got her name. Apparently BB King had been in a bar fire. He got out of the burning building only to dive back into it to save his guitar. Later he found out the fire started when two men were fighting over a woman. One smashed open a bottle of booze and threw a match to it. The woman’s name was Lucille and if Lucille was good enough to fight over than that was the perfect name for the guitar!

I had a soda and chatted up the bar tender for awhile. Being a hot day with little people in here he seemed happy to talk. He’d done a number of interesting travels in his own day and I compared notes. I gave him a few ideas of where to go next. I left soon after to catch the parking meter. All and all it was a fun street with friendly down to earth people. Much better than Graceland. Less creepy too. A lot less creepy. Especially the voodoo shops. I’ll take those over eighty year women in skin tight leopard spots any day.

After Memphis I went to Nashville… why? Because. I went to find the Grand Ole Opry, again just to say I’ve been there as country music is yet another thing I’m not fond of (for the most part – a little Cash is always good though…) I found out it was currently being swallowed by a shopping mall that was being built and for the most part was gated and fenced off. The rest was blocked by trees. Whatever. I left not too broken hearted.

***I apologize for any missing photos and galleries as I continue to work getting Catching Marbles fully migrated to a new host. Please come back soon for restored photos and thank you for your patience!***

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!

July 14, 2011 0

Joliet – Route 66

I decided I should see the beginning of “the mother road,” historic (and now completely renamed) route 66. People in the Chicago area seemed clueless about this and by the time I hit Joliet it was too late for anything to be open except travel centers, gas stations, and a very bleh Wal-Mart. None of these places seemed to have anything. So I stayed in the area… went to the gift shop/museum in the morning. They had what I wanted, finally. I also stopped by the Route 66 park and the ice cream place with the Blues Brothers dancing on their roof. I guess the Blues Brothers was mostly filmed here or something… it was amusing. Even more amusing was the fact that the woman at the gift store said she often got Dutch people coming in there. This makes no sense to me. Why would America’s most nostalgic highway be of any interest to someone living in another country? What an odd concept! Oh well, to each their own. Route 66 is pretty damn cool. Someday I may drive it straight instead of weaving on and off it, backwards…

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!

July 12, 2011 0

Mall of America – Minnesota

I wasn’t really planning to go to the Mall of America but seeing as I was in the area and it is the biggest mall in the US I decided to go check it out. The place was just as enormous as was expected but what I hadn’t anticipated is the center of the mall, the entire area of which was some sort of amusement park for about three million screeching children. Just like an auditorium the noise amplified and seeped into every corner of the mall. I wanted to get close to the guard rail and peer down to see what was going on down there but I valued keeping my hearing more.

The place was huge. It had no parking lot, just two parking garages which fortunately had a high enough clearance for the encumbered Jeep. I walked into the place from the big Macy’s store on one of it’s corners. The mall itself was four flours of clothing stores and tourist traps. I walked around each level and poked my head into only the stores I took an interest in. Shame I wasn’t still looking for cool clothes, this place had so many options! You could get butt-ugly purses at Guess, dress yourself up as a southern slut at Garage, morph into a highly perfumed cave bat at Abercrombie and Fitch, or actually go for something classy at some of the better stores. They did however have one store that really upset me, I think it was called Spoons Spa for Children. In its lobby in front of the window there was a tenish year old girl, leaning towards the tom-boy side of the spectrum, slouched uncomfortably in a chair, her mother cooing her on. If she could have slid straight to the floor she would have. That was the most miserable looking child I’d seen in a long time, staring at her nails like they were morphing her into some sort of freakish monster. I had two major issues with this place. 1) You shouldn’t be encouraging your daughters to look like tarted up whores before they even hit puberty. 2) You should not be beating into little girl’s minds that they have to be pretty and feminine to be successful. You might as well just tell them it’s nice to have a personality buuuut, the world would like you much better if you just acted like everyone else! Its disgusting and I can’t say I’d ever support it. In any event we were soon walking by anyway.

The LEGO store was packed full of people but the giant Lego statues of a tiger, a minotaur, and a bunch of other things, left me pretty impressed, as did the mix and match Lego stand that resembled a candy stand. Here you could get old fashioned Lego pieces like you saw sold in buckets in the good old days… not gimmicky kits but actual make-it-yourself styled blocks. Tempting. I’ve always been a bit bitter my mother never allowed us to have any as children, claiming she wasn’t going to get us anything of the sort because they were too painful to step on barefooted. She had a point, sort of, but I still think this sort of building toy is great for developing minds… and bored adults alike!

