Here it is!

My introduction to Baltimore didn’t come from a visit, or even a layover at BWI. It came from the movies and fiction. Because I’ve never been there. I know, I know. Hear me out hon, okay?

The Accidental Tourist, first a novel, became a movie. My mother and I saw it in 1988. I’m not sure exactly what our motivation was, but I suspect it was Kathleen Turner. We were both fans of Romancing the Stone and Jewel of the Nile, and she was one of our favorite actresses of the 1980s.

I eventually read the book, which gave a bit more insight on Baltimore than the movie did, but that’s to be expected. I read about the Old Bay Restaurant, Macon’s house, and downtown Baltimore which made it seem supremely homey. I learned that “hon” was an endearment dropped on everyone, local or visitor. I got a glimpse into the other Baltimore, the gritty, hardscrabble part where Muriel Pritchett lived, and it seemed just as homey, and a little bit scary if you didn’t know anyone who lived there.

However, the clincher that made Baltimore homey and edgy were John Waters’s films. Hairspray was great fun. I saw it first in New York, then when it came to my hometown of Fort Wayne, Indiana, I saw it again. I had no idea who this John Waters fellow was, but I liked the movie a lot. Again, it made Baltimore look fun. I also liked that he made his films in Baltimore. He didn’t make the city look like a freak show (I’ve not seen Polyester or Pink Flamingos) but I feel Waters loves Baltimore. In one of my college mass media textbooks, there was an article about how much he loved the tabloids. I got a kick out of someone who enjoyed garbage as well as highbrow stuff. I loved his writing style—here was a moviemaker who wasn’t part of Hollywood glam, but seemed to gravitate toward trash—and wasn’t ashamed to admit it.

Pecker became another favorite of mine, because I’m a photographer too. Like Hairspray, Pecker had a weirdly wonderful family that divorce hadn’t shattered. The local grocery store was a mom and pop set-up that gave a retro vibe, yet at the same time, seemed totally plausible. The pokes at Catholicism, the lesbian strip joint, and Pecker’s father’s failing bar added to the random wackiness of the film. The climax of the movie, where instead of having Pecker’s photo show in some snobby New York gallery, saw the NYC hoi polloi head to Baltimore to exclaim over row houses and party hard, Baltimore style. Come as you are. No need to be fancy, hon.

I’ve never been to Baltimore, but reading about it in fiction, and seeing it onscreen made me want to be cast in a John Waters movie. I’m ready for some fun, hon.