The Mystery at Camp Sister Lick

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Nanci Dwuu’s convertible darted down the country road headed for mystery. Exactly what the mystery entailed, Nanci’s friend George wouldn’t divulge over the telephone. George, a tomboyish girl with short dark hair, was one of Nanci’s closest friends, but the girls hadn’t seen each other since George had moved to Camp Sister Lick, a women’s only retreat where, according to George, “Strange things had been occurring”.

“Please say you’ll come,” George pleaded, “the owner is a real darling and she needs your help.”

Although Nanci was intrigued by George’s mystery, she was hesitant to leave Hannah Gruel, the Dwuu’s longtime housekeeper. Hannah had lived with the Dwuus since Nanci’s mother suddenly passed away when Nanci was three.

Nanci had always been suspicious of her mother’s death, and in her last adventure, The Case of the Murdered Mom, Nanci discovered that her own father had poisoned Mrs. Dwuu in an insurance scam – resulting in Mr. Dwuu’s new residence on Death Row, all thanks to his daughter’s expert sleuthing.

“Oh, and don’t bring that asshole Nick, men aren’t allowed here.” George added before hanging up.

Nanci couldn’t have brought her longtime boyfriend Nick Nederson anyway. Nick was with his buddies the Hardly Boys on a fishing trip, staying at the popular sportsmen’s resort The Rainbow Lodge. According to Nick, the lodge didn’t have phones, although judging from the evening clothes Nanci helped him pack, the lodge had a disco.

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Camp Sister Lick was located in neighboring River Side. The property was formerly an old cattle ranch newly converted into a retreat facility for women. The camp’s unusual name paid homage to the new owner’s mission of promoting sisterhood and to the property’s natural salt deposits used by ranchers as “salt-licks” for livestock.

As Nanci’s convertible approached Camp Sister Lick’s entrance, she was greeted by a bevy of angry protestors waving vulgar signs demanding the camps immediate closure on moral grounds!

“How could a women’s only camp be immoral?” Nanci thought. “Maybe they offer Yoga.”

Nanci hit the accelerator on her Mustang, causing a few protestors to scramble as she glided easily into a spot in a parking lot filled exclusively with trucks. Looking around,  Nanci felt confident that she’d  have no trouble locating her car for her return trip home.

As Nanci followed the signs directing her to the main lodge, her old friend George suddenly emerged from a path leading from the woods “Nanci Dwuu, you made it!”

George hadn’t changed much since the last time the two girls were together. She still sported her short, chopped hair, and was dressed in her trademarked unbuttoned blue flannel shirt layered over a black T-shirt tucked into her denim shorts, with a pair of beaten, black leather boots framing her pale, unshaven legs.

“So, what’s the big mystery?” Nanci asked.

“First I want you to meet the proprietor of Camp Sister Lick, I just know you’ll love her, she’s so keen!” George pulled Nanci into the lodge’s office. Behind a desk sat a woman who appeared in her late fifties, stout like a bulldog, with graying hair whipped up into a beehive.

Nanci offered her slim, well manicured hand to the woman who took hold with a firm grip, shaking Nanci’s hand as much as Nanci. “I’m Virginia Diesel, the owner of this retreat, and you must be the famous Nanci Dwuu.”

“George hasn’t filled me in yet, what’s going on?” Nanci asked.

Virginia’s voice hushed to practically a whisper, “Someone is trying to destroy Camp Sister Lick.”

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“Who would want to do that?” Nanci asked, incredulous.

“Our retreat has had some local opposition,” Virginia explained, “Maybe you saw the protestors.”

“The attacks started two weeks ago when someone stuffed tampons in all eighteen holes of our golf course. When the sprinklers came on, it looked like a field of white mushrooms sprouting out of our cups. We had to cancel the golf tournament.”

“At first we thought it was a prank, but then something else happened.”

“What?” Nanci asked, her pulse beginning to race, “what happened?”

