“I drove down to the gas station for cigarettes, and I couldn’t believe that gas was so expensive!” says Beth Stuart, at the Circle K on 7th and Washington. “It’s terrible, really terrible. Has the whole world gone mad?”

All across the country, outraged Americans are suffering at the pumps and demanding answers. “Eighty f—in’ dollars? What the f—?!” one circle K customer was heard to remark after filling his gas tank.

Stanley Withers, Economics Professor Emeritus from Mclaughton College is back from his recent book tour and has been researching this phenomenon since the beginning of the summer.

“It’s a simple case of people being stunned, just stunned,” he said. “No one could have predicted that a material with a finite supply and increasing demand would become more expensive. Just like we couldn’t have predicted that other valuable commodities, such as housing, education and food would have risen in price. You can’t forecast money, just like you can’t forecast the weather.”

It certainly seems as though high gas prices have taken the nation by surprise.

“Back when it was two dollars a gallon, I was all like, ‘Two dollars a gallon? Whoa, crazy.’ Then it rose to three dollars a gallon, and I was all like ‘Three dollars a gallon? Whoa, crazy.’ Now it’s four dollars a gallon and I’m all like ‘Four dollars a gallon? Whoa, crazy.’ If it gets up to five dollars a gallon, I’m gonna be all like, ‘Five dollars a gallon? Whoa, crazy,” says Brad Potter, local avant-garde jazz enthusiast.

But what to do? How to handle this emotionally crippling and often wallet-devastating situation?

While filling his H2’s tank at the Marathon on Lincoln and Dodds, Scott Duffy was not perturbed by the rising gas costs. “I consider it buying in bulk,” he says when asked if he feels like a chump.

“I heard there was a gas shortage,” says Melanie Brighton, a customer at the same station. “So I haven’t turned on my oven in a month.”

Other Americans have attempted to find alternatives to driving.

“I try to walk and ride my bike, but it’s hot and I get sweaty,” says Jim Darnell, a CPA who works downtown. “And then when I ride the bus, people keep looking at me funny.”

Alex Nichols, a university student, has found ways to cut back on his gas expenditures. “I used to drive up to Indy every weekend to see my girlfriend. But then I realized she’s a bitch.”

Recorded on an 8-track reel-to-reel tape recorder, Notice has a live improvisational feeling to go along with its quiet, thoughtful songs. The album’s aim is “songs for the inside of your head and your home,” but it also lends itself to midnight car rides and watching storms roll in.

Notice is the brainchild of singer/songwriter David Brant who also plays guitar on the album. He wanted to “make melodic pop songs about no specific person, but people in general who may or may not be noticing their own importance and surroundings.”

Most of the tracks have mellow, relaxing melodies coupled with a driving pulse that pull the listener into a contemplative state. Songs like “Spirit of Days Events Passed” are slow and somewhat melancholy, but never dull. Their restrained energy allows Brant’s passionate vocals to float over the guitar and bass like a ghost.

Another standout track is “Her Way With Words” for its catchy rhythm. This song is a bit reminiscent of an Irish folk tune and to me most applied to the album’s description as a “lighter…boy (Leonard) Cohen on vacation somewhere warm.”

Bronze Float’s debut effort is definitely worth Notice-ing. It’s a subtle album that requires careful listening to reap the full benefit, but its thought-provoking nature merits the time.

After embarrassedly handing over my late rent, I walked across the street to investigate. Caldwell Eco-Center? Inside there were a couple of tables and some shelves, all blanketed with pamphlets and brochures. One wall sported a number of framed wildlife photographs. Following a few minutes of sniffing around, someone came out from a long hallway and asked if I needed help. Naturally shy, I panicked and scurried off. But nonetheless, I was intrigued.

Months later I returned, armed with journalistic pretense, determined to learn more, and I discovered that in spite of its humble façade and quiet interior, there’s an anthill’s activity going on inside the Caldwell Eco-Center. The space serves as an umbrella organization for several environmental groups, among them the Center for Sustainable Living, the Local Growers’ Guild, the Hoosier Environmental Counsel, and the I-69 Listening Project. These groups all have one thing in common: they are all made up of volunteers who are interested in the environment.

