The Green Angel

The Green Angel was a bike I found at the Easthampton Dump with good ole Stan [the maintenance man]. As we were dumping stuff at the "dump" a beam of light shined in my eye. It was the sun reflecting off a reflector of an old bike. When I investigated a little deeper, I notice an intact bike. The bike's frame was rusted and it had a bannana seat, but, other than that, the bike was solid!!!! I brought it back to camp, spray painted it green, pumped air in the tires and named it "The Green Angel". My thought was to use this bike to get in shape for football. Although I sincerely doubt my football coach would consider 4 times around lake Quacumquasit [in the span of two months] getting in shape ..... :)

My designated Route? ... if you read above you'd know ....... Lake Quacumquasit. Why? ....wherelse could I go? My workout began with a swift [but brisk] ride outside of the camp entrance. I would take left, and ride towards the public beach. Pedal, Pedal .... coast. Pedal, Pedal ..... coast. [it was kinda fun] Anyway, once I passed the Public Beach I encountered a fairly steep hill [great workout by the way]. AND EVERYTIME I "ALMOST" REACHED THE TOP OF THE HILL.... A BLACK LABRADOR RETRIEVER WOULD COME OUT, SNARL HIS TEETH AND CHASE ME! No lie, the 4 times I did this route, the same dog would come after me. Lucky for me I was coasting down the hill by the time the dog almost caught up with me. There's nothing like trying to concentrate on not wiping out while you are laughing and crying as a dog is trying to nip at your toes.

Anyway, whenever I see a bannana seat on a bike, I always think back to the "Green Angel" with a smile ....... Truly good times.

The Five Mile Road Race

On a typical night off at camp, as a counselor, you had a few choices to occupy your time. Besides the obvious, staying in camp and hiding from your campers, you had the option of going out in to "town" for the night. There were basically two directions that you could choose from outside of camp, one that lead to Rte 20 and the other that lead to Rte 9. Each of these destinations had minimal options for young people, especially people under the age of 21.

For us, the most fun was to go to Friendly's which was out on Rte 20. When our little group of friends all got the same night off, we wanted to get there as quick as possible. In order to do this, we had to take a ride on the five mile road. Which, oddly enough, runs exactly five miles from the camp entrance and Rte 20. We would sometimes race in two or three cars to see who could get there first. A lot of times, this was completely reckless and speeds were too high. I remember one time that I swear we made it from camp to Rte 20 in 8 minutes.

One of the things that we did on those rides is get behind a random vehicle that was innocently traveling on the five mile road and shut our lights off. It would really freak the other driver out. Sometimes we would do this to each others cars as well. The road has few lights on it so when you did something like this, the only way to see was to use the lights of the car in front. Sometimes, as a joke, if you were in front, you would shut your lights off too, leaving everyone scrambling for the switch to their headlights before running off the road and smashing in to a tree. We figured out, after doing this many times, that it was almost possible, on a clear night, to ride with your lights off completely and use the tops of the trees as guidelines. Once your eyes got used to it, you could see from the moonlight.

I don't recommend doing this type of thing to anyone. I have no idea what we were thinking but I do know that a lot of times, we ended up laughing our asses off all the way down the five mile road. Seeing as there was almost nothing to do at the end of the road, we at least found some excitement along the way.

Taking Down the Docks

For all you newbie counselors that get suckered into staying an extra day to assist with "wrapping things up", I thought I might reveal one trick that worked for me over the years. .... It's called the "one-finger lift".

Here's how it works:

Step One: Volunteer to assist with taking in the docks. There are always 5 to 6 "heroes" that really WANT to lift the docks --sooooooooooo, let em lift it, while you practive the one finger lift!

Step Two: When it's time to take the docks in, make sure you are standing on one of the long sides of the dock. For example ---each dock is rectangular --- thus, make sure you are on one of the long sides (not the short side). Be careful, some that are wise to one finger lift may try to get to the long side before you. If so, a quick nudge or elbow to the face may be in order.

Step Three: When it is time for everyone to lift the dock, squat down, and mimic all others as if you in fact are lifting the dock. Normally a small grunt and face wince should suffice.

Step Four: Do not ..... I repeat, DO NOT actually attempt any physical effort to lift the dock --- If you do. --Stop right away and re-read Steps one through three.

Step Five: Once the dock is in the air, and everyone attempts to walk it back to the boat house, you can now attempt the one finger lift. Please check your form by putting one finger on the bottom of the dock (while you uncontrollably laugh [in side your own mind] knowing of what you have accomplished). So long as you (1) don't break a sweat; (2) keep a straight face; and (3) [the most important thing] don't lift the dock, you have mastered the one-finger lift.

Step Six: Once the dock is placed on the ground, yell some explicative while complaining to others that the two clowns beside you weren't lifting their share!!!!!!!!

For a seminar on fuseling look back at earlier posts.

Stay tuned to learn how to "clean" the shower room, while actually watching a movie in the movie room (*quoted by one of the posse three "this one is a must read!!!")

Songs of Camp Day

I just heard "American Pie" by Don McLean on the radio. It immediately reminded me of the time I was hanging out at the waterfront with friends, and Dave Grossman cranked this song up on his radio. I again quickly smile, as I envision Billy Rose, walking around the Jr. Unit blaring Van Halen tunes! Of course, songs from BBD, New Edition and Bobby Brown immediately remind me of my Wife, Jen, as these were songs I listened to at camp when we first met.

