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?"
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Monday, September 17, 2007
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.
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!!!!!
To this date, whenever I think of that story --- I always remember Deli, and how he reacted to the story! .......... Classic!!!!!
Sunday, September 16, 2007
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.
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.
Friday, September 14, 2007
Wine Coolers Anyone?
Wine coolers at Jellystone Park? As Forest Gump would say: "That's all I got to say about that!"
Thursday, September 13, 2007
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.
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!
If I am not mistaken, I believe I saw Dr. Quacum one year under his own Friendly's Umbrella!
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