January 20: The day I left my underwear at Calaway Park
June 5, 1989. That was the day I left my underwear at Calaway Park.
This is Calaway Park:
As you can see, Calaway Park has a roller coaster and a log jam ride and all sorts of games and corndogs and sidewalks with dried vomit on them.
But back in the 80s, Calaway Park was licensed to use Flintstones characters. Once I was walking to the Ocean Motion and I ran right into Betty Rubble. Betty shook my hand and we had our picture taken together.
So what was I doing at Calaway Park? Well, my good friends Jay del Corro, Cade M and Kelly P all had a job selling Easter Creme Eggs at Calaway Park. Kelly loved Easter Creme Eggs and she ate at least 437 of them a day. We used to have to hide them from her because she would always find them and scarf them down.
Jay drove his 1972 red jalopy into the Calaway Park parking lot and we all jumped out. We were about to walk into the park when we noticed that everybody inside was naked.
"Oh I forgot to tell you," Cade said. "It's nudist day at Calaway Park. Everyone's gonna be naked."
"Maybe that's true for the visitors," said Kelly. "But it's not true of the staff. I'm not going in naked."
"I am," said Jay. (Actually he was naked already. Jay does everything naked. I have never seen him wear clothes. Except for that one time at Orville Redenbacher's birthday, where he wore a thong.)
"Let's put it to a vote," says Cade.
So we vote and Cade and Jay vote for naked and Kelly and me say no way. Problem is Jay gets the tiebreaking vote because he drove us there. But Kelly and me - we're not going to compromise our principles. We say we're going in in our underwear.
"Suit yourself," says Cade.
So now I'm in my underwear (Spiderman underroos) and we all walk in and we see that it's not just naked people at Calway Park, it's naked Sumo wrestlers.
The naked Sumo wrestlers were mortally offended that Kelly and I weren't going au naturale. They got annoyed and then they got mad. Then they started chasing us. All of them moved in perfect unison. Big fat left legs go up, big fat left legs go down, punching bags swaying back and forth in the wind. We could smell their sweat. Do you know what 500 naked sweating Sumo wrestlers smell like? Well, next time you pass a septic tank, dive in. Then you'll know.
Kelly and I ran to the top of the water log jam because there was a sign on the stairs saying they couldn't hold more than 300 pounds.
We arrived, panting, and waited.
Below, the naked Sumo wrestlers (and Jay and Cade) surrounded us like giant bubbles of flesh. They looked up at us, scowling. There were at least 50,000 of them. They did not move. Day stretched into night. It got cold. My skin got bumpy. The Sumo wrestlers ate corn dogs and played Yahtzee and smelled each other's armpits. Kelly told me she hated me.
Finally, the next day, one of the Sumo Wrestlers took a megaphone to speak to us.
"You do the great Sumo spirit great injustice by wearing clothes in sacred Park of Calaway," he said. "You take off gotchies now or we all fart in unison. And we just ate corndogs."
I looked at Kelly, who was already stripping.
"I ain't smelling a massive group corndog fart," she said. "Lose your skivvies, Shteevie, or I'll tear 'em off."
So, what can I say. We dropped our strides and there came a great collective cheer from down below and one of the Sumo wrestlers took my Spiderman underroos and had them framed. That picture still hangs in the office of Calaway Park's current manager, Dom Deluise (no relation to the actor/comedian of the same name.)
And that, my friends, is how I left my underwear at Calaway Park.
This is Calaway Park:
As you can see, Calaway Park has a roller coaster and a log jam ride and all sorts of games and corndogs and sidewalks with dried vomit on them.
But back in the 80s, Calaway Park was licensed to use Flintstones characters. Once I was walking to the Ocean Motion and I ran right into Betty Rubble. Betty shook my hand and we had our picture taken together.
Hey Shteevie. Long time, no see
So what was I doing at Calaway Park? Well, my good friends Jay del Corro, Cade M and Kelly P all had a job selling Easter Creme Eggs at Calaway Park. Kelly loved Easter Creme Eggs and she ate at least 437 of them a day. We used to have to hide them from her because she would always find them and scarf them down.
Jay drove his 1972 red jalopy into the Calaway Park parking lot and we all jumped out. We were about to walk into the park when we noticed that everybody inside was naked.
"Oh I forgot to tell you," Cade said. "It's nudist day at Calaway Park. Everyone's gonna be naked."
"Maybe that's true for the visitors," said Kelly. "But it's not true of the staff. I'm not going in naked."
"I am," said Jay. (Actually he was naked already. Jay does everything naked. I have never seen him wear clothes. Except for that one time at Orville Redenbacher's birthday, where he wore a thong.)
Don't think I didn't appreciate that, Jay.
"Let's put it to a vote," says Cade.
So we vote and Cade and Jay vote for naked and Kelly and me say no way. Problem is Jay gets the tiebreaking vote because he drove us there. But Kelly and me - we're not going to compromise our principles. We say we're going in in our underwear.
"Suit yourself," says Cade.
So now I'm in my underwear (Spiderman underroos) and we all walk in and we see that it's not just naked people at Calway Park, it's naked Sumo wrestlers.
How to have nightmares: Step one: Image google "naked sumo." Step two: There is no step two.
The naked Sumo wrestlers were mortally offended that Kelly and I weren't going au naturale. They got annoyed and then they got mad. Then they started chasing us. All of them moved in perfect unison. Big fat left legs go up, big fat left legs go down, punching bags swaying back and forth in the wind. We could smell their sweat. Do you know what 500 naked sweating Sumo wrestlers smell like? Well, next time you pass a septic tank, dive in. Then you'll know.
Kelly and I ran to the top of the water log jam because there was a sign on the stairs saying they couldn't hold more than 300 pounds.
We arrived, panting, and waited.
Below, the naked Sumo wrestlers (and Jay and Cade) surrounded us like giant bubbles of flesh. They looked up at us, scowling. There were at least 50,000 of them. They did not move. Day stretched into night. It got cold. My skin got bumpy. The Sumo wrestlers ate corn dogs and played Yahtzee and smelled each other's armpits. Kelly told me she hated me.
Finally, the next day, one of the Sumo Wrestlers took a megaphone to speak to us.
"You do the great Sumo spirit great injustice by wearing clothes in sacred Park of Calaway," he said. "You take off gotchies now or we all fart in unison. And we just ate corndogs."
I looked at Kelly, who was already stripping.
"I ain't smelling a massive group corndog fart," she said. "Lose your skivvies, Shteevie, or I'll tear 'em off."
So, what can I say. We dropped our strides and there came a great collective cheer from down below and one of the Sumo wrestlers took my Spiderman underroos and had them framed. That picture still hangs in the office of Calaway Park's current manager, Dom Deluise (no relation to the actor/comedian of the same name.)
And that, my friends, is how I left my underwear at Calaway Park.
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