More than anything, it seemed to me that the Center is interested in education. Besides providing office space to environmental groups, it offers a wealth of information on a broad spectrum of topics, from growing organic vegetables to energy-saving tips, public transportation to creating a wildlife habitat in your own backyard.

“We don’t just attack symptoms, we attack the cause,” said Lucille Bertuccio, President for the Center for Sustainable Living.

The Eco-Center is also home to the Luna Moth Gallery, which showcases artwork that highlights nature and environmental causes. Most recently the gallery exhibited a collection of photographs celebrating alternative building materials such as cob and straw bales.

Another group housed within the Eco-Center is the Indiana Forest Alliance, a group fighting to end the commercial logging of Indiana state forests. As well as producing the Eco Report, a weekly radio program that airs Thursdays at 11 AM on WFHB, IFA Director Drew Laird has spent the last five and a half years in court attempting amend a lawsuit that has allowed the Department of Natural Resources to bypass the Indiana Environmental Policy Act and increase logging in state forests by five hundred percent.

I asked the Eco-Center’s volunteers what the people can do in their everyday lives to help the environment: ride bikes and public transportation, buy local, write to Mitch Daniels to stop logging and protect state forests.

“Any issue is an environmental issue,” said Bertuccio. “Without the Earth, we can’t live.”

Very few people have actually seen Fork, as it has come to be called, but plenty of people have heard of it. Likened to everything from underground performance art to native shrine, Fork has succeeded in sparking at least one universal response: reaction.

“Story goes that nobody actually saw it go in,” Morgan Dekker, webmaster of fork.com says. “It just suddenly appeared. People’d talk about how they walked by it and always wondered how the heck it got there.”

Great efforts have been made to locate the mind behind Fork, but so far, no one has come forward to claim responsibility.

“How it came to be isn’t important,” Art in Our New World Editor Sandy Byrne tells us. “What’s important is the statement the installation makes. It’s a symbol of man’s useless encroachment on nature, this absurd need to build on everything. The fact that people let Fork be and continued to admire it only further proves Fork’s point.”

Many side with Byrne in hailing Fork as art’s hippest new phenomenon, but at last month’s Vision Conference in Paris, Folklorist Dr. Saul Cohen received noted applause to his outburst of “Come on, people, it’s only a f—ing fork!”

But, shockingly, two weeks ago, the news broke. Fork was gone.

The front page of the Village Voice: “Fork. What happened?” Almost overnight, network and cable news was inundated with commentators arguing over the nature of the story, establishing or questioning Fork’s credibility. Within twenty-four hours, a top bidder paid $6.3 million for what was advertised as “the fork from Fork” on eBay.

“It just proves the power of marketing,” says Dekker, whose website sells tee-shirts and coffee mugs in addition to providing a message board for all information regarding Fork.

However, Rainbow Moonbeam, Spiritual Life Path Guru and author of Everyday Unicorns, Finding the Child in a Mad, Mad World, feels differently. “This urge to commercialize Fork is so sad. Up until it became a media sensation, Fork was a daily sacrament for the community of people that walked through that alley. Every day, they saw Fork and it made them smile. It was a shared experience, an everyday miracle. Now Fork has gone.”

On the other side of this issue is Beverly Carmichael, whose evangelical website goodchristiansprayingagainstfork.org has received over seven hundred million hits since the start of Forkophilia. The site claims that Fork is the handiwork of a satanic cult.

“The pitchfork has always been associated with the devil,” Carmichael explains. “And the fact that it was speared down on its tines? Clearly the sign of the Antichrist.”

Locally however, there has been little stir over the disappearance. Retiree Adrian Walker called it “A big load of plop. Another one of them urban legends. Either that or just some hoax for a slow newsday.”

