Summer Camp

  • Posted by a hidden member.
    Log in to view his profile

    Jul 06, 2013 1:54 PM GMT
    We've all probably done this about this time of our summers as youth. Any stories?


    http://mom.me/parenting/8028-10-things-your-camp-counselor-wont-tell-you/
  • rafiki87

    Posts: 331

    Jul 06, 2013 10:50 PM GMT
    Great, way to scare me you guys... Running a summer camp is my job at the moment.
  • Posted by a hidden member.
    Log in to view his profile

    Jul 07, 2013 3:06 AM GMT
    I've actually written an essay about my first boys summer camp in 1957, but at 7,200 words it's too long for here, except in installments.

    I can confirm there was skinny dipping, but that was routine back then and out in the open, planned & approved, campers & counselors together. But I didn't see the other negative things mentioned in the linked article above, I guess partly because it was boys only, no girls. And while we might play pranks on each other, I don't recall any bullying or actual meanness, maybe a few fights that flared-up.

    I really enjoyed summer camp, looked forward to it, and regretted when it ended each season. So much so that 20 years after my last camp, the place long closed, I drove 80 miles to visit the abandoned site. And walked all around, sad at how little remained of it, like a lost civilization, but still able to identify things, from the foundation outlines and other markers. Yeah, I loved summer camp.
  • Posted by a hidden member.
    Log in to view his profile

    Jul 07, 2013 3:41 AM GMT
    I did mostly boy scout camps, but I think a few others independent of that. I don't remember too much of it, but most memorable was the warm fresh donuts every morning made by the camp cooks. That got me started off on a lifelong battle over sweets. And of course skinny dipping, but that was pretty much the rule everywhere. One would never wear anything at the local, out in the sticks, swimming hole. And plenty of pranks, not only on each other, but camp staff too. Some were pretty elaborate and some not much more than fart and giggle.
  • Posted by a hidden member.
    Log in to view his profile

    Jul 07, 2013 3:47 AM GMT
    freedomisntfree saidI did mostly boy scouts, but I think a few others independent of that. I don't remember too much of it, but most memorable was the warm fresh donuts every morning made by the camp cooks. That got me started off on a lifelong battle over sweets. And of course skinny dipping, but that was pretty much the rule everywhere. One would never wear anything at the local, out in the sticks, swimming hole. And plenty of pranks, not only on each other, but camp staff too. Some were pretty elaborate and some not much more than fart and giggle.

    You might enjoy my camp essay, since it features a 1957 Chrysler Imperial.
  • Posted by a hidden member.
    Log in to view his profile

    Jul 07, 2013 3:53 AM GMT
    ARMSTRONG_303BOS.jpg

    Something happened to me at Band Camp.. icon_cry.gif
  • Posted by a hidden member.
    Log in to view his profile

    Jul 07, 2013 3:59 AM GMT
    I helped run a boy scout camp for several years. The bad behavior was pretty well controlled. There were a couple of instances of romantic interludes here and there and many of the staff drank on their night off. I never heard of anything more inappropriate than that.
  • Posted by a hidden member.
    Log in to view his profile

    Jul 07, 2013 4:04 AM GMT
    Anocxu saidARMSTRONG_303BOS.jpg

    Something happened to me at Band Camp.. icon_cry.gif

    If it involved a piccolo I probably don't want to know. icon_eek.gif
  • Posted by a hidden member.
    Log in to view his profile

    Jul 07, 2013 4:17 AM GMT
    ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^
    You know me and my obsession for anything..'Shiny'..
  • Posted by a hidden member.
    Log in to view his profile

    Jul 07, 2013 4:20 AM GMT
    ART_DECO said
    freedomisntfree saidI did mostly boy scouts, but I think a few others independent of that. I don't remember too much of it, but most memorable was the warm fresh donuts every morning made by the camp cooks. That got me started off on a lifelong battle over sweets. And of course skinny dipping, but that was pretty much the rule everywhere. One would never wear anything at the local, out in the sticks, swimming hole. And plenty of pranks, not only on each other, but camp staff too. Some were pretty elaborate and some not much more than fart and giggle.

    You might enjoy my camp essay, since it features a 1957 Chrysler Imperial.


    Can you post it, and if needed, in several parts. I don't know what the character limit is per post.
  • Posted by a hidden member.
    Log in to view his profile

    Jul 07, 2013 2:52 PM GMT
    freedomisntfree said
    Can you post it, and if needed, in several parts. I don't know what the character limit is per post.

    Nope, too long and boring, almost anthropological in its focus. And I can't send it to you via RJ email, which only accepts image attachments.
  • Posted by a hidden member.
    Log in to view his profile

    Jul 07, 2013 3:43 PM GMT
    But here's a little excerpt, describing my first ride to summer camp in 1957, with a neighbor boy who was also going to camp, along with his mother.


    Finally the big day arrived, a warm and sunny Saturday, in mid-July I think, not long after my eighth birthday. We all left in my Mother's new car, a huge Chrysler Imperial extravagance, sprouting towering rear fins adorned with spaceship tail lights. The two mothers rode in front, I and my companion exiled as always to the cavernous back seat.

    In those days before seat belts, my mother would remind me how safety conscious she was, by always banning me from the front seat to the back, where theoretically I would bounce around harmlessly in a crash. And the very mass of the behemoth would protect us all anyway, plowing aside any lesser vehicle foolish enough to stray into our unstoppable path. Or so the popular wisdom of the day held.

    This camp was actually only about 80 driving miles away, but over mostly rural 2-lane roads, taking hours and giving me the impression we were being marooned in a distant wilderness. At one point we stopped at some forlorn and ramshackle roadside stand, to eat hot dogs in its dusty, unpaved parking lot.

