The Summer of Dave, Part 2

When I decided to change our plans for the summer (a third time) and go with the job offer from Pennsylvania, I somehow thought that being ready to move across the country in less than two weeks would be no big deal. I am a man, and gendered thus, I am not blessed with a very effective brain sometimes. Somehow, despite the incredible stress of it all, we got everything we own shipped, or packed into our two-door Honda Civic. This included our extremely unamused guinea pigs.

It took us four days, 2,500 miles, and many pee pee stops to make it from the West Coast to Scranton, PA. We stayed in a hotel that night, and drove the last two hours to the camp the next morning. Upon first glance, Camp Lohikan is a tremendously well equipped and expansive area of rolling hills and a beautiful private lake. After a few months there, I am confident that most people don’t even notice the gorgeous srurroundings.

I started working there in the middle of May, partaking in what is called Pre-Camp. This is when you are worked literally like a slave. Though there were no cracking whips, the patheticly exhausting 6 day work week, and pittance of pay made the dismally disgusting meals even more unappetizing. It didn’t help that the “provided” meals didn’t appear until the third week of this torture. It was obvious right away that I had made yet another bad decision in a lifetime of bad ones. My fiance, who had to endure all this with me, is the only brilliant decision I ever made, and she probably sees it in reverse. Can you blame her?

Anyway, the programs I was in charge of – riflery, archery, martial arts, survival camp, weightlifting, fitness, and overnights – required a tremendous amount of time and work to get prepared for the onslaught of 800 campers that was due to arrive at the end of June. Did I get time to set them up? If you didn’t answer that correctly, I’ll come over and shoot you with a rusty and half broken rifle, a splintering and bent bow and arrow, beat you with a mateless 5 lb dumbbell, and some paper thin gym mats… if I had any.

When the other 230 staff arrived toward the later half of June, it became sadly noticable that the money that should have gone into supplies and equipment did not get spent on staff. The vast majority of people hired were under, and sometimes flatout un, qualified to teach the things they were in charge of. Most of them were poster children for abortion, or at least state sanctioned sterilization of the rich and retarded.

I am used to working in highly professional and well-trained circles, so it was a doubly painful time being surrounded with such incompetence.  The one redeeming thing at that point was the knowledge that the kids would be arriving any day now.

So it began.  The kids arrived, the parents showed us all why rich children really get screwed from the very start, and I started to realize this weird tightness in my chest – which started a week or two before – hadn’t gone away.  I sometimes get some discomfort in my chest because of some abnormalities in my heart, but it usually doesn’t last long.  So, I paid no attention, and threw myself into a summer that was a mixture of sharp disappointment at the way this company squandered vast resources, and light excitement at finally getting started at the task of teaching children about how the world of the outdoors is wonderful.

The first night of camp, I got to do what I do best – build a mighty campfire around which all the children and adults could commune and bond.  Now, I am used to being charged with the task of creating massive and glorious conflagrations that emblazon the faces of all around with the glow of community and togetherness.  When I wastold the fire shouldn’t go any higher than two to three feet, the flicker of excitement in my eyes was extinguished.  It didn’t help that I had to douse the miniature fire soon after starting it, when a thunderstorm drove the entire camp inside.

Oh well, I still had a little fun with that.  I absolutely love the way all people are drawn to campfires like moths to the literal flame.

The first couple days went by without too big a hitch.  I mean, this place had so many huge problems that I would never send my kids there, but the sections I was in charge of seemed to be running smoothly at the start.  I could write you a collection of volumes on the insanity that went on at this camp, but I will save that for later, and possibly post it if you all want to know.

Anyway, by the fourth day my chest was extremely uncomfortable, so I was taken to the ER.  The closest hospital was an hour away, though, s no one at the camp should ever have an extreme emergency.  After several hours of waiting in a bed, gasping and coughing between blood tests, chest x-rays, and brief encounters with teh world’s most uninterested doctor, I was told that I had pneumonia.

What a summer this was turning out to be.