The OFFICIAL Unofficial Achewood Message Board
Trivial Pursuits => Wild Card => Topic started by: Asherdan on June 06, 2008, 05:05:39 pm
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(http://i.kinja-img.com/gawker-media/image/upload/s--k5m636Zb--/m5dvkzj95cd6xl0k4nnx.gif)
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I have always gone to summer camp. First I went to a presbyterian summer camp, which was really just a normal summer camp with various theme options plus jesus. I only remember doing a mountain biking them there and rooming with a hindu kid who tried to convince everyone he could raise the dead and speak to spirits. After that I spent my time at a boy scout camp I inevitably worked for. 8 weeks on a mountain in heat and humidity with 15 other counselors, teaching little kids how to tie knots had more down sides than up sides.
The coolest part: There was a remote part of the forest that formed as a result of a WPA project. It is a totally surreal scene. All of the trees are planted in neat exact rows, all the exact same age, and because they all grew up fighting each other for sun light, they are extremely tall and thin and only have branches on the very top. They sway like waves in the wind.
So what Im saying here is that it was an awesome place to smoke dope.
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I fricking loved camp. I still see some of my camp friends every year or two. In fact the screen-saver on my work computer is pictures from our 10-year anniversary meet-up.
After going the first year I would always look forward to those two weeks each summer. It was nice to have a place where there were no TVs allowed and I didn't mind because there was so much other stuff going on. I saw a lot of great art and read a lot of great poetry. Camp is where I was first acquainted with E. E. Cummings who was my favorite poet at least into college. It's also where I first heard of Douglas Adams, now that I think about.
Plus I learned to play spades, Egyptian rat screw, and ultimate frisbee. And write my name in Mayan. I was also a subject in some kind of experiment that required me to take a bunch of personality tests. But I'm sort of hazy on what that was all about.
Then there's all the usual stuff. It was my first time really away from home. First time doing my own laundry and really make my own food choices. First time really having to worry about a budget. First time living in a dorm and visiting a dining hall.
And, most importantly, it's the one time I actually got to eat at the cool table. That was bad-ass.
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I never went to camp. I always hated those kids who couldn't shut up about how great camp was.
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I went to church camp. They had a waterslide, which was pretty much the high point. My last year there (8th grade) I "went out with" a guy with the same first name as me. (We held hands.) I also swallowed some live goldgiraffe without throwing up. My "boyfriend" was not freaked out by this. (He could only swallow two. His cabinmate did four, but threw up after. I did five, I think.)
My first year I got assigned to a boy's cabin, but that was quickly rectified.
Those are pretty much the high points.
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I loved camp. Went to church camp, 4-H camp, Conservation Camp and Boy Scout camp.
Church camp was the first. Started going the summer after 4th grade. As Arach described, it was basically summer camp with a little Jesus thrown in. I went to this camp for at least 5 straight years -- my mother was one of the first campers there and came up with the name for the camp (I kid you not -- Camp Kum-Ba-Ya). My daughter is leaving Sunday for her 5 or 6th year there. I also went to a Presbyterian summer camp one year.
4-H camp and Conservation camp were pretty meh.
Scout camp rocked. I went to two different Scout camps, worked as a CIT and on Staff. I also went to a National Jamboree. It was fun as hell. Interestingly enough, I also learned to play Spades at camp. Also much poker, blackjack and acey-deucey.
Ahh. Camp.
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i never went to camp. i was always afraid of poison ivy or food poisoning or midnight rape.
JL that's a lot of goldgiraffe. i don't think i could get past the second, frankly. unless maybe i'm in like cambodia and that's all there is to eat for a week.
cort. cortjstr. how can you possibly try to capitalize e.e. cummings. why. just why.
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i never went to camp. i was always afraid of poison ivy or food poisoning or midnight rape.
JL that's a lot of goldgiraffe. i don't think i could get past the second, frankly. unless maybe i'm in like cambodia and that's all there is to eat for a week.
cort. cortjstr. how can you possibly try to capitalize e.e. cummings. why. just why.
I was actually counting how many posts before somebody called me on that.
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cort. cortjstr. how can you possibly try to capitalize e.e. cummings. why. just why.
Dude, that is how the man himself would have wanted it (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/E._E._Cummings#Name_and_capitalization).
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still, it makes such a cute emoticon
e.e
a toddler all trying not to fall asleep as he watches his favorite disney dvd for the umpty-hundredth time
or a stoner all trying to find a clean cup to drink out of after all the stash is cached
(or a high school cheerleader all halfheartedly fending off advances after one bartyle's and james's too many)
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my main observation is... how much parents can completely mess up their kids. And how little it takes, sometimes, to take a horrible kid and make him want to be good.
Right now I am just going nuts because my kids are all incredibly well behaved nerds. They all want to tell me about the life-cycles of frogs and Buddhism and constellations, and I kind of want to say "yeah, I know that tadpoles turn into frogs" but I also want to encourage them and all that jazz. Like, the non-nerdy kids in the cabin are overwhelmed and don't contribute because they haven't read LOTR at age 9. But anyway, they are all oh so smart, and spend all of their time trying to prove this to me/each other. I guess it could be a lot worse.
One lady I kind of wanted to yell at, when she told me that her kid sometimes wets the bed, and that it's a huge problem for her, and he's been begging her for 2 years to go to camp and she said "no, you can't, not until you learn not to wet the bed." Because, you know, obviously he is wetting the bed on purpose.
As the person who would be cleaning up your kid's pissed sheets, I would much rather be doing that than have this uptight, scared kid in my cabin. She also informed me that it was "a long, painful process" to teach him how to put in his contacts. He is 9. What the fuck!? The kid does not want to be wearing contacts, it is painful to watch him sitting there in front of the mirror every day for 10 minutes trying to put them in... get over it, lady. He is 9. Tonight I'm going to tell him he doesn't have to wear them if he doesn't want to. Because it's camp. And he's 9.
We found some rad pioneer-days artifacts in the creek, including large ceramic plate fragments and the top of a dutch oven. I think I was more excited about this than the kids were, but I was SO EXCITED. (note that, part of my problem with these kids is that they make me realize that I was an annoying little smarty-##### know-it-all as a kid, and probably am still close to that now.)
in other news, I am trying to gauge what the attitude is to having makeouts with the cute co-counselors. Other than "it is illegal."
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The coolest part: There was a remote part of the forest that formed as a result of a WPA project. It is a totally surreal scene. All of the trees are planted in neat exact rows, all the exact same age, and because they all grew up fighting each other for sun light, they are extremely tall and thin and only have branches on the very top. They sway like waves in the wind.
So what Im saying here is that it was an awesome place to smoke dope.
(http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2174/2516896452_2e0693a108.jpg?v=0)
In the past 10 years, the trees have started to fall over and die (see the stumps in foreground), leaving a meadow carpet of ferns. Keep in mind this is surrounded by natural growth dense forest.
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My favorite thing about running a camp is being the boss of teenagers and using cuss words in front of them about asshole parents. I didn't get to be a cook kid, so I sure as hell baste in being the cool boss.
I won't get in to my least favorite things about running a camp. Too traumatic.
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Hell, you've made a living off of your trauma. Camp must have some real sweet trauma then.