George took over for the distraught Virginia. “Last week was the championship game of our darts competition. Everyone was just terrible. No one could get a dart on the board. The dart would sail flawlessly through the air, perfect arc, expert aim, but the dart would strike the board and fall to the floor. It was eerie.”

“Let’s have a look at those darts, maybe they’ll shed some light on this mystery.” Nanci said.

“I hope so,” Virginia cried, “if this keeps up, Camp Sister Lick will be run out of business.”

George led Nanci on a short walk to a rustic building with a plaque that read “Gertrude Stein Field House”. George opened the screen door with a rusty creak. A ping-pong and pool table indicated to Nanci’s keen intuition that this must be some sort of building where ping-pong and pool tables were kept.

Nanci walked across the room to inspect the dart board hanging from a rusty nail while George produced the darts. “I think I have the answer to your mystery,” Nanci proclaimed, holding the darts up to the light, “These are Velcro darts and you have a cork dart board. Someone must have switched them.”

“But, but, Nanci,” George stammered, “we don’t use Velcro dart boards at Camp Sister Lick!”

Just then, from outside came a piercing scream. Nanci and George ran from the field house. Emerging from the woods was a petite brunette woman with bright red lips, her flower-patterned culottes stained with mud.

image“Ahhhhhh!” she screamed.

“What happened?” Nanci asked.

“Men – in the woods” the young pretty lady gasped falling to the ground, holding her hand out to Nanci before fainting, “My name is Lizzie Lipshtick, and you must be Nanci Dwuu.”

As the two sleuths propped up the fallen girl, George filled in  Nanci. “Lizzie runs the art classes at Camp Sister Lick. Her classes aren’t well attended because they can’t compete with sports and Lizzie has never felt quite accepted. And now this!”

A crowd started to gather as Nanci took Lizzie’s pulse.

“That’s it! I’m leaving,” one guest proclaimed angrily, “This place is dangerous!”

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“I’m ruined,” Virginia later proclaimed to Nanci and George in the privacy of her office, “What was I thinking, trying to establish a little utopia for my sisters, an Eden without Epiladys. A place to celebrate our womanhood surrounded by the warm embrace of our Earth Mother.”

George was on the verge of tears, hugging Virginia, “Don’t you dare give up! Nanci Dwuu will solve this case!”

“Where do those woods go?” Nanci asked, determined to solve this mystery. George explained that the woods bordered the Tuscashawnee River, which was popular with fishermen and other outdoor enthusiasts. On occasion, boaters would pull their canoes over on Camp Sister Lick property, although there were “No Trespassing ” signs posted along the river bank.

“Whoever frightened poor Lizzie is probably still out there,” George surmised, anxious to confront the trespassers, but the approaching darkness made Virginia fearful for the girls’ safety and she insisted they wait until morning to search the woods.

Reluctantly, Nanci agreed. Back at her cabin, Nanci was finally able to rest after a long day of driving and sleuthing.

Drifting into a fitful sleep, Nanci was suddenly awakened by the sound of shattering glass. Bolting from her bed, a brick lay at Nanci’s feet with a white slip of paper secured around it. Untying the paper, Nanci detected a flowery smell before she gasped at the note’s content.

“You’re in grave danger Nanci Dwuu.” The letter was scrawled in what looked like red crayon. The note ended, “P.S. I think you’re cute!”

“Hmmm,” Nanci thought to herself. ” I didn’t think men were allowed anywhere near Camp Sister Lick.”

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The next morning, George and Nanci set out to explore the woods. Lizzie came along to point out where she saw the trespassers the night before.

Seeing Lizzie dressed in shorts and a thin T-shirt, Nanci lectured her on the dangers of deer ticks.

Lizzie laughed, “I’m so tired of flannel. Am I a traitor because I like frills and lipstick?”

“Not at all,” Nanci laughed along, “I like frilly things too!”