Big load of plop or not, Fork Fever has seized New York, Chicago, and L.A, where clubs are filled with partygoers wearing “I saw the fork” memorabilia.

In the days following Fork’s disappearance, reports of what is being called Fork 2.0 appearing in Berlin and Foruku San in Tokyo interrupted the American Idol finale, sparking riots across the country. Both installations, like their predecessor, are anonymous works. At press time, Donald Trump was in talks for a forty-foot long version outside Trump Tower. HBO’s special In Search of Fork premieres next Sunday night.

“I’m glad someone moved Fork,” Moonbeam said. “It was no longer pure.”

Local transient Cecilia Rose doesn’t understand all the fuss. “Maybe somebody just thought it was funny.”

For people who start their day at night, it is an intense world in the dark, often addled with caffeine and/or alcohol, cigarettes, no sleep. It’s a lonely life too, outside the world of banking hours and the people who live their lives around them.

Or at least it seemed that way to me. There was a certain solemnity in the air as I hiked after hours hunting for life. It wasn’t sorrow, quite the opposite. I felt almost euphoric as I walked the tightrope of the center line of empty streets, the traffic lights flashing red and yellow above me.

Something I learned on the hunt, however: it is a hunt. Bloomington has a real shortage of late late night hangouts, especially now that most of the students are gone and many establishments have implemented their summer hours. People are forced to hold salon-type get-togethers in their own homes where jam bands drone for hours and people splay out on the carpet talking politics, art, physics, the nature of reality and time- you name it- for hours, punch drunk and hands waving. A good number of night owls to whom I spoke agreed that this town is in desperate need for an all-night coffeehouse.

But the shortage makes the existing hangouts all the more precious. Places like the Video Saloon or Yogi’s Grill and Bar that are open until after three most nights provide a welcome nightcap to those clocking out of second shift jobs. Initially, I was a little wary to investigate bars at three in the morning, but everywhere I went I found friendly spirits simply winding down after a very long day, playing endless rounds of pool and darts and depositing quarters into the jukebox.

“It’s a hometown place,” says IU alumni Ryan Long, about Yogi’s Bar and Grill on 10th and Indiana Ave. “Good food, good service, good atmosphere. They’re not looking to make easy money; they card at the door. It’s a home away from home.”

Atmosphere and decent food are important. Where I grew up, there was only one restaurant that was open after 9pm (yes, I grew up in the sticks), and because they knew they were the only show in town, they didn’t bother to make sure the food, dishes, floor, really anything, was clean. But although the selection is limited, Bloomington late late night hangouts are well aware they have competition. Chains that stay open late, such as Taco Bell and Steak ‘n Shake, must be well-maintained if they want repeat business. It’s the same with local “greasy spoon” diners; the menu is often typical comfort food, but it’s comfort food of the highest quality.

Waffle House on North College Ave. is an example of this at its finest. Located in the heart of barcrawl territory, it’s the perfect spot to time-out for a food coma. The radio is tuned to oldies and the coffee keeps on coming, but it’s very peaceful and relaxed. In fact, dinesite.com’s description of Waffle House as “American fare…most sought for their waffles” seemed ludicrously formal to me. This place seemed about as close to Mom’s cooking as one could get. The food is inexpensive considering the portion size, and the waitresses have a wonderfully nurturing attitude. A typical shift is 11pm to 6am for them. Over-tip; they deserve it.

One interesting alternative for after-hours entertainment is Atomic Age Cinema at The Cinemat on 4th and Walnut. Held every Saturday at midnight and hosted by the venerable Baron Mardi and Dr. Calamari, AAC shares some of the worst films ever made with the cinephiles of Bloomington.

“They have a real interesting vibe and variety of people, fresh sense of humor, and stand up comedy,” Elyse Moore, a frequent attendee of AAC told me. “It’s an experience you cannot miss, to be a true Bloomingtonian. My favorite film they’ve played so far was “Squirm,” which was essentially when worms go crazy, suddenly become intelligent, and wreak havoc and horror on a bunch of hillbillies in Mississippi.”

