The Cult of Bachelorhood

My on-and-off life as a bachelor existed at several Lancaster county sites, one of which was a short stint at the 340 West King Street residence. Before "The Club", I had digs on East Orange St. (1968-69) and later (just around the corner) on 33 North Lime (early 70's)It was on North Lime that a cult of bachelorhood first emerged at which several Lancaster Catholic alum notables partied such as Tim Getzloff, Dave Harnish, Pete Ricker, Bob Novochek (RIP), and Butchie Binder. Jethro Tull, Traffic, the Who, and others were enjoyed with quarts-upon-quarts of good ole F & S (Furman and Schmidt). What were they? Three quarts for $1.25?

Some years later in the late 70's when I lived out in the country outside Mount Joy, after finding my belongings out on the porch one summer, another divorcee took me in for a couple months out in Penryn, only to realize he preferred the solitary life and so suggested I find another place to "winter". Then, just in the nick of time, Mr. Tim (Getzloff) announced that the former Occupant of the second floor, first room on the right, had stripped a gear and his room was now vacant. In moved DaveP for the winter. It is because I only stayed there for a season that many 340 Club alum don't recognize my name.

This short stay at the Club nevertheless scorched several memories on my brain"
1) The still smoldering matress in the alley below my room when I moved in.
2) A Christmas sleep-over with my 3-year old daughter Ligeia, while a holiday party ensued below.
3) The introduction to the scary side of urban bachelor culture to well-bred young ladies.
4) The always occupied ,first floor, front room, which served as TV and living room.
5) The darkest, most toxic kitchen I've ever seen.
6) A total absence of memory of the bathroom.
7) The sound of Tee making "gaming noises" hour after hour in the top floor headquarters.

After leaving The 340 Club in the Spring, I found other digs out in the northern Lancaster County countryside and lived there for about 10-12 years, serving once a gain as a refuge for another host of buddies. Many close calls, but "trouble" was avoided. Looking back on it now, I'm still amazed.

Today, decades and several lives later, I'm back living in rural Lancaster County, finally happily married and still teaching English after almost 40 years. But, every time I drive down West King into the city, I make a silent, mental genuflection---Eyes, right! But, dare I look? Is it still there? Does it look the same? What ghosts haunt those rooms? Is the kitchen still toxic? When I take friends and family on driving-around tours of Lancaster, I think that 340 must strike them most, give them pause. What they think I cannot say. But, I never leave out this drive-by.

Many people see adult bachelorhood as arrested development, an extended adolescence, a self-indulgence, a failure of sorts, or worse. (I remember when the nuns called it a "vocation". What ever happened to that view? Do nuns still say that?) But, call it what you want. A cult, an aternative lifestyle, men-in-groups, am unconscious choice, a state of mind, Hotel California. No, it's not always depraved or not always ennnobling; it's almost always a bit of both.

Zappa said that nostalgia is a waste of the mind, but I think he just didn't live long enough to realize that it isn't.