I give in...
A few weeks ago, I got drinks with a girl I have known since 1993. She had just gotten engaged, and I wanted to do something nice for her. In my book, getting margaritas equals "nice."
This girl is a camp friend. I hadn't hung out with her in about eight years, but it didn't really matter. When we met up we talked like the last time we had seen each was more recent than 1998.
That's the great thing about camp friends--they're easy to catch up with. Two months a year at the same camp for six years ends up feeling like way more than just one year of your life. Those who have gone to camp know those few months a year are more intense than the other 10. More happens, you learn more and years later you remember more from them.
So that got me thinking. It's February. It's cold. It's still dark when I wake up. I have too much work. So I miss camp.
There, I said it.
Growing up, my camp friends and I didn't have IM or My Space to communicate multiple times a day. We wrote letters to each other instead. Sometimes we made phone calls. We attended each other's bar/bat mitzvahs in places as remote as Hyde Park, Cincinnati and Nashville.
Now all these years later, and with IM, Facebook and Friendster at my disposal, nary a day goes by that I don't "talk" with at least one of my camp friends. Or that at least one of them gets engaged. (Congrats, Ben!)
You know the "Everything I Needed to Know in Life I Learned in Kindergarten" poster? That's bull. I learned everything I needed to know in life at camp. I learned how to plan a program for dozens of people in little or no time with few materials. I learned how to relax. How to deal with overseers and peers with whom I don't see eye to eye. How to sing and act. How to run a radio station. How to build a bonfire.
Not to mention how to sumo wrestle in sleeping bags on top of a steep hill. How to bring back American Gladiators using water balloons, broomsticks and a 30-foot climbing wall. All sorts of important things.
One of the most rewarding experiences I have ever had was working as a camp counselor and unit head with dozens of wonderful kids. (Many of the "kids" are now "adults," which means that when I ask them what they've been up to I don't really want an answer, whereas in the past I did.)
And I know I've been lucky. Not everyone has had as good an experience as I've had. Some years you get obnxious kids or co-workers that are not capable of taking care of themselves, let alone other human beings. But even the craziest bunks of campers turned out to be fun and respectful in the times it mattered the most.
One of the things that struck me about being a counselor was that for some reason, most all of the campers I worked with thought I was a badass when I was camper just because I knew how to have fun at camp. They never believed me when I told them that I attended pretty much every activity and rarely flouted authority.
There were plenty of examples where my age group did "bad" things--most of which involved breaking of windows and making fun of other people to the extent that they never came back to camp--but somehow I was never in the middle of these things. I missed strip poker tournaments and some sneaking out. Didn't even hear about a few water fights. Was oblivious to some eisodes of stealing food from the dining hall and food fights. Where was I?
(I think I was trying to figure out girls. Boy, was that a waste of time.)
I was a part of a bunk raid or two and some major water fights. I got the game-winning hit in our biggest softball game over the six summers. I made at least three kids cry. So I had my fun, even if I wasn't a real badass.
If I was lacking at all as a camper, I did make up for it as a counselor. I enacted the "if I don't know about it, it didn't happen" policy. Some campers would, for some dumb reason, ask if they could start a food fight or sneak out at night. I would always answer "no." But if they were clever enough to do these things without asking--and if they were clever enough to ensure that I didn't find out about it--I was secretly (or maybe not so secretly) happy they did them.
(That's the other thing about pranks. If they're not clever, they're not worth doing. "Cupping" or "canoeing" a cabin is fine, but it's been done. Stealing boats, golf carts, banners, or whatever else that can be stolen has been stolen numerous times, so there's no creativity in that. I never saw a good cabin switch in my day (where a guy's bunk and girl's bunk switch beds in the middle of the night) nor have I seen anything involving animals or locals or both.)
The kids that followed that no-asking rule in order to get their first kiss are now going off to college. The kids who shared bunks with me for six summers are now walking down the aisle.
I bet they miss camp, too.
In the future I'm sure there will be other camp-related posts, especially since this one is so vague and not really filled with specific stories...not like I can remember them, anyway. And there's like a million shout outs that I want to give and tales I want to tell even though I have no idea who, if anyone, actually reads this blog.
This girl is a camp friend. I hadn't hung out with her in about eight years, but it didn't really matter. When we met up we talked like the last time we had seen each was more recent than 1998.
That's the great thing about camp friends--they're easy to catch up with. Two months a year at the same camp for six years ends up feeling like way more than just one year of your life. Those who have gone to camp know those few months a year are more intense than the other 10. More happens, you learn more and years later you remember more from them.
So that got me thinking. It's February. It's cold. It's still dark when I wake up. I have too much work. So I miss camp.
There, I said it.