Add that The Cinemat is the only video store in the state with a liquor license, and you’ve got a fun night. Filmgoers can nestle into couches and lawn chairs with a beer and some Raisinets and laugh themselves silly.

In a college town, it stands to reason that not everyone up all night is doing so for play’s sake. I visited the Herman B Wells Library on 10th St. thinking that the common area would be a haven for night owls with a wireless internet connection. What fun, I thought, stretch out and watch youtube.com all night.

What I found instead was a serious work environment. Ellyn Barham, Student Technology Consultant for UITS-STC at IU explained that this was when the grad students come out for hours of uninterrupted study. At this time of of night when almost everyone’s gone; it’s easy to find an unoccupied computer, compared to the daytime when it’s busy. Just by looking around, I could tell these students were hardcore.

“You see people get mad and nervous trying to finalize a document,” said Barham. “Sometimes they’re so tired they fall asleep at the workstations.”

I could relate. After a few days of chronicling the late late night lifestyle, I was cranky and shaking from too much caffeine and nicotine and not enough food or sleep. It took a great deal of restraint on my part not to slap around the monitors when the internet connection would not run at my own revved-up pace.

So I hit the streets again and headed home to my bed, absolutely exhausted. The moon and clouds were a pretty silver, and I tried to find constellations as I walked, but I don’t know any others besides the Big Dipper and Orion’s Belt, so mostly I connected the dots and made my own.

My faux gender roles/social commentary story begins in the spring of 2006, when my roommate and I decided to go see Miss Gay IU. We were seniors, kicking ourselves, making a list of all the IU things we had not done in four years of college, and a drag show was one of them.

As we walked home from the ticket office, an idea began to sprout in my brain. “Dude, dude,” I said. “How much fun would it be if I went to the show dressed as a drag queen, like, like, if I went dressed as a man dressed as a woman? Like Julie Andrews in Victor/Victoria. I wonder if I could convince anyone I was a dude in drag…”

“Aw, dude, you should totally do it.”

And thus, mischief was sown. On the night of the show, I teased my hair, attempted ultra-theatrical makeup (finally, an excuse to wear too much eyeliner, and it’s not even Halloween!), added a counterfeit five o’clock shadow, tied a scarf around my neck to hide my lack of an Adam’s apple, wore a long jacket to obscure my waistline, etc. La pièce de résistance: a sock in the pants.

Two years later, as I was researching this article, I discovered there’s a term for all this fun I was having. “Faux queens… are women who dress in an exaggerated style to emulate drag queens.” Thanks, wikipedia, I thought I was just screwing with people!

Back to the story. We drove to the IU Auditorium and waited for the doors to open. My roommate, ever the social butterfly, eagerly made conversation with friends milling about, but never introduced me. He smiled knowingly as the people we ran into snuck glances at me. I didn’t say anything, unconvinced of my ability to assume a man’s voice assuming a woman’s. Remain silent and mysterious, no?

After we found our seats (An ordeal of me sliding past people’s knees in stiletto boots awkwardly, practicing my “man’s gait” on which my roommate had coached me), I whispered a complaint to him that my sock felt off-center. I’m far too neurotic to put up with that and had to ask what to do.

“Adjust it,” he said.

“I can’t do that, there’re people around!”

My roommate scoffed. “You’re a terrible guy…I guess you could go into the bathroom.”

But which one? Ye gods, which one? “Never mind.”

Before the show started, and then later during intermission, we were approached by several other people who gave me the same confused, uncomfortable side glance. It was hard not to feel self-conscious, but I found everyone’s reaction fascinating, including mine. Here we were, at a drag beauty pageant, and people were this shaken up. The whole experience gave me new respect for the performers.