“We have so much in common! Lizzie proclaimed, grabbing Nanci’s hand, the two skipped along the dirt path through the woods. Nanci felt protective of Lizzie after seeing the poor girl so frightened the day before.

“I have a hunch were going to be good friends!” Nanci said, giving Lizzie’s hand an affectionate squeeze.

The forest was bristling with birds and busy squirrels looking for nuts. Suddenly, Nanci signaled the girls to be silent. Out of the peaceful chatter of the woods came the sound of male voices!

“Walk quietly, we’ll sneak up on whoever is out there,” Nanci instructed.

The girls hadn’t taken more than a few steps when from the dense bushes someone called out “Nanci Dwuu!” Looking past greenery, a smile of recognition mixed with relief swept over Nanci’s face. It was Nick Nederson, Nanci’s long time boyfriend.

“Nick! What are you doing here? I thought you went fishing with the Hardly boys?”

“We did, we lost our canoe.” Nick then called to his companions and from the trees emerged Nanci’s sometime sleuthing partners The Hardly Boys.

When George came running into view, Nick’s smile turned sallow, “Hey.”

“Screw you, Nick and your fascist paternalistic society.” George said warmly.

The two old friend’s friendly quarrel was soon interrupted by Nanci inquiring how the boys found themselves at Camp Sister Lick. Nick explained that he and the Hardly Boys were out pole fishing the previous evening when their canoe was inadvertently swept down stream, stranding them in the woods, where they stripped naked to keep each other warm.

“You gave Lizzie the fright of her life when she spotted you in the woods yesterday,” Nanci chuckled.

“Yesterday? It was well after dark when we lost our canoe.” Joe Hardly chimed in,

“We could barely see our poles.” Frank snickered and struck his brother’s arm.

Then someone else must have been in the woods, but who? Nanci thought to herself, not wanting to raise an alarm.

The girls hated to bid Nick and the Hardly Boys farewell, but men weren’t allowed at Camp Sister Lick. As it turned out, women weren’t allowed at the Rainbow Lodge, either.

“That’s too bad,” Nanci teased, “There’s nothing like a soprano voice for those great old campfire songs!”

“Nick sings soprano just fine,” Joe Hardly declared, before his twin brother giggled and punched his arm back.

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Back at camp, the three girls, hot and sweaty from their long hike, hit the showers and changed into fresh clothes before lunch. Afterward, Virginia called Nanci and George into her office. The brick that was thrown through Nanci’s window the night before sat on her desk.

“I’ve made a decision.” Virginia said to the girls, “I never thought our opponents would resort to violence, but I can’t have bricks being thrown through my girl’s windows. I’m closing down Camp Sister Lick.”

“What!” George cried, “You can’t let these terrorists win!”

“I think it’s an inside job,” Nanci said matter of factly.

George gave Nanci a worried look. Ever since Nanci helped convict her father for the murder of her mother, Nanci hadn’t been her usual self. Her sleuthing skills had suffered and she was prone to grandiose pronouncements about minor  inconveniences, like when she solved The Mystery of the Missing Car Keys or The Secret of the Stained Carpet.

“Are you sure someone from the Camp is doing these horrific things, Nanci? Why?”

“I don’t know yet,” answered Nanci, “I need more time. Don’t make any announcement until after the Softball Tournament tomorrow. That will give me enough time.”

Before Nanci could leave, Virginia wrapped the young detective in a hug and whispered, “It’ll lighten an old ladies heart if you solve this mystery my dear.”

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“Do you like our uniforms?” George asked Nanci, showing off her team’s denim baseball pants and flannel jersey with their team name “Bull Dogs” emblazoned on the back. “We’re playing against the Dykes.

“Oh, are they from Holland?” Nanci asked with excitement, “Such a lovely place!”

“Yeah, they’re Dutch,” George said, inserting a protective cup into the crotch of her baseball pants.

