LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth |
Gay 'n Gray |
by John D. Siegfried |
Scalp Collecting2008 There's a certain simplicity and honesty in a display of scalps hanging from the belt of an Indian brave. The dangling hair pieces were a testimony to accomplishment, to masculinity, and to victory. They were the portable proof on a brave's prowess. Scalping an enemy, however, in colonial times was a two-way street. It was practiced by European settlers as well as by Native Americans. In fact there continues to be intense discussion among historians whether Indians in North America practiced scalping before the arrival of Europeans or whether the white man brought his knowledge of scalping, along with measles, syphilis and other delights of the civilized world. We do know that scalping was practiced by the Scythians in 440 B.C. and by the Visigoths and the Franks in the ninth century A.D.; and we also know that on the American frontier governments paid a bounty for each Indian scalp that was collected. As late as 1780 the Governor of Pennsylvania offered $1000 for each Indian scalp. Native Americans, being equal opportunity scalpers, honed their tonsorial skills on members of other Indian tribes as well as on European settlers. Interestingly, they only scalped enemies they saw as brave and honorable combatants. As a result General Custer was not scalped after the Battle of Little Big Horn. He was seen as a coward. The practice of scalping in North America died out by the end of the nineteenth centuryor did it? That question came to my mind recently while seated around a dining table of ten gay men on a Celebrity cruise from Auckland, New Zealand to Sydney, Australia. The conversation around our table made me wonder whether the practice of demonstrating one's worth and value with a collection of scalps has disappeared or simply become more subtle and more sophisticated. Conversation began on our first evening at sea with the man to my right casually observing, "When I crossed on the QM2 the dining tables were larger than this. We weren't so crowded." "Oh, I agree," a voice from across the table proclaimed. "That ship was more spacious than this." "And more gracious," a third brave from our raiding party added. "Why, when I sailed with Oceania our table linens were genuine linen, Belgian linen at that. And Belgian chocolates were on our pillows at night." And around the table it wentcomparisons of previous travels intended to establish the number and quality of travel scalps that each of our gay Indians could display. At first it was a bit interesting, then a bit boring, and by the third night my partner and I opted for a hamburger in the ship's caf. I might have handled this innocent banter better if I had realized at the time that the knife or sharp stone of days of yore has been replaced by the conversational put-down and the sharp tongue as instruments of attack. I should have re-read Stephen Potter's One Upsmanship, a book that was popular in my college daysand I won't put a date on that but it was a more than a half a century ago. And yes, even then books were published on paper, not papyrus and the language was English, not Sanskrit. Potter, a British author and humorist declared that the way to handle modern day scalp collecting is to respond to an adversary's claim with a counter-claim that is so outrageously high, or so outrageously low that it makes the original claim appear ridiculous. For instance, when an acquaintance flashes a Rolex in your face saying, "I'll bet you have no idea how much I paid for this," the appropriate Potter response is either, "Oh, it must have cost at least a million, maybe more," or alternately, "I got one just like it the other day for ten dollars." Either assertion makes the original question appear ludicrous. My partner, Howard, uses a variation of the Potter approach when new cocktail party acquaintances start listing their accumulation of assetsscalps, if you willfor his benefit. "I keep my Bentley at my cottage in East Hampton and my Jag is at the lodge in Vail. When I'm in the city at my Penthouse in Trump Towers I simply use a limo to get around." Howard's usual response, which is guaranteed to redirect conversation but seldom gains friends is, "Unless you're planning on leaving them to me, I don't need a list of your assets." This may explain why most of our friends are relatively asset-less. I realize now that I should have replied to my fellow traveler who lamented the absence of Belgian chocolates on his pillow in Potter fashion with something like, "Oh, it must have cost you thousands of dollars more to be on a ship that distributes Belgian chocolates." Or, alternately, "You know, I've seen big bags of Belgian chocolates at Costco for $5.95. I'll bet that's where they got them." Perhaps the simplicity of displaying scalps on a belt is a more honest approach to proclaiming an individuals worth than our current custom of, "You know, on my last crossing on the QM2..." John Siegfried, a former Rehoboth resident who now lives in Ft. Lauderdale, maintains strong ties to our community and can be reached at hsajds@aol.com. |
LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth, Vol. 18, No. 01 February 08, 2008 |