LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth |
Gay 'n Gray: Smart People Do Dumb Things |
by John Siegfried |
For many years I've offered the old saying, Smart people do dumb things as a word of comfort, perhaps inspiration, to friends or family members who have goofed. My usual follow up is to say, "If you don't believe me, ask Bill Clinton."
He may be the most prominent of public goofuses, but he's hardly alone. My personal confrontation with the truth of that saying goes back some summers when my oldest son was completing his hike of the Appalachian Trail. He did segments of the trail over a period of several years while he was in high school and his final stint took him from Eastern Pennsylvania across the New England States with a planned finale at the trail terminus on Mt. Katahdin in Baxter State Park, Maine. My wife and I planned to meet him in Maine, both to provide transportation home and to enjoy a few days of camping. Baxter is beautiful with streams, lakes, bogs and with Mt. Katahdin rising 5267 feet from sea level. It's not a high peak compared with the Rockies but it's the highest peak in Maine and one of the highest east of the Mississippi. A unique feature is that the base of the mountain is at sea level. We pitched our tent in one of the campgrounds at the base of the mountain and daily saw young people start their climb. About the third day we decided that, since we would probably never be back in this location and never have another opportunity to climb this particular mountain, we should go to the top and we did. The climb up was tough because of the steep ascent and we frequently paused to catch our breath. By the time we reached the summit we had been hiking for five hours and we were exhausted. The view was impressive, but not awe inspiring, and it did little to rejuvenate my tired middle-aged carcass. There were miles of forests and lakes stretched out before us, but no distant snow capped peaks a la National Geographic photos of the Rockies or the Himalayas. We didn't linger long on top because we realized that, if we followed the same trail back at the same speed, darkness would descend while we were still on the trail. Without a flashlight, hiking in the dark would simulate a suicide attempt. We elected to descend by a more direct trail, but one that was little used. What we had forgotten, or simply didn't want to admit, was that we were middle aged, out of shape and exhausted. The descent was pure torture. Our increasing exhaustion produced frequent missteps, near disastrous falls and an increasing sense of peril. We made it back to our campground so exhausted that we gratefully fell onto our sleeping bags without supper, clean up or anything. We had bitten off more than we could chew, and as experienced campers we should have known better than to start a mountain climb as if it was a walk to the grocery store. It was an experience that made me very aware that smart people sometimes do very dumb things. I was smart enough to be successful in my profession and dumb enough to put my life, and that of my wife, in peril. I was reminded of the truth of that statement a few weeks ago when a friend of mine who writes a column in the Fort Lauderdale Express Gay News published an article titled, "The (other) Scarlet Letter." John T. recounted how last summer he and his partner John S. spent a month in New York City enjoying all the tourist sights, the museums and the theater. As part of their big city experience they included a trip to an uptown bathhouse, an experience which they thought would be exciting and different. A few months after their return from New York John was diagnosed with syphilis. He had the appropriate treatment but some months later it became obvious that his treatment had been inadequate and that he had secondary syphilis. A brain scan followed by a spinal tap confirmed that the nervous system was involved as well. In addition to the pain and discomfort of the series of penicillin shots for primary syphilis, and later two weeks of antibiotic therapy through a portable IV pump to treat the secondary and the neurosyphilis, there was the mental anguish of feeling he wore a scarlet S on his forehead for Syphilis. John is a well-educated man who was professionally successful in his field. He is now another member of the Smart People Do Dumb Things Club. Over the next few months thousands of smart people will come to Rehoboth Beach. Proof of their intelligence is the simple fact that they've chosen Rehoboth for their holiday. I hope none of them will return home having joined the Dumb Thing Club. Membership in the Club is hardly limited to sexual stupidity. John's Express article concludes as followsand you can substitute Rehoboth Beach for New York to make it personal. A little fun evening in New York: syphilis, secondary syphilis, neurosyphillis, health concerns, painful shots, brain scan, spinal tap, an IV pump, a Scarlet S. Was an evening out in New York worth it? Think about it. John Siegfried, a retired pediatrician and pharmaceutical executive, lives in Ft. Lauderdale but retains strong ties to Rehoboth Beach. |
LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth, Vol. 13, No. 5, May 16, 2003 |