“I’ve always wanted to save a town by putting my finger in a dyke.” Nanci mused.

“You might get that chance.”

George then revealed to Nanci her “secret weapon” for winning the softball game, a prized baseball bat George made years ago in high school wood shop. Caressing the bat’s smooth curves, George cooed, “I d be lost without my baby.”

The softball game was a welcomed diversion for everyone, but all through the game Nanci couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to happen. Standing outside the Bull Dog dugout, Nanci suddenly became aware of a familiar sweet fragrance emanating from somewhere behind her, but when she turned to look, no one was there.

The Bull Dogs were trailing the Dykes by two runs going into the seventh inning when the Dykes sent in a new pitcher, the glare from the sun prevented Nanci from seeing who it was.

“Ball one!” the umpire called as the first pitch stopped short of the plate and bounced into the crowd. The next three pitches either sailed wildly over the batter’s head, or dropped short of the plate. With one runner already on base, the batter was walked and George was up next.

“Come on George, you can do it!” The Bull Dogs cheered. George smiled and made the traditional adjustment to her uniform cup, then reached for her prized bat… but it was gone!

“It was right here!” George insisted. Nanci felt horrible that she hadn’t kept a closer watch on things. Nanci was convinced that the sweet odor she smelled was somehow connected not only to George’s stolen bat but to the other acts of vandalism that had been plaguing Camp Sister Lick.

Reluctantly, George took the plate without her prized bat. The first pitch wobbled well outside the strike zone, but George, feeling defiant, swung anyway and her bat connected. The ball flew high and straight, making a beeline for the home run fence. The crowd went wild as George took her triumphant lap around the bases, stopping only to unleash a stream of tobacco spit at third.

A fanfaronade of buttocks slapping greeted George as her foot touched home. The Bull Dogs had won the tournament!

As the teams congratulated each other, Nanci was alerted to the same sweet fragrance she smelled earlier. Sniffing around, Nanci found the source of the perfume smell. Grabbing that player’s arm, Nanci turned the girl around, “I’d like a word with you -“

“Lizzie! What are you doing, I thought you didn’t play sports,”Nanci gasped, her eyes wide with surprise.

“I don’t, but I’m pitching in!” Lizzie laughed at her own pun. It was Lizzie who had pitched so horribly the last inning and probably stole George’s prized bat!

“You’re behind the attacks at Camp Sister Lick!” Nanci cried out, holding tight to Lizzie’s arm. Lizzie tried to pull back, but Nanci’s grip was too strong, so instead Lizzie shoved Nanci to the ground and the two girls wrestled in the dirt for about a half hour before George finally separated the mud soaked girls.

“Nanci… have you lost your mind?” Virginia cried.

“I’ve discovered who has been sabotaging Camp Sister Lick.” Nanci declared.

Just as Nanci predicted, George’s purloined baseball bat was found in Lizzie’s locker, along with the missing darts and several bricks similar to the one thrown through Nanci’s window.

“How’d you know it was Lizzie?” George asked her old chum.

“Well, Camp Sister Lick is fragrance free,” Nanci explained, “I noticed the first time I met Lizzie that she was wearing Calvin Klein. At first I wasn’t sure it was Lizzie, because Calvin Klein is a unisex fragrance”

“Lizzie tried to throw suspicion off of herself by making it appear a man was behind the attacks, first by making up a story about seeing men in the woods, and then throwing a brick through my window with a flirty message. When I saw Lizzie wearing that stolen softball uniform, though, I knew she was the culprit.”

“Uh, Nanci, she’s been playing softball all Summer – her name is stitched on her jersey.” George interrupted. “Anyway, why would she do these things?”

“Employment security!” Nanci replied, “Lizzie thought if she ruined all the more popular activities the women would have no other choice but to attend her art classes.”

“Will she go to jail?” George asked.