I bet that all of us that went to camp in the 80's and 90's can relate to different songs or groups that "bring us back to best days of summer". Each song representing a memory of camp, that is quickly brought to mind at the precise moment that certain song is being played. Thus, those that are reading this, and want to put a quick smile on their face, heres a recommendation ........ Go through your old camp stuff (if you have any), put on some of those "memory tunes", and remember the "good times". -- ....................... As I am right now.

Camp Fires

When was the last time you sat around a good fire? Before I attended camp I had never been to a camp fire. I remember the first one that I went to as a camper, it was down at the waterfront over where the T-dock used to be. Most people walked in little groups and slowly sauntered down the camp road, passing by Bascom and on to the beach. One counselor brought some wood to pile on the huge stack that was already there and another some dry leaves. This seemed to make sense and I realized that I had never given much thought to what went on during a camp fire.

Then I noticed someone carrying a can of gas. Yes, gas. The counselors went kind of nutty and made the fire so big that it actually made me a little nervous. I just sat there in awe of the entire situation. Then someone started to sing a song and a counselor who's name I forget, took a long running start and jumped over the middle of the fire! This made everyone cheer (even me). I thought, at that moment, that these people are crazy. I also noticed, despite the madness, that this fire thing caused everyone to start acting more like a big group than a bunch of little groups.

My favorite part was the camp song. This first camp fire, everyone knew how it went but me. Before I could even think of feeling left out someone leaned over, put there arm around me and said, "Ready, here's how it starts...On the shores of..." I could hardly hear what she was saying, but it actually gave me a feeling that I belonged there. I had never experienced anything like it. It was almost perfect.

As the flames started to get lower and weaker, time sort of slowed down just a bit for me. I noticed the embers against the water's reflection of the dark blue sky. I felt the air of a balmy July night as the sun sank behind the trees across the lake. A few times, when everyone was busy yelling, singing, and laughing, I took a deep breath and just simply watched. I swear that no one noticed. Those camp fires were just the sort of thing that could make you kick-back, relax and enjoy life.

Color War

We all recall whether we were on the green or the gray team; however, I remember that some years there was a black team. The black team consisted of the campers that didn't want to get involved with color war (some for the right reasons [e.g.why compete against others] and others for the wrong reasons [followers trying to be cool]). In any event "I got it". Although I always participated in color war, I remember my first year, and the pressure color war placed on me [and I'm sure some other kids].

The event was..... "Everyone Toss your shoes in the middle of a pile, and then find them" . . . I tossed my shoes in, and wouldn't you know, I was the last kid to find and put on their shoes. I will never forget the ridicule I received from some of my "teammates". Although I was a young Jr. (around 10 years old) some of the Senior Campers wouldn't stop harping on how I potentially cost them color war.

The funny thing is -- I don't remember if we won that year. I don't remember the d-bags that harrassed me. I do remember my sister and her friend sticking up for me though. With the quick use of words and threats -- my sister and her friend got those d-bags to back off quickly. .... Thanks Sis and Becky.

The lesson I learned that day is "competition can bring out the best or the worse in a person". I also learned that next time I play "Everyone Toss your shoes in the middle of the pile" -- to tie my shoes together.

The Reprimanded Rescuer

I worked a lot on the waterfront. I always liked to swim and when I figured out that I was pretty good at it, I started to focus on it. After years of swimming lessons, before camp one summer, I spent 2 very cold weeks in Maine and got certified as a Water Safety Instructor (WSI) . I was already a certified lifeguard so it was a logical step. I wasn't a very fast swimmer or flashy in any way, but I could get the strokes down fairly well and I liked to teach. At camp, since I had my WSI, I was given more things to do on the waterfront. I taught a good amount of swimming and also things like snorkeling, sailing, canoing, etc.

One afternoon I was waiting for my snorkeling class to show up. I was sitting on the H-dock next to one of my campers, Aaron. He was also in my snorkeling class. He was a very hyper kid and was very hard to handle some days. I suggested that he do some kind of snorkeling or swimming activity every day because it helped him with his hyperactivity. That kid could swim all day and still keep the rest of the cabin up late talking.

Once everyone was present, we prepared to embark on a short swim in and out of the weeds in front of the old boathouse. In order to keep other boats aware of our expedition, we used a small white buoy (made of Styrofoam) with a red and white diving flag that stuck out of the top. The buoy was very old and in need of replacement. You could see the end of the flag stick through the bottom of the buoy and it had a small, metal piece on the end to hold it in place.

Since this was an intermediate to advanced class, I took them in to water that was about 6 to 7 feet deep. It was a pretty clear day and we were all diving really well. We were swimming down to the bottom to see what kinds of things we could find. Everything was going fine until Aaron and one of the other campers swam to the bottom and something scared them. I think it was a fairly large pike. When Aaron got startled (and he did often) he would swim up to the buoy and hold on for protection. Usually, there was nothing to be scared of and he was just being his nervous self. This time, however, he lost track of where the buoy was and came up straight under it. He came up so fast that he hit the back of his neck on the metal part of the flag stick.

He seemed stunned in the water for a second or two because he wasn't moving. When he regained his bearings, he swam up to the buoy and held on, but was slipping a bit and seemed kind of "out of it." So, I told everyone else to swim in and I grabbed him in a rescue stroke. I remembered that he hit his neck so I told him to relax and I put his arms over his head to stabilize his neck and spine. As I swam in with him, I asked him if his neck was hurting and he said "yes." I asked him if he felt tingling in his hands and feet. He said "yes." So, I decided that when we got to the beach I was going to put him on a stretcher, stabilize his whole body and take him to the infirmary.