There was a Microsoft store, which was set up exactly like a less sterile-looking Apple store. It was a bit weird, like it was trying but in a half assed sort of way. Some of the stores in the mall had weird dummies, I guess to attract more people. One store had hot pink dummies, another store had intensely realistic dummies in life-like action poses that just coincidentally didn’t have any heads. I ended up in a store called Marbles. It was as if the place was made for this little blog. It was a little store stuffed full with brain teasing games and puzzles, many of which you could play with other people. They were very neat and a salesman was doing demonstrations. Everyone here looked like the kind of people I’d like to be around, and everyone was poking curiously at things, smiling. If I had money I probably would have bought the store out, it was just that neat.

I ended up walking through several Minnesota gift shops, none with anything at all interesting in them. I ended up buying a few postcards. After this I wandered around, eventually walking all four floors. There seemed a strong lack of little novelty shops and of course being a mall it didn’t have any of the shops I appreciate, you know the rock and fossil shops, Goodwill, antique stores, art galleries…

The mall was easily walked and had a killer food court with everything you could have possibly wanted. That was quite possibly the biggest highlight of my visit today – that and the ensuing battle over the Jeep’s parking space when I left.

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!

July 9, 2011 0

Cody Wyoming

I was told by someone that I had to go through Cody after exiting Yellowstone, in fact I think two or three different people mentioned this but none of them let me know what Cody was. It wasn’t until I was at the ice cream parlor in Yellowstone, staring at the old advertisement for Buffalo Bill Cody’s Wild West Show, that I realized Cody was probably one of those tacky Wild West tourist traps. I was right. Statues of old Western heros, white buffalo, and various other animals lined the streets. Everything was made to look like an old saloon. There were hotels and inns everywhere as well as huge clothing stores loaded with the most garish of clothing articles, enormous glittering purses, baby pink cowgirl hats, ten pound shiny belt buckles, rattlesnake boots, and cowboy hats of every kind imaginable. Of course the best part of the town was the dubious and probably offensive depictions of “Indians” which were everywhere. The second best part of the town was the Dug Up Gun Museum. I didn’t go in but I expect these are just firearms people found buried in their back yards. How weird and freaky is that?

I couldn’t resist stopping to pick up a post card for my cousin who happens to be named Cody. I hope he gets a laugh out of it but I really don’t know.

I stopped at a McDonald’s there for quite awhile and I got to watch the local teenagers while pretending to be focused on other things. There were a couple chicks there, maybe 15 or so in age, with make-up covered faces and tight clothing. One of them was trying to pick up a boy, one in a group of four, all dressed up to the hilt looking like they’d just walked off a set for a 1940’s Western, hats, boots, flannel shirts, and belt buckles included. When all four came over to sit down she was still smiling and flirty. Eventually her chick friend grew annoyed, not wanting to have a part in this, and left. The remaining chicka soon found her devious plans were to backfire. Somehow the topic of conversation wound around to some friend of theirs, not present, who had recently been “almost caught fucking a girl real good at the bus station. Cop came rollin’ by and he just had enough time to pull up his pants!” This story went around getting more outrageous, the girl’s smile now turning to an intensely uncomfortable grimace. Fifteen minutes later when the gaggle got up from the table she took tail and headed for the hills. ‘Course now I had lost my entertainment. Damn.

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!

June 26, 2011 0

Branson Missouri

You know how much of a sucker I am for “World’s Largest Whatevers.” Today it was World’s Largest Banjo because why not? When in Rome (or Missouri…)

So I ended up, for some odd reason, driving through Branson Missouri. It was such a weird thing, like driving through the Twilight Zone. I couldn’t tell what was reality anymore. On every nook and cranny of the city there was some sort of fantasy tourist trap… Go golfing with pirates! Go to an indoor water park! Elvis, Elvis, Elvis, oh my god, look! More Elvis! What was up with all the Elvis stuff? And the Old West mock-ups? And the Indiana Jones stuff? And the themed restaurants? This place was creepy, and didn’t have that many people in it. It was strange. The amusement park stood still, the two outdoor water parks stood dry. It was just creepy. “Where am I? Did I just re-enter the 80’s?” I never did find that damn Banjo…

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!

May 27, 2011 0