“That depends on whether Virginia wants to press charges.” Nanci said, turning to Virginia, “I’m hoping you won’t. Lizzie needs a steady job more than prison. I’ve arranged an interview at the Rainbow Lodge where Lizzie’s art classes will be more in demand. You’ll give her a good reference won’t you Virginia?”

“Anything for you Nanci Dwuu!” Virginia laughed.

And so Nanci Dwuu closed the file on The Mystery at Camp Sister Lick. But Nanci and a mystery were never far apart, and soon Nanci would be immersed in The Clue to the Secret of the Misplaced Remote.

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Judy Garland and Stonewall

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No one ever claimed Judy Garland’s death started the 1969 Stonewall Riots that historians credit with launching the modern gay rights movement. But Judy’s presence looms over those riots like Glinda the Good Witch from the “Wizard of Oz”.

Judy is the Fairy Godmother of the gay rights movement largely due to her string of celebrated concert tours throughout the fifties and sixties – performing to sold-out houses wherever she went. Judy’s pill addiction kept her out of the movies, but she found great success on the stage, becoming one of the most popular and highest paid live entertainers of the 1960’s. Judy was a survivor and other survivors responded to her. People would read about Judy’s latest troubles in the newspapers and the next week she’d be wowing them at the Palace. Her live performances were legendary and at these shows, closeted homosexuals saw each other in DROVES and realized, perhaps for the first time, that they weren’t alone – that there was such a thing as a gay identity.

With being gay practically illegal nationwide, it must have been quite liberating to see Judy and as a bonus find out you were part of a bigger family – that there was a rainbow you could get over.

I know this sensation first hand, because I felt this same thing when I was a teenager in Ohio going to my first Liza Minnelli concert. I’d never seen so many gay guys in my life! The rush I felt at the recognition that I could be myself for the next two hours – that I was with family – that was beautiful for me and it must have been even more beautiful for guys in the straight laced 1960’s.

This highly visible gay presence at Garland’s concerts did not escape the attention of the national press, including a high profile article in Time magazine that made horrible, stereotypical fun of Judy’s loyal gay audience. From Wikipedia: Time magazine reviewed Garland’s 1967 Palace Theatre engagement in New York City, and wrote that a “disproportionate part of her nightly claque seems to be homosexual.” The review goes on to say that “[t]he boys in the tight trousers” (a phrase Time repeatedly used to describe gay men) would “roll their eyes, tear at their hair and practically levitate from their seats” during Garland’s performances.

The attached clip below is from an interview Garland did in Chicago while on her 1967 tour (interviewed by Irv “Kup” Kupcinet) where towards the end she is asked about the above mentioned Time article that cast aspersions on her fans and her “homosexual audience” and Judy angrily defends her fans, and casts some shade on the writer.

So, Judy didn’t start the Stonewall Riots, but her public funeral in Manhattan the very day (and night) of the riots helped fill the Stonewall Inn, when a portion of the over 40,000 fans who filed by Judy Garland’s open casket later went down the street to have a drink in her memory at the only real gay bar in town – the Stonewall Inn.

Sandusky Duggared Me So Hard My Hastert

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Uh-oh! Looks like another “family values” Republican has a dark secret – which he was willing to pay a former student $3.5 million in hush money to stay hushed! When the sketchy details were laid out in a federal indictment last May, we all knew it was a sex scandal behind the hush money. The only question was: Boy or girl? Since ex-Speaker of the House Denny Hastert was also a former wrestling coach at Yorkville High, I immediately put my money on “boy”. I should have used the plural. Boys. At least four of them identified so far.

Of course, being a Republican, Hastert made it his duty to make life as difficult as possible for gays.

Here’s ex-Speaker Hastert’s LGBT voting record:

  • Voted NO on prohibiting job discrimination based on sexual orientation.
  • Voted YES on Constitutionally defining marriage as one-man-one-woman.
  • Voted YES on Constitutional Amendment banning same-sex marriage.
  • Voted NO to overturn “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” ban on openly gay soldiers.