We put him in the stretcher and he was lucid and talking so I didn't think that there was a problem, but you can't be sure with neck injuries, so I decided to keep him tugged in the wraps around his head, waist and feet. We put a neck-brace around his neck as well. We took him to the infirmary across the beach as people asked us what happened. I said, "he hit his neck, we are taking him to the infirmary to make sure he is ok, but he's going to be FINE."

As we were walking to the infirmary, we passed the water front director and she yelled at me. Point blank, yelled at me, "what happened? what are you doing? Is he ok?" She was panicking. I told her the exact same thing I told everyone else, walked passed her and in to the infirmary. When we got there, the nurse (wisely) called the paramedics who came to check out Aaron.

Now, you would think that this was a good thing. However, both the water front director and the director of the camp told me to go to my cabin and they would "call" me if they needed me. When the paramedics got there, they treated Aaron for minor injuries but said that there were no serious problems with his neck or spine. They also said, that the rescue was a "textbook" stabilization and that I had handled the situation flawlessly. This was what the nurse relayed to me when they left a couple of hours later.

Aaron's injuries turned out to be fine. I was hugely relieved that he was ok. I completed my first inline stabilization rescue from swim to beach (which was me treading water along side Aaron holding him up and talking to him). Then a calm and quickly executed backboard usage and carry without causing major panic. Finally, to the infirmary where the victim was taken care of immediately. I felt good about what I did because it was exactly how I learned it from recognition of an injury to crowd control to rescue execution. I was surprised I did it with that much confidence actually. And, it turned out that I did the right thing.

I was never thanked (unless you count Aaron and his parents). Neither the camp director nor the water front director talked to me to ask me what had happened. I was told that the director was actually "mad" at me because I had put Aaron on a rescue board. I was so surprised by this that I said to myself, the next time this happens, I am going to do it twice as good. The director of the camp and the water front director, that day, lost my respect. I was not the "model" counselor, but I knew my water safety better than anyone.

I'm not sure why I keep remembering these types of things. I really loved going to camp. I just think that things like these should not go unsaid. As I wrote earlier, after I stopped going to camp, I applied to the South Yarmouth Beach Rescue. I took the test for beach lifeguards and passed the first time. On many different occasions, I was part of the crew that watched over Seagull beach which holds more than 10,000 beach-goers. Our group for that beach usually consisted of 8 rotating guards either on foot, guard-stand, rescue board or jet-ski. They didn't punish people at the beach for making rescues (which almost everywhere on the planet wouldn't make sense) though they did expect a lot more of you. I think that out of all of the rescues I took part in out on the big beaches, the one with Aaron, at camp was my favorite to remember. Even in front of people who had no idea what to do and misguided leaders like the two directors I mentioned previously, I did my job well.

"Aw, Fudge!!!!!"

I'll never forget this one camper, Jeff Fishe (sp?) .... one of my all time favorite campers! He often wore army fatigues and loved to use the word "Frickin'". Not so much in a bad way, but, whenever the sentence called for it, Jeff would add the word "frick"or "frickin'". Of course, I was always having to correct him, by stating "Jeff, you can't say frick!" [although truth be told, frick was a lot better than the other "f" word!]. Everytime I would correct Jeff, he would always apologize and then go on his way.

I'll never forget the one time our cabin was getting ready to go to the waterfront. I said "Jeff, it's time to go swimming". Jeff's reply ... "I'm not frickin' going!!!!" I stated "Jeff you can't say frickn'" He proudly responded "Sorryyyyyyyyyyyy Corky (with his charming smile) I'm not fudgin' going!" - I couldn't help but laugh. Throughout the rest of that summer session, whenever the sentence called for it, Jeff would add the word "fudge" or "fudgin'"

Hey Jeff, If you out there: "How the fudge are ya?"

Matt The Ninja

This story is about my friend Matt Morrell. He was one of my best friends growing up. He was one of those people that you just liked because he was always up for anything. We used to play Dungeons & Dragons at his house and he was usually the dungeon master. OK, now that you know I was partially a geek in high school...

Matt always liked to hear about camp but he didn't go with us when my brother and I left at the beginning of the summer. Partially because he couldn't afford it and because his parents weren't interested in him leaving home for that long. One summer, however, my Dad figured out a way to work a deal so he could go for 2 weeks and if he liked it and his parents were ok with it, he could stay the rest of the session. I am not sure how he did this, but who cares, Matt went to camp. We got in to the same tent, tent 2 to be exact. We had a great time. This particular story is about one of those times that I look back on and just smile.

See, Matt was taking karate classes, and we used to wrestle and fight and pretend that we were ninjas. We used to sleep outside in a tent in my back yard sometimes. In the middle of the night, we would get up, put on all dark clothing and sneak around my neighborhood. We would do things like turn people's lawn furniture upside down or move potted plants in to the middle of the street... just stupid mischief.

This translated well to camp. When Matt came to camp, we used to sneak out every night. In fact, we were always tired at breakfast and our counselor, Josh, used to ask us why were so tired. We would laugh and quietly joke how we never got caught. One night, someone else in our tent woke up while we were getting ready to sneak out and he said, "man, am I hungry." Matt, in his ever adventurous attitude said "let's raid the dining hall." Other members of our tent started to wake up and luckily, our counselor was out on a late night himself. No one else was brave enough to go but they were bold enough to dare Matt. So, Matt the Ninja, standing by his idea, started to make his way to the dining hall.