This year, on Friday, April 18, at 8pm, OUT, Indiana University’s student-run GLBT Student Union will present the seventeenth annual Miss Gay IU Drag Pageant at the IU Auditorium. For the purposes of this story, I actually considered reincarnating my faux queen for this year’s show, but thought better of it, not feeling up to that level of scrutiny-induced self-consciousness

I asked Carole Fischer at IU GLBT Support Services for her insights into people’s reactions. She said that I, as a “real” person, blew people out of their comfort zones because drag queens are traditionally considered theatrical and different.

Personally, I’m very meek, so more than anything, walking around in a drag queen’s shoes taught me about the proverbial “balls” necessary to succeed at flamboyant drag pageantry.

“I admire the performers because of their courage, their showmanship and dedication to their craft. I am a big fan, not only of MGIU but the OUT group of students,” said Fischer. “What a courageous and activist group of students on our campus!”

Miss Gay IU is OUT’s biggest fundraiser of the year, and although the show promises to once again be a night of flashy fun, a huge amount of time, work and preparation goes into its production.

“MGIU has become a serious and recognized competition in the drag world and has gained a tremendous following,” said Helen Harrell, advisor for OUT. “The event would not happen if it were not for the dedicated support and contributions by the drag community who have devoted, time, energy and support to the students over the years. Many of the drag queens work with the students, and each year they all come together to ensure the event is legitimate, professional and adhering to academic and educational standards while still providing a fun and entertaining evening . Each year, the queens provide their guidance and take the time to participate for very little compensation.”

Contestants must complete a lengthy application in addition to all the makeup, costuming, and rehearsal—it’s tough work dancing in heels—and once crowned, Miss Gay IU can look forward to months of work appearing at OUT functions.

Past Miss Gay IUs include Misses Vanessa Vale, Alana Steele, Bianca Defy, and this year’s MC, Miss Gay IU 2007, India Black.

I asked Miss Black what she had in store for this year’s show. “Miss Gay IU is going to be a wonderful night of glamour and entertainment; it’s a chance to celebrate diversity. The theme is “showgirls” this year, and the opening will reflect that theme. Numerous former Miss Gay IUs will be in attendance and several contestants will be competing for the coveted crown. Above all it will be a fun night had by all. We hope to see you there!”

Miss Gay IU will be held on Friday, April 18, 8pm at the IU Auditorium. The doors open at 7pm. Advance tickets are $10, $15 at the door, but audience members may want to bring additional cash to tip the performers.

Beleagueredly amused, I waited for further explanation. Instead, The Trickle Down Effect all went off on different tangents, too loud and fast and numerous to entirely connect. Troupe member Walker Rhea told me that to be good at improv comedy, one must possess certain traits: “Fearlessness, lack of fear, lack of sexual fear.”

Later, after some burnt-off energy, they sat down with me and I attempted to steer the conversation back to the history of The Trickle Down Effect, Bloomington’s longest-running active improvisational comedy troupe. From what I could piece together, things began when the founding fathers of the TDE got some ninja monkeys and smashed them together.

“With the acquisition of ninja monkeys,” member Corey Jefferson said, “it became larger than ourselves.”

Their website, thetrickledowneffect.com, warns that the TDE “is known to cause megalomania in dogs as well as chest implosion, dome flippation, spinal bifida, and loss of chastity in humans.”

Their jones for ninja monkey discussion satisfied, the troupe members explained the aforementioned tirade as mostly metaphorical and began seriously answering my questions. Meanwhile, the rascally side of me visualized a fanciful article entirely featuring said ninja monkeys. Perhaps someday…

The Trickle Down Effect has its roots in the extra-curricular clubs of Bloomington High School South almost ten years ago. The professional comedy troupe Pumpernickel took on several students as “protégés,” and they soon made their debut, opening for Pumpernickel as Cletus and Virgil in 2001. The following year, the group evolved into the Trickle Down Effect

The TDE lists off a number of influences behind their material, but points to the Yes Men, a comedy troupe who impersonates those it satirizes, as the inspiration for the name and formula. The result, according to the website, “a small group of men and women who…channel the energies of economic stimulation into the enterprise of global comedic enlightenment. Upon careful consideration, they decided to base their operations in the unassuming Midwestern town of Bloomington, IN, where they knew they would arouse little or no protest.”