It’s getting to the point when a politician comes out against gay marriage, you automatically wonder how many kids they’ve fucked.

* This whole thing reminds me of that old political maxim: Don’t get caught in bed with a dead girl or a live boy.

* There may be additional victims, (maybe they settled for less than $10,00 in hush money). I’ll update when I find out more or have some better jokes.

**Update:

Heres a snippet from Coach Hastert’s book posted on Buzzfeed.

“I felt a special bond with our wrestlers,” he writes in the book, “and I think they felt one with me. In my talks with them, I stressed how important it was that they learned to do a few things well. That was better than trying to do everything halfway. ‘It’s work and not talk that wins championships,’ I kept telling them. ‘Perseverance is the key in whatever you do.’”

Also, it appears the Coach was kind enough to volunteer to drive some of his team members to wrestling camp way, way far off in Colorado! And they all stayed in a single cabin!  What a caring Coach.

***Update: Breaking News!

Hastert sentenced to 15 months in prison!

Also, Hastert’s victims confirmed as male members of the Wrestling Team he coached. (Told you so last year!)

Politics is so strange. One of Dennis Hastert’s victims is former Illinois Republican State Rep. Tom Cross’s younger brother. The victim never came forward publicly until Hastert, shockingly, and in very bad taste, asked his victim’s brother to write a character letter for Haster’s sentencing for bank fraud.

I don’t get it. Did Hastert forget he molested this man’s brother? How many kids did this perv abuse?

What’s really weird is that Dennis Hastert replaced Newt Gingrich as Speaker of the House of Representatives after Gingrich got caught having an affair and after Gingrich’s replacement Bob Livingston got caught having an affair. So, all three Speakers of the House involved in prosecuting Bill Clinton for lying about a BJ were themselves covering up dark secrets!

Scary Indiana, Scary Indiana…

For those morons who think Indiana’s religious nut law is “just like” 19 other states, let me educate you: there are federal protections against discrimination for race and sex, but not sexual orientation. A gay person can legally be fired in any state that doesn’t have a non-discrimination ordinance like we do in Illinois. The state law in Indiana supersedes local non discrimination laws, like the one in Indianapolis, making the refusal to hire or service gay people legal throughout the state. The whole reason the law was enacted was to give permission to bakers and florists to refuse service to gay couples. The law is the direct result of animus against gays. It is hate.

People with low IQs can’t imagine that similar laws may have different effects in different states depending on what other laws are also in effect. For example, each State has a constitution that may limit the scope of any law subsequently passed. Illinois’ Anti Discrimination Law gives statewide protections to LGBT in hiring, housing and public accommodations, excepting “ministerial” employers from the law. The Illinois Religious protection act doesn’t strip away these protections. In Indiana, where there were no protections to begin with, except at the local level – which this new state law now overrides, LGBT are further disadvantaged because the State has given explicit signals that gays are the real subject of this act.

To those bigoted businesses owners who think they should be able refuse service based on their freedom of religion, I ask you: who paid for the the road leading people to your business? Who paid for the sidewalk? The Police, the Fire Department? The taxpayers in your community paid for the infrastructure that allows you to prosper, including gays and divorcees, and people on their 5th marriage. Public accommodation laws respect this arrangement. Indiana’s law turns this polite concept on it’s head.

I could imagine begrudgingly supporting a version of Indiana’s pro discrimination law if it required businesses to display on their windows and websites which taxpayers in the community they refuse to serve. That way no one would have to suffer the indignity of being turned away from a public business for violating the owners hateful religious beliefs.

I’m definitely gonna join this boycott. But I HAVE to travel through Indiana a few times a year to visit my Mom in Ohio. Should I call ahead to inform them of my new religion, The First Church of No Speed Limits? I’d hate to have my religious beliefs infringed on the Tollway. #boycottindiana