Our tent was close enough to the dining hall that we could see all the way up the moon-lit dirt road to the front door. Matt made his way through the shadows silently and across the front of the camp store, and in to the dark loading dock area of the dining hall. While he was in the dining hall completing his raid, two people came by and sat on the wooden swing that was in the shadow of some trees just off to the left of our tent. We couldn't see who it was, but feared for the worst. A few tense minutes later, Matt reappeared and moved effortlessly back in to the shadows. He emerged from the tree-line only 15 feet away from our tent with so many snacks, cupcakes, chocolate milks and cookies that both of his arms were full. He looked left, then right, then moved toward our tent.

When he was only steps from the tent-flap a single beam of light flashed on to Matt from the swing area where, my Dad (senior unit director) and his assistant were patiently sitting waiting for Matt to pass. The words "Mr. Morrell, what is that you have in your hands, hmmm?" We all started laughing because the Ninja had been caught in the act! Now, those of you who know my Dad must know that this event did not go unpunished. Matt had to clean up the dining hall and return all of the things he took right at that moment. Also, because I didn't stop Matt from stealing the yummy little items, I was also randomly punished and forced to help Matt clean the dining hall. My Dad has a sense of humor like that...

Even though Matt got caught doing that it was totally worth it to him. He was a brave guy and I never remember him being afraid of anything. A couple of years ago, he died in a car accident. I think about him all the time and wish that I could talk to him about that night. Still, it just makes me smile to remember him sneaking around, pretending he was a ninja.

Legend of Wheelchair Mary

The legend of Wheelchair Mary originated from a YMCA camp I attended when I was about 8 years old. The name of the camp was Pilgrim Day Camp. Keeping in mind that this story scared the crap out me, and I heard it at a DAY camp, I figured the story would work "wonders" at a sleep-over camp ...... as I suspected ..... I was right! The last time I told this story was the Summer of 1990. I remember this night well ---- I just completed the story, and began to get usual bombardment of questions from the campers trying to find flawed facts to contradict or disprove the truth of the story. Of course, I was used to these questions, and answered them all convincingly!!!!!! About a half hour later, Dan, Eric and I stood out in front of the cabin and began to chant "Wheelchair Mary, Wheelchair Mary" Dan and Eric then began to slam the shutters as I entered the Cabin. We continued the chant, and all but one of the campers hid in their bunks. We continued the chant, and one of the campers in complete fear yelled "shut up!" Before I could belt out another "Wheelchair Mary", this one terrified camper, Mike Delicato [aka"Deli"], Jumped off his top bunk, put me in a headlock and made me swear I would stop chanting "Wheelchair Mary". At first I was laughing, but, when I tried to get out of the headlock, Deli wouldn't budge! I finally had to swear I would stop chanting before Deli would let me go!

To this date, whenever I think of that story --- I always remember Deli, and how he reacted to the story! .......... Classic!!!!!

Ping Pong Dumb Ass

Reading bamf's post about the camper that got kicked out of camp for drinking beer reminded me of something that happened to me during one of the plaque competitions. Not because it had to do with beer or getting kicked out, but because he mentioned being a child of senior staff. See my Dad was a director of one of the units. A lot of people thought that if you were a child of someone on staff you got special privileges. Some kids, who in this post shall remain nameless, did receive a little bump from their respective parents from time to time. It was different for me and my brother.

We were expected to help counselors. If there was work to do we were involved (from before work week). If I was caught doing something against the rules (which was a LOT) I got double the punishment. I am lucky that I was never kicked out. Because you know, if the rest of the senior staff had caught me or my bro doing anything like a banishable offense, we would have been gone in seconds. There were some perks though. The main one for me was that I got to go to camp for free. We were not wealthy enough for me or my brother to go to camp unless my parents worked there so that was ok.

A select few counselors used to treat me a little differently, though. They were not keen enough to figure out that I wasn't getting any special treatment. One of these people was named Matt. He was the counselor that threw something like salt or hot sauce in someone's eyes in tent 1 while they were sleeping. Actually, I think it was another counselor. Maybe some of you remember this winner. Anyway, this guy would give me crap all the time about plaque. He would whisper "it's fixed" every time I would walk by him and he was with someone who could hear. This happen to be the summer that my plaque team was in last place and we had a chance to win something during one of the multiple events. I think it was tennis, ping pong and there was a staring contest or some type of arm wrestling and some other things going on.

So, I elected to play ping pong because I like ping pong and no one else wanted to do it. I won the first match and in the second match, Matt the counselor was the "referee". Right from the first serve, Matt started to taunt me. He would say stuff like "your father can't fix this" and "you suck" and he mentioned a girl that had dumped me the week before. The guy she dumped me for was standing there watching, too. Matt also would say "miss it" every single time I would hit the ball. It was really humiliating for a counselor to do that to me. It was like being back in my neighborhood, hehe.

So, he kept talking to me the entire match, over and over. It was so bad that the kid that I was playing actually told him to stop and he was winning. Little did he know, my Dad actually took me aside at the beginning of the session and told me that he had to let my team be crappy because some of the counselors had complained that he was trying to stack it. I understood but my Dad is one of the fairest people I know and I could see that he was hurt by the whole thing because he would never try to set up his son's team. It just went against his morals.

In the end, I lost the match and Matt, the ping pong dumb ass won that round. He is one of those people that never should have been a counselor. He was so mean for some reason and so stupid that he could have caused a lessor kid some serious damage. But I fought back, in my own way, on the field. The next session, I was plaque captain and my team won (even with the disadvantage that my Dad was forced to work in). So, Matt B., you jerk, I hope you had a good time picking on a 14 year old kid when you were like 20, too bad that kid didn't flinch.