    People who now bemoan the explosion of national fast-food chains, that came roughly 10 years after our stop that day, have obviously never eaten at the crude atrocities they replaced. Without even the diversion of a free kid's toy to offset the ordeal, we resumed our purgatory of endless country roads.

    Still, I took no small pleasure from merely riding inside that enormous 4-wheeled imitation of a rocket ship, even while watching the ominous scenery becoming less populated by the mile. Every American boy knew an important goal in life was to be always riding around in that year's latest model car, the bigger the better. So how could I dare be discontented, cruising in just about the newest and biggest there was?
  • Posted by a hidden member.
    Log in to view his profile

    Jul 08, 2013 7:01 AM GMT
    ART_DECO saidBut here's a little excerpt, describing my first ride to summer camp in 1957, with a neighbor boy who was also going to camp, along with his mother.


    Finally the big day arrived, a warm and sunny Saturday, in mid-July I think, not long after my eighth birthday. We all left in my Mother's new car, a huge Chrysler Imperial extravagance, sprouting towering rear fins adorned with spaceship tail lights. The two mothers rode in front, I and my companion exiled as always to the cavernous back seat.

    In those days before seat belts, my mother would remind me how safety conscious she was, by always banning me from the front seat to the back, where theoretically I would bounce around harmlessly in a crash. And the very mass of the behemoth would protect us all anyway, plowing aside any lesser vehicle foolish enough to stray into our unstoppable path. Or so the popular wisdom of the day held.

    This camp was actually only about 80 driving miles away, but over mostly rural 2-lane roads, taking hours and giving me the impression we were being marooned in a distant wilderness. At one point we stopped at some forlorn and ramshackle roadside stand, to eat hot dogs in its dusty, unpaved parking lot.

    People who now bemoan the explosion of national fast-food chains, that came roughly 10 years after our stop that day, have obviously never eaten at the crude atrocities they replaced. Without even the diversion of a free kid's toy to offset the ordeal, we resumed our purgatory of endless country roads.

    Still, I took no small pleasure from merely riding inside that enormous 4-wheeled imitation of a rocket ship, even while watching the ominous scenery becoming less populated by the mile. Every American boy knew an important goal in life was to be always riding around in that year's latest model car, the bigger the better. So how could I dare be discontented, cruising in just about the newest and biggest there was?


    I didn't get a chance to read this earlier due to a little distraction .

    I've spent weeks doing all sorts of stuff to the 63 getting it ready for the POCI Nationals next week. Spent yesterday and today doing my once a year really thorough detail including undercarriage. I took it up to nearby lake to take some glamour shots of it, and on the way back, hit a deer, It came out of heavy brush, up a gully and over a guardrail. I tried to swerve behind it, but no, it turns around and comes back. Hit it hard with the right front.

    All of last week was like this with one thing after another.
  • Posted by a hidden member.
    Log in to view his profile

    Jul 08, 2013 7:42 PM GMT
    freedomisntfree said
    I've spent weeks doing all sorts of stuff to the 63 getting it ready for the POCI Nationals next week. Spent yesterday and today doing my once a year really thorough detail including undercarriage. I took it up to nearby lake to take some glamour shots of it, and on the way back, hit a deer, It came out of heavy brush, up a gully and over a guardrail. I tried to swerve behind it, but no, it turns around and comes back. Hit it hard with the right front.

    All of last week was like this with one thing after another.

    Sorry to hear the Pontiac took a hit. And hope you fared OK yourself. What's the verdict? Modest damage or what?

    Many animals will instinctively retrace their steps when in danger, to their last safe location. Unfortunately that tactic doesn't always work for them in a modern world where the "predator" is a motor vehicle on a road.
  • Posted by a hidden member.
    Log in to view his profile

    Jul 08, 2013 8:01 PM GMT
    Aristoshark saidI sent my kids to a camp twice, both times disastrously.
    The first summer, the camp director had a near-fatal heart attack and I had to rush back from a trip to Toronto to bring them home mid-summer. The second time, the camp's money was embezzled by the director's secretary and they couldn't pay the food vendor, who then declined to extend credit. I had to rush back and pick them up again.

    The third year the kids declined to go to camp altogether. Can't blame them for that.

    Fortunately no such crises visited any of my summer camps, which as I said above, I loved as a kid. I think the closest thing was an outbreak of impetigo, a form of skin disease, that hit about 6 boys out of around 250 on site, but not me, and didn't cause the camp to shut down.

    Not surprising given our primitive living conditions, and aforementioned overnighting in the woods on ordinary blankets, breaking brush on long hikes, skinny-dipping in creeks, and basically roughing it like an "Outward Bound" experience.
  • Posted by a hidden member.
    Log in to view his profile

    Jul 08, 2013 11:17 PM GMT
    ART_DECO said
    freedomisntfree said
    I've spent weeks doing all sorts of stuff to the 63 getting it ready for the POCI Nationals next week. Spent yesterday and today doing my once a year really thorough detail including undercarriage. I took it up to nearby lake to take some glamour shots of it, and on the way back, hit a deer, It came out of heavy brush, up a gully and over a guardrail. I tried to swerve behind it, but no, it turns around and comes back. Hit it hard with the right front.

    All of last week was like this with one thing after another.

    Sorry to hear the Pontiac took a hit. And hope you fared OK yourself. What's the verdict? Modest damage or what?

    Many animals will instinctively retrace their steps when in danger, to their last safe location. Unfortunately that tactic doesn't always work for them in a modern world where the "predator" is a motor vehicle on a road.


    Holy SHIT $5,700 for this

    photo deerhit.jpg

    They can't get me in until the end of july so that pretty much fucks up my cruising summer. The shop gets in 4 to 5 deer strikes per week for estimates and says its generally $20,000 plus so I guess somehow ... be happy.