Like most southerners, I do my best to remain polite. It’s the proper thing to do, and it was how my mother and grandmother raised me. Speaking your mind, especially if the comment was unkind or cruel, was just not allowed. However, my southern upbringing sometimes conflicts with the blunt vitriol many gay men use like a battering ram. Like a gay Sybil, I remain in conflict with my two personalities.

Being polite and telling it like it is constantly war within me.

So, today, I shall simply let facts speak for themselves. No judgments. No critiques. No vitriol.

Gay Campground in Poconos

I came upon photos of Camp 2011 in the Pocono Mountains, which is in Pennsylvania for those who are a tad geographically challenged. It was a 3 night party, filled to the rim (oh my!) with barely clothed, almost perfectly sculpted manflesh. Events such as mud wrestling, dolphin riding (on dolphin floats in the pool, for those of you who really needed clarification), dancing at a foam party (a dance floor filled with, you guessed it, foam!), and a score of other activities awaited the campers who decided to pitch their tents at the campsite for the weekend.

DJ’s spun dance beats, disco lights lit up the campground at night, and drag queens strutted on stilettos. Even some adult film stars (that’s the southern way of saying porn stars), such as The Maverick Men (site NSFW) attended the event.

The party was even hosted by Aussie Bum. I love Aussies and their bumwear! Who doesn’t?

Needless to say, it looked to be quite the party. I wouldn’t know from personal experience. I wasn’t there in the foam dancing, or in the mud wrestling, or on the dolphin riding (OK, that just sounds wrong).

You see, as you may or may not already know, I don’t live up north. I live in the south, deep south, like deep in the heart of Texas south, where meat is a vegetable, men adjust their crotches in public while chewing tobacco, and pick up trucks are not only the rage but sport rubber-made testicles. They even have a website where you can purchase them!

A common sight in south Texas

I know. It’s extremely sad.

We don’t have camps like the one in the Poconos, but there are gay campgrounds here. Yes, even in the red Lone Star State of Texas. I’ve even been to such a campground, and let me tell you, it’s a tad different from the one with the foam party, DJ’s, and porn stars. Now, I promised no judgments and to let the facts speak for themselves, so I’m going to remain a true southern gentlemen.

Here are the facts of the southern gay campground:

Throughout the year, the southern campground I’ve visited on more than one occasion hosts theme parties for Memorial Day, July 4th, Labor Day, and Halloween. Attendees don’t have perfectly sculpted bodies. This is Texas after all, where grease and fried foods reign supreme. The lack of perfect bodies doesn’t bother me. I’m not perfect, and in fact, I’ll admit to feeling like the Belle of the Ball when I’m at the campground. It’s a feeling I could grow accustomed to!

The themed weekend parties typically last a couple of nights. Events such as costume contests, barbecuing, and swimming in the above ground pool fill the day and evening. It can be quite relaxing, which I assume is a nice change of pace from all the dancing, wardrobe changing, and hair re-stylying that likely occurs throughout the day at the campground up north. In Texas, you can simply come as you are. Which is nice. At times. Sometimes it’s okay to dress up a little. (oops, I promised no judgments, just facts).

So, back to the facts.

Events are typically relegated to board games, meals with all the fixin’s (I wonder if they eat at the Poconos camp), and chatting poolside with music blaring from someone’s iPod. No DJ comes to spin the discs for us.

Gay campsite in Texas

Unfortunately, Aussie Bum doesn’t sponsor the themed parties at my campground. I doubt those Aussie Bums would be able to find it. Even GPS devices have difficulty plotting a route along the winding roads that look like they’re leading to Camp Crystal Lake in those old Friday the 13th movies instead of a pride flag waving gay campground.

Beggars, however, can’t be choosers. While my southern campground is nothing like its sister (well, sister might not be the correct word. Maybe second cousin twice removed better fits their relationship), I still am grateful for its existence.

There may be no foam parties, or DJ’s, or scores of perfectly sculpted manflesh, but good guys go to this camp. I enjoy their company over a board game, or while tossing about the horseshoes, or even lounging in the pool. It’s a far more relaxed campground than the one I described earlier. You come as you are and you’re treated like family. You don’t have to be perfect, and you don’t have to be popular. You just have to be you.

In the grand scheme of things, who could ask for anything more? Well, if we’re asking. A few more perfectly sculpted bodies would be nice. An occasional DJ and even a sporadic foam party would make me happy too.

But no place is perfect, I suppose. Not the high intensity camp filled with dancing, debauchery, and divas or the more sedate Texas camp complete with cozy, carefree camaraderie.

All in all, they both sound like heaven to me! So I guess sometimes holding your tongue and being polite allows you to see the good in everything. I guess Mom and Nan (my term of endearment for my grandmother) were right all along. As usual.