Ah. I'm glad I got that out.

Wine Coolers Anyone?

Wine coolers at Jellystone Park? As Forest Gump would say: "That's all I got to say about that!"

The Idiot Archers.

Ok, here is one for the ages but I caution anyone reading this post, this act I do NOT recommend, in fact, DON'T EVER DO THIS!

While we (in my opinion) were some of the best counselors that camp has ever seen, we did partake in some seriously questionable activity. Nothing that would endanger campers, however.

One night after some light partying out in the pits, a couple of us roamed out to the archery field. It was very late, maybe 1 or 2 am. We somehow got in to the archery shed and decided to take a little night time practice. We were aiming at targets for a while but eventually, they weren't enough of a challenge.

There was a small archery shed made of wood with a ceiling and benches. The walls were open on 3 sides and one side completely so you could walk in and sit down to get out of the sun. Someone said, "let's shoot in to the woods," "no way, that would be stupid, dude, we might hit something or someone, who knows what's out in those woods." Suddenly, someone, and I don't remember who, pointed his bow straight up in the air, let his bowstring snap and then yelled "RUN!"

So, we all dashed under the protection of the archery shed and waited. The arrow came down with a "ssssssss - THUD." All four of us let out our breath. After about a minute or so of processing the situation our brains finally came back online and we looked at each other and without saying a word, slowly walked out in to the field. This time, we were all going to do it.

Someone counted "1" everyone raised their bows to the night sky, "2" we all pulled back on the bowstrings, "3" everyone let go of their arrows and ran under the archery shed giggling and terrified at the same time. We waited in the silence that seemed to last hours for the first hint of an arrow returning to the ground..." Then, "sssss - THUD", one hit and another and then a third. For some reason, losing count of the arrows, I relaxed a bit. I started to walk toward the outside when the last arrow came down "ssssssss- THUD" two inches from my right foot.

We packed up all of the arrows and bows, locked the shed, and ran back to the farmhouse road, back to camp and to the middle of our unit. We sat on the swing that was there and said nothing for about 15 minutes. Until someone mumbled "well, I guess we won't do that again." He was absolutely right.

Back to the Beach

A tradition that I started my first year as a counselor entailed finding a beach sized umbrella for the day the Camp went to Horseneck Beach, RI. It began and ended with Friendly's. I recall one evening (I was a CIT at the time [when CIT could go out at night!]) when I was leaving the Friendly's parking lot with some other counselors. Someone stated "it sure would be cool to have one of those umbrellas for the beach tomorrow". With that said, I jumped out of the car, and grabbed one of the umbrellas for an outside dining table. Since this was the spur of the moment mission, I neglected to roll down my window. As a result, when I shut the passenger side door it wouldn't shut. In fear of getting caught (this is petty theft in most states! --eh (shrug)--) I quickly jumped out of the car, rolled down the window and placed the umbrella on my lap (with the base sticking out of the window). I brought the umbrella to my Cabin, and the next day, I was under the comfortable shade of a Friendly's Umbrella. Each year thereafter, I would obtain a new umbrella from Friendly's.

If I am not mistaken, I believe I saw Dr. Quacum one year under his own Friendly's Umbrella!

Camp Dances

Camp dances were always classic moments. I can still remember the smell of Agree shampoo and Acqua Net looming in the air. Heck, I even put on a little cologne [obsession --nothing but the best] for the ocassion ....., and truth be told .... it was the only time I actually would take a shower! [friggin' showers were ICE COLD!!!]

It was always the same old scene .... the Girls were on one side, and the guys on the other. No one would get up and dance until a slow song came on. For some odd reason, Stairway to Heaven and Freebird always ended up on the playlist. Why so odd? ... near the ending of both of these songs, the tempo picks and the songs start to really "rock"! The effect? .... no one knows whether or not to keep dancing slow or start shaking their rump! Thus, you get a lot of couples slow dancing FAST! [I think that's an oxymoron!] and everyone looks the fool! --


....... and she's buy-yi-ying ....... the stair-hair-way-ee to heh-ven ......

HOW TO GET OUT OF GOING TO CHAPEL

...... I'm not telling .... unless the NURSE Quacumquasit and the reluctant CABIN BOY apologize for their recent rude comments about my creative and skillful invention ...... " The Friendly's Bait and Switch" hmf!
---

(I added this to this post because it should be here too ;-P - rc)

From bamf... As counselor we got out of going to chapel by taking that day off. I still don't understand why some counselors preferred to take the "trip days" off instead of Sundays (?) ... Anywho, as a camper, me and my Tent Mates found a way to get on the roof the boys bathroom. By the time the counselors gave up looking for us ... chapel was over. Of course, for all I know, the counselors knew where we were the entire time ..... and it was THEIR way to get out of Chapel.

Raid the Ice Box

One harmless late night activity was heading over to the Dining Hall and sneaking into the kitchen for a midnight snack. Now this was not officially condoned, but as the director himself and several of his senior staffers were not above indulging their bulging waiste lines every now and again...and the nice thing was, that the director would invite any counselors that came by to partake. For them it was less sneaking in and more using their key to unlock the kitchen and slide that big door across....

What if you wanted a little snacky with out the power of the directorship behind you? Well, like most things at camp, the large sliding door to the kitchen wasnt all that well built. And you could squeeze yourself through the gap in the door and make your way into the kitchen and sample the leftover goodies. The walk in fridge and freezer were, of course unlocked, so access granted...bon apetite!

