I went on our annual chorus retreat this weekend, up in Holmes, NY, about 90 minutes north of the city. We left on Friday night and came back on Sunday. Matt’s in the chorus, too, but he didn’t go, because he was busy with work stuff.

When I was at UVA, I sang with a men’s chorus, the Virginia Glee Club. Being in that group was one of the most emotionally fulfilling experiences of my life. Once I left UVA, I never thought I’d find an adequate substitute, but I seem to have found one in my current group – with the added bonus that we’re all gay. I moved back up north in August 1999 but didn’t discover this group until four years later. They weren’t as well-publicized as the famous NYC Gay Men’s Chorus (whose music is not my style), but two years ago I finally found these guys. And unlike the situation with a college or university chorus, I don’t have to graduate and leave the group. I can stay in this chorus indefinitely.

The retreat was a blast. I stayed up until 4:00 a.m. both nights, which I hadn’t done in forever. On Friday night we all arrived in our various carpools, and a few of us stayed up late playing a couple of games: first this game called Psychiatrist, followed by “I Never” – always a fun one. You learn a lot about the seamier side of people in that game.

On Saturday we had three rehearsal blocks interspersed with meals and free time. One chorus member and I saw a flock (group? pride? gobble?) of wild turkeys. We slowly approached them, and when they saw us approaching they slowly marched into the woods. We followed them into the woods as the guy with me made turkey noises. They weren’t fooled. Eventually the turkeys walked up to and across the nearby road, so we gave up. Why did the wild turkeys cross the road? (Ba-dum-pum.)

Saturday night, after dinner and a final rehearsal, we had an outdoor bonfire complete with beer and ‘smores.

We also had a special guest.

On Friday night, I’d been in the first car to arrive at the lodge, along with my conductor and two other guys. As we were setting up our blankets and pillows in various rooms that first night, this guy showed up to introduce himself and see who was in charge. He worked for the Presbyterian center that owned the lodge and was staying next door to us; he was there to keep an eye on things and see if we needed anything. I directed him to our conductor. After he talked with the conductor and left, the four of us conferred and decided that he’d mildly set off our gaydar. And he was young and kind of cute.

On Saturday afternoon, another chorus member saw him and invited him to that night’s bonfire. So he showed up. Eventually.

At first he lurked. He walked past us a few times while talking on his cellphone, as if he were afraid to join us. But some of our guys finally reeled him in. He was 21 years old and rail-thin with cute dimples. He was a dance instructor and mentioned that he’d once worn his Presbyterian shirt to a gay club. But only a couple of us heard that remark, so eventually, to get his message across, he told us that he was gay. He had this weird way of laughing – he’d collapse onto the ground and let out these high-pitched shrieks on his inhalations. During one laugh he even fell off a bench. It was really disconcerting. He’d been through three sets of foster parents when he was a baby and didn’t get along with his current adoptive parents at all. He’d self-pierced his ear and his nipple. Upon being asked, he said that he’d done sexual stuff before, “but none of that butt shit.” He basically spends his time living up there in the boondocks with no gay friends and not very many other people around. A few people mentioned that he smelled like he hadn’t showered in a couple of weeks.

It was all very bizarre. We’re pretty sure that he didn’t wind up hooking up with anyone. There was one candidate – the last guy to go to bed – but according to him, nothing happened. One would have had to get past the smell, I guess.

On Sunday morning we all had breakfast, packed up, and left. Our car nearly ran out of gas on the way back, but we managed to find a gas station in time. We got back to the city in the early afternoon.

The whole thing was a really nice break from regular life. It’s weird how you can take a week off from work and stay home and not feel like anything has happened, but on the other hand you can go away for less than 48 hours and come back home feeling completely refreshed. I only wish we did this more than once a year.