Growing up, my camp friends and I didn't have IM or My Space to communicate multiple times a day. We wrote letters to each other instead. Sometimes we made phone calls. We attended each other's bar/bat mitzvahs in places as remote as Hyde Park, Cincinnati and Nashville.
Now all these years later, and with IM, Facebook and Friendster at my disposal, nary a day goes by that I don't "talk" with at least one of my camp friends. Or that at least one of them gets engaged. (Congrats, Ben!)
You know the "Everything I Needed to Know in Life I Learned in Kindergarten" poster? That's bull. I learned everything I needed to know in life at camp. I learned how to plan a program for dozens of people in little or no time with few materials. I learned how to relax. How to deal with overseers and peers with whom I don't see eye to eye. How to sing and act. How to run a radio station. How to build a bonfire.
Not to mention how to sumo wrestle in sleeping bags on top of a steep hill. How to bring back American Gladiators using water balloons, broomsticks and a 30-foot climbing wall. All sorts of important things.
One of the most rewarding experiences I have ever had was working as a camp counselor and unit head with dozens of wonderful kids. (Many of the "kids" are now "adults," which means that when I ask them what they've been up to I don't really want an answer, whereas in the past I did.)
And I know I've been lucky. Not everyone has had as good an experience as I've had. Some years you get obnxious kids or co-workers that are not capable of taking care of themselves, let alone other human beings. But even the craziest bunks of campers turned out to be fun and respectful in the times it mattered the most.
One of the things that struck me about being a counselor was that for some reason, most all of the campers I worked with thought I was a badass when I was camper just because I knew how to have fun at camp. They never believed me when I told them that I attended pretty much every activity and rarely flouted authority.
There were plenty of examples where my age group did "bad" things--most of which involved breaking of windows and making fun of other people to the extent that they never came back to camp--but somehow I was never in the middle of these things. I missed strip poker tournaments and some sneaking out. Didn't even hear about a few water fights. Was oblivious to some eisodes of stealing food from the dining hall and food fights. Where was I?
(I think I was trying to figure out girls. Boy, was that a waste of time.)
I was a part of a bunk raid or two and some major water fights. I got the game-winning hit in our biggest softball game over the six summers. I made at least three kids cry. So I had my fun, even if I wasn't a real badass.
If I was lacking at all as a camper, I did make up for it as a counselor. I enacted the "if I don't know about it, it didn't happen" policy. Some campers would, for some dumb reason, ask if they could start a food fight or sneak out at night. I would always answer "no." But if they were clever enough to do these things without asking--and if they were clever enough to ensure that I didn't find out about it--I was secretly (or maybe not so secretly) happy they did them.
(That's the other thing about pranks. If they're not clever, they're not worth doing. "Cupping" or "canoeing" a cabin is fine, but it's been done. Stealing boats, golf carts, banners, or whatever else that can be stolen has been stolen numerous times, so there's no creativity in that. I never saw a good cabin switch in my day (where a guy's bunk and girl's bunk switch beds in the middle of the night) nor have I seen anything involving animals or locals or both.)
The kids that followed that no-asking rule in order to get their first kiss are now going off to college. The kids who shared bunks with me for six summers are now walking down the aisle.
I bet they miss camp, too.
In the future I'm sure there will be other camp-related posts, especially since this one is so vague and not really filled with specific stories...not like I can remember them, anyway. And there's like a million shout outs that I want to give and tales I want to tell even though I have no idea who, if anyone, actually reads this blog.
posted by Gabe Roth | Wednesday, February 22, 2006
5 Comments:
no good pranks!? what about our wanted signs alll over camp and then we had to take them down becaue rabbi was afraid parents (it was yom leave) would htink that gabriel cass ross was really banned from idaho for gowing corn without a liscence, or for being a terrorist, or having a huggge ego. o how the list goes on...nachsh04...'you think we're bad now just wait till gesher 06'...better come visit us, its gonna rockkk...ps-we loved having our sneeking out 101 classes...rule 1? dont get caught. but the only super important one was to fill them in with gossip when they got back from the night. oooh, fun.
pps-i miss camp too. ppps-you should write an 'all i need to know i learned at Ramah', that would be way cool.
how about singing christmas carols at the national ramah coordinator's staff meeting? good times...
The prank the first "anonymous" commentator talked about was a good prank. Way better than switching the wooden plaques denoted the cabin numbers.
The Christmas carol prank was also creative and funny--and impossible to imitate or duplicate. Way to go.
I'm looking forward to hearing about what you guys got for next summer...
ben can make the post, but i can't. I got engaged too!
Gabe,
xmas prank was awsome. I still cant believe we pulled that off. People talk about the prank too much and not about when rabbi came down stairs and we were all so nervous and then rosner broke the silence. That was one of the best summers at camp. You were a great rosh and you were a bad ass.
Post a Comment
Links to this post:
Create a Link
<< Home