After a long fruitful span of undenied sustenance...a modifcation was made to the door to prevent such glutinous adventures from being undertaken...and, apart from a select few highly resourceful individuals, that was the end of Raiding the Ice Box.....

What of those seasoned few that still made off with forbidden fruit? That is a tale for another time....

Riverside Park

I recall many a trip to Riverside Park out in Agawam Mass. The trip took about 2 hours, and I recall blasting soemone's boombox and listening to the sounds of Bell Biv Devoe, Bobby Brown, New Order and Living Colour. Of course, the back seats were reserved for Dan, Eric and myself. Why? THE FOOD WAS BACK THERE!!!!!! I won't reveal many secrets with my posts, but, I will reveal this ........ Dan, Eric and myself discovered that the doors to the buses were always left unlocked when the camp went into the park. This meant that we were privy to all of the snacks, sandwiches and drinks. Thus, we didn't have to waste any of our money on food in the park.


*My next post will provide you with inside information on where to stand to see into the Senior Unit Girl's bathroom! (Just kidding!!!)

Sneaking Out Without Me?

Now, as Dr. Q has reminded me as of late, I used to let my campers bend (and occasionally completely smash) some of the written and unwritten rules. I was a trouble maker myself when I was a camper, too. And everywhere else for that matter. Camp was such a positive and rewarding experience for me that I think it might have saved me from some serious problems in regular life, even jail time maybe.

That being said, I used to get some really hyper and attitude ridden kids. I sometimes resented the fact that I (and Corky and Eric) were given this lot by a director who was completely wrong about a great many things, the biggest being my attitude and how much I cared about the camp and my campers. Don't get me wrong, I am not complaining. I wouldn't change a thing if I could do it all over again. But, I always wondered why they bunched these kids up with either one of us, or spread them out between the three of us, every year. In fact, our director would joke about it in meetings. Maybe he thought we could handle it or maybe, as I think, he was trying to create a tough situation for us. Despite this, every single one of my kids had a good time, I never had a complaint and in fact, my campers' parents requested me a number of times. I think I did an OK job at getting some of these "trouble makers" to feel good about themselves. Isn't that the point?

So, there I was, on a Saturday night, with my 8 12-13 year-olds and the movie room above the camp store reserved. It was toward the end of the session and these kids had been talking about "sneaking out" on movie night the entire week. Corky and I had caught them a number of times that week making feeble attempts to get to the girls side of the junior unit. So they were determined. My junior counselor and I were planning to stay awake and stop them, but we were both tired from going out a bit too late the previous Friday, and running around the entire day during one of those "all camp" games.

When we finally got in to the movie room, I was ready to sleep. So I positioned myself in front of the doorway so they would have to go over me to get out. We put the first movie on and they watched quietly and ate pizza. Then the second movie, and they all started to "fake" falling asleep. By this time, my jr. counselor was already snoring so it was up to me. Suffice to say, I fell asleep about 15 minutes in to the second movie. So you can picture it: I look up, tired, eyes getting heavy and everyone is "asleep" snug in their sleeping bags. In, what seemed like a blink of an eye, they are all quietly getting out of their sleeping bags and sneaking toward the door.

I muttered (half under my breath) "guys, go back to sleep, there's no way..." They scurried back in to their places, giggling. A few more minutes, I was asleep again. I opened my eyes and they were again up and making their way toward the door. I mumble "seriously, you are not going anywhere." Again, they scrambled to their sleeping bags. The next time I woke up and I could hear them whispering, "OK", "I think he's out." Someone gets up and makes for the door, this time I let him get through the doorway, down the little hallway and to the creaky staircase. I can hear him at the bottom, "ok, c'mon" whispering loud enough so that everyone can hear. I let the rest of them get up, make it toward the door and down to the bottom of the stairway. Then I got up, followed the last kid down to the bottom of the stairs and just as they were opening the screen door to go out in to the night, I snarled, "What, sneaking out without me?"

They squeaked and fumbled around and then tried to run up the stairs past me, but I blocked their way. I said to all of them "I guess you guys are going to sneak out tonight, no matter what?" They explained that every other cabin did it, and it was their last chance for the summer, and maybe their entire lives... blah, blah, blah. So finally, I said to myself, well, if they are going to go out no matter what, I might as well go with them to supervise. At the time it might well have been a stupid decision, but I was tired and I couldn't think of another way of stopping them.

So, I said, "OK, let's go." I was met with "really?!" "Can WE?!". I said no, but if you are giving me no choice then I might was well go with you. They had a flashlight and some bug spray with them, so I sprayed everyone down and off we went. We first walked to the senior unit since it was the closest area and snuck around in the shadows quietly. They whispered as we let some counselors walk by us. We hit as they talked and passed us without even noticing us. We then made our way up the road, passed the basketball court, to the senior field where I suspected some errant seniors might be gathered. We crept up to them, then I whispered,"1, 2, 3... GO!" and we charged the unsuspecting seniors yelling and jumping around like monkeys waving the flashlight. The seniors scattered like little woodland animals completely unaware of who we were. We laughed so hard that we couldn't stop. I almost couldn't breath I was laughing so hard.

