 |
Pony: Summer Camp Memories
8.5.2005
When I was a kid I went to posh camps. I am not sure why, but it was the '80s, and for a few reasons I won't delve into, there seemed to be more money to dress your children in Polo and Esprit and send them to camps with Olympic-sized swimming pools and waterskiing lessons.
I remember the camp I went to in California where at the end of our first week, a sassy girl in my age group cussed out her boyfriend on our front porch, saying: "I frenched your fucking face off!" I was mystified and alarmed. We were11 years old. By the end of the summer i knew how to apply eyeliner, roll my eyes with disdain, and shave my legs by propping them on the sink ledge.
I always thought I was having a good time. I am a social creature, after all. But I remember that there would be one point in every summer where I would just lose it with the constant chatter emanating from stinky bunkbeds and the expectation to remain engaged. I would cry out of the blue - baffling, frustrated tears that I could not explain. I told people I was not feeling well.
Then I would go to the nurse's office and nap for four hours in clean white sheets with a kind, quiet adult in next room. I would wake up refreshed to cookies and gingerale.
I think if I have a kid, I will send them to a wilderness/scout camp. Whereas I learned how to shave my legs and bat my eyelashes at boys, my child will learn useful stuff, like building fires and lean-to's. that is what I think.