Performances are free and informal, with much of the material including the audience. A few skits are pre-written, but mostly the troupe plays games in which they guess secret words, repeat the same action in a different style, or switch out roles with one another. With the help of such games, the troupe builds scenes from off the top of their heads. Subject matter is political, absurd, and more than a little perverse. Shows are usually held at the IU Union or Cinemat on 4th and Walnut.

How does one rehearse improvisation? The TDE meets twice a week for practices, at which they do physical and vocal warm ups. Then they basically play the same games they play during performances, oftentimes causing rehearsals to be every bit as entertaining and spur of the moment as the actual shows. Friends and fans are always invited to come watch.

When asked about favorite characters/themes they most like to portray, the troupe twisted their lips and sighed in frustrated thought. “Improv is very different from literature because, A. it’s not literate,” Rhea said. “And B. because its structure is fluid, there’s no concreteness; so we don’t really know what we’re doing.”

“It’s a group mind,” Jefferson said. “Metaphysical. Group hallucination.”

On the other hand, troupe member Addison Rogers eagerly described one of his favorite characters, Roman Column. “When I play him, I never say his name, there’s just the general feeling for the audience. They just know that Roman guy. And he’s Puerto Rican.”

Recently, the troupe planned shows with the Boys and Girls Club and the Waldron Arts center, prompting them to practice slightly more G-rated material. Example: for one skit, self-described improv deity Adam Nahas became a diabetic Cookie Monster (Veggie Monster).

The phrase I heard again and again from all the members was, “Life is improv.” After so many years, it seems these exercises have bred their own philosophy, easily invoked by these maverick jacks of all trades when, say, out on a date or pulled over for speeding.

At press time, the troupe was preparing to take part in the IU Comedy Festival along with other local comedy troupes Full Frontal Comedy, All Kinds of Trouble for Boy in the Bubble, Awkward Silence Comedy, HoosOnFirst and special guest Beatbox. There was talk among TDE members of performing “The World’s Most Dangerous Improv Game,” a stunt where troupe members set rat traps on the floor, then walk around blindfolded.

Audiences are guaranteed a vast range of characters and situations, said Gabe Gloden, BPP’s Public Relations Director.

“There’s a psychological drama, a period piece, a dream; there’s amazing variety. You’re going to like something.”

The Blizzard isn’t a whirlwind for just the audience, either. In just a few short weeks, the BPP scrambled to organize the show, a process that included reading countless new scripts, selecting plays according to strict production guidelines (no more than three pages, no more than four characters, no complicated scenery), splitting the shows amongst three directors, and casting. “Blizzard ‘O8″ directors include Justin Anderson, Jim Hettmer, and Jack Johnson, who selected teams of four actors from the BPP’s pool of local acting talent, according to a BPP press release. Each team is responsible for nine plays, and on average each play has received about four hours of rehearsal time – scant time for any cast and crew.

Another extra element of fun added to the “Blizzard ‘08″ is its function as a fundraiser. Audiences can vote for their favorite plays, and the top four most popular audience favorites are produced again at the next season’s “Blizzard” fundraiser. For an additional dollar per vote, audiences can stuff the ballot box, a practice that apparently can become quite cutthroat, said Gloden.

“People will slip a twenty in for their friend’s play,” he said.

All proceeds benefit the BPP, a not-for-profit community theatre that produces new plays by American playwrights. The group was founded twenty-five years ago by Jim Leonard and Tom Moseman with a mission to help support the local theatre community.
BPP’s “Blizzard ‘08″ runs from January 18, 19, 25 & 26, 2008, at 8:00pm. Admission is $8 per person. Gloden forecasted four “Blizzard” performances so loaded with action that audiences may not remember everything, but that doesn’t matter to him.
“Everyone has a favorite play. Everyone has a favorite moment,” he said. “You walk out knowing you had a good time.”