We then made our way through the woods by the midget unit director's house, down the hill into the junior unit. I let them sneak around the unit while I watched. Luckily, no one was up. Then we actually passed Bascom, where, these kids were not allowed to go. I let them in there, we played a little Racer Ball, then to the water front, the boat house, up the water front steps and in to the dining hall. There we grabbed some snacks from the kitchen (cupcakes that were out on the counter) and then back up the steps to the movie room. They were so excited, they stayed up and talked about everything we did, laughing, joking, high-fiving... they even woke up our jr. counselor who had been quietly snoozing. Everyone finally dozed off at about 5am. We would have missed flagpole if it wasn't for the fact that we were already so close.

Now, Mark, my wonderfully unscrupulous director, strolled up to me as we were making our way in to the dining hall and smirked. He said, "I heard a rumor that there was a junior cabin sneaking around last night, know anything about that?" Boldly (and maybe not so smartly) I said, "yup, that was us." He said, "um, US?" I explained to him the situation and how I thought they were going to sneak out no matter what and he laughed it off and said, "well, you did the right thing I guess." I responded with "and it's the most fun these kids have had all session, totally worth it." I don't know if he respected my honesty or if he just forgot, but I fully expected him to turn us in, though it never happened.

I don't know if sneaking out in this fashion would have been considered breaking the rules or not. I guess it probably would have, but at the same time, I feel that it was better than any of the alternatives and maybe even something that these kids would never forget. I mean, who was I to stop them from doing this? They would have gone with or without me. I am proud that I chose to do what I did and that I pulled it off with no major problems. They talked about scaring the hell out of a bunch of seniors for the rest of the session. I didn't have any trouble from that day until the end of the session. They even cleaned the entire cabin that Monday, without me even asking any of them. It was awesome. I wonder if those kids, wherever they are, remember that night. I know I always will. It is one of the best memories I have of that camp and frankly, my entire life.

Pajama Breakfast

Ding. ding. ding ding ding ding ding...ding ding ding ding ding ding ding....That's right, its Pajama Breakfast! Come as you are, its Pajama Breakfast! We've let you sleep an EXTRA hour!! Dont get dressed, come as you are....PAJAMA BREAKFAST ding....

Now, how stupid are we supposed to be? First bell at what? 7? Second at 8? Meaning get your tired butt to flagpole. So, if they just skip the 7am bell, how is that giving us another hour to sleep?

And what was going on behind the scenes? What was the real reason behind an "extra" hour of sleep? Was that the morning after a Sr. Staff Bender? A late night ice box raid? Someone sabotaging Polar Bear Swim? Or a private showing of the Crazy Dan Saga the night before??

In any event, I just downloaded the "Pajama Breakfast" ring tone...DING!

destructive fun

For some reason, our little group of friends used to get most of the troubled campers to deal with... I am not sure why. Maybe it was our skill, maybe it was our intelligence, maybe it was the fact that the director of the camp didn't like us very much. Sometimes this used to happen away from our own campers as well. For instance, one day on the water front I was confronted by the then water front director, Anne. She told me that there was a kid that no one wanted to take because he was "crazy." Anyway, I used to think that most of the time, the kids who were ignored the most because of their attitudes were the ones that needed the most attention so I was pissed off that she took that attitude. I went over to him and asked him what he would like to do for his free period. He just kind of looked at me with these angry eyes. I am not sure he even meant to make the face he was making.

He was a very troubled kid. One time, he had gotten so out of control, he had climbed up a tree and refused to come down, but that is another story. Since we were on the water front, I figured we would try a canoe or a play-ack or maybe even a sailboat. But he wouldn't get on any of them and I was starting to think by his mood that it might be a good idea to keep him away from oars or other types of large wooden objects, like a dagger board.

Finally, I sat down on a paddle boat. His eyes popped up and his expression changed. He looked at me like I had just opened a container of his favorite food. I thought, hey, yes! A paddle boat, it would be easy to do, burn off some energy and completely harmless. Let's go!

As we got in the boat I steered for a little while and kicked along with my new friend. He was kicking like crazy, in fact, after a bit, I stopped kicking almost altogether and he was propelling the boat decently. He kept trying to steer but I stopped him for fear that we might end up in the weeds or something. But after a bit, I let him steer.

He had the time of his life. I never saw this little "crazy" boy more happy. However, after a while, I noticed that he was steering really close to the sailboats. In fact, he was maneuvering directly toward one that happened to have our friendly water front director in it. I thought that he was going to turn, but he never did and we smashed right in to the little sunfish on the broadside. It didn't do any damage and just startled the director and her passenger, but that boy enjoyed every minute of it.

Now, I am glad that I let that kid do that. It might not have been appropriate completely, but it was good for two reasons. One, because he was a camper, and campers come first and two because no one really gave him a chance to do anything because of his gnarly attitude. I really hoped it made a difference to his experience at camp and I think it did. As for myself, I enjoyed watching him paddle as hard as he could and tire himself out. I think he was totally chill at dinner that night, too for once.

Sing Jingle Bells

One evening, in the movie room, we opted to watch a Slasher Flick [I believe titled "The Act of Vengance]. Needless to say, not appropriate .... well, for anyone. We had no idea [accept for the Rated "R" label, the summary on the back, and the strong advisory warning on front of the tape cover] how bad the movie was until it was on. If I recall, the bad guy, wearing a hockey mask and jump suit, would make his victims sing "Jingle Bells" as he victimized them. Luckily, no campers were about, and the movie "Lucas" was quickly put on. I've never re-watched that movie, but, every now and then .... for some reason around Christmas Time, a small smirk comes over my face when I hear the song Jingle Bells. TAKE MY ADVICE ... DO NOT RUN OUT AND RENT THIS MOVIE BASED UPON THIS POST!!!!!!!!!!!

The Three Lovelies...

I was thinking back to one night where two of my friends and I went to the local Friendly's to get some late night snacks. We met three local girls and decided to hang out with them in the parking lot for a little while until the place started to close. As cars were emptying on Route 20, we somehow convinced them to ride with us back to camp.

When we got to camp, however, we had other ideas. They weren't as friendly any more and we started to get the impression that they weren't to happy that we dragged them all the way out to the woods where there were hardly any lights and no one around. It must have been fairly confusing for them to say the least. So, in "not so responsible fashion," we left them there to go in to camp for "5 minutes" explaining that we would be right back. However, we left for about a half-an-hour and hoped that they walked home or something. However, they didn't leave despite the dark and unfamiliar camp entrance.

Instead, they started to yell in to the darkness for us to come pick them up. They only knew our first names, but it was easy for someone to hear them from the farmhouse. There was one person, an old water front director, who heard their annoyed yelps. She ventured out to find the three strangers, standing in complete darkness. They explained the situation to her which prompted her to storm in to camp in a furious wrath looking for us.

We heard our names summoned over the announcement system, "... please go to the farmhouse, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, dong." Realizing our own stupidity, we rushed toward the midget unit and the road. On the way down the main road, the three of us were nervously joking back and forth about what we were going to do when we got to the camp entrance. By this time, the one light at the entrance had popped on, and we could see the three girls and the angry water front director standing there in the middle of the light. As I walked in to the clearing, I felt strangely alone. I turned to see where my two friends were and they had elected to stay in the darkness just outside the street light. I could hear them laughing as I turned to face the four angry people. I must have looked like a forth grader pushed on stage during a school play.

When I was finished calming the water front director down, I drove the three girls home and apologized. It was very humbling to say the least. The next day, during dinner, our camp director made an announcement that there were "Three Lovelies" found out at the entrance and explained that this kind of behavior was not in anyone's best interest to repeat.

Racer Ball

Racer ball was a game played at Bascom lounge. To play you needed a pool table, pool balls, a "set of your own balls" [sorry ladies] and two or more players. The object of the game? .... to see who could put more pool balls in their opponents pool table pockets. In other words, one or more player would stand on opposite sides of the pool table. Each player would have an equal amount of pool balls. At the count of three the players would scream "raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaacerballllllllllllllllllllllllll!" and proceed to roll their pool balls [as fast as they could] toward their opponent's side ---in hopes of putting all of their pool balls in their opponent's sides pockets. Sound like fun? YOU BET!!!!!

I recall one evening a match of two-on-two Racer Ball began. Not too sure the names of the players, but, withOUT much imagination one could figure it out. The game began, and pool balls "went a flying" .... for whatever reason all of the players were hysterically laughing (another intregal component to the game). Not uncommon to the competitive edge and spirit of the game, one of the balls got airborn. Unfortunately, the ball flew right into one of the window panes of the "lodge". ... thus, smashing it to bits! ....... There was a two-second pause ..... and then .... again ----hysterical laughter. ---


Ok, Ok, I've to ask ---- "Who's up for a little game of raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaacerball!!!!!"

A Bascom Blunder

One night in Bascom, we were sitting on the old grungy chairs out on the porch, smoking cigars and having our usual nightly conversation about the camp and other things. It was particularly late and everyone was really tired.

That and the fact that we had all just returned from the "Pits," and we were pretty drunk. I think it was one of the days before camp started, during work-week. The conversation was good for about an hour but then it got a little sparse and we were all just, sort-of, sitting there, watching the little waves on the lake bump a buoy on the T-dock. Before I knew it, I dozed off for a minute.

When I woke up, the chair next to me was on fire and my friend in it was asleep. I looked around for a fire extinguisher, but back in the day, there were none of those around readily. So, I pulled my sleeve over my hand and patted the fire out. It wasn't that big, just a couple of flames on the side of an old easy chair, but I put that fire out. I saved Bascom.

The first dis (follow up)

Ok, I was thinking about the dis sign. I want to explain it for those who don't know what it is...

It's a game you can play anywhere at any time. Basically, it's a hand signal. You can make the "OK" sign or point to something (most commonly the palm of your opposite hand) and if someone looks at it, then they lose (dissed). It's very silly, but it catches on after a while and you find yourself ignoring people when they call your name because you don't want to get dissed.

The funny part of playing this game is that some people just don't get it. Case in point, there were a small number of senior staff (at our camp) that noticed people playing and surprisingly took offense to it. Some even described it as "gang signals" or "anti-social behavior." When, in fact, it was a very healthy, social behavior, that many times, in my experience, broke tension with campers and counselors alike. It's too bad those people didn't want to join in the fun. I guess they should have just asked someone what it was about. It could get annoying from time to time, but all in all is a fun game that still sparks some chuckles even after a long time has passed.

So, check out my post in the link below for your "first dis" and teach it to your friends.

Ok, you know I had to...

Bamf

Remember how we obtained the BAMF at Riverside? I recall learning how to get free games from an "expert skeeballer" -who allegedly had skeeball at his/her home. Free games equaled lots of tickets. Lots of tickets equaled obtaining the BAMF! I think some of the campers even gave us free store to take a turn using the BAMF!

Ok, you know I had to...

Here it is, the first dis... you love it!

The First Post...

Ok, this is the first post. I know it's really lame... blah, blah, blah... but I'm tired from fiddling with the Blogger templates. Thus, it's the beginning of the Bascom Lodge blog. Hopefully, we wont offend too many people.