Camp |
"We're going to clean out the Three Rivers sewer system," one of our counselors tells us, stifling a barely perceptible grin. "Make sure that you all wear clothes that you can get dirty in."
"They're lying," Sam whispers to the seventeen of us as we gathered outside the white vans that would allegedly take us to the sewers. "They always say we're doing something gross when we leave camp like this," he says. "Last summer they said we were going to an old folks' home."
"Where are we going then, Sam?" asks Maya.
Sam smiles to himself and remains quiet.
This statement of fact by a knowledgeable camper and subsequent interrogation by the less knowledgeable one is a common exchange at Camp Tavor. Because of the esoteric nature of many of Tavor's traditions, new campers are often in the dark until an older or more experienced camper deigns them worthy of an explanation.
“Come on Sam, just tell us already,” chimes in another camper from the back of the van as we turn down the long dirt trail that winds its way through the forest marking the edge of camp. The road heaves up and down past fallen trees and rusted metal fencing until you reach the first marker of civilization, the corn field. The field is always referred to as “the corn field” even when the farmer who tills it has planted a crop of dinky soy bean plants instead of the towering corn stalks that, at night, provide a much anticipated maze into which only the coolest of counselors take their campers to play a terrifying medley of hide-and-seek and tag called “Come Dance With the Devil in the Pale Moonlight.” As the vans heave over the road's last hill, and hang suspended at the cusp of the hill, the trees to the left of the road narrow into a sparse line, and the final symbol of civilizations' reappearance is revealed, the grey asphalt of A.L. Jones, the paved two-lane highway marking the beginning of the rural outskirts of Three Rivers.
Ten minutes after the vans have turned onto A.L. Jones, they round another bend onto North Main Street. Sam recognizes the street name and a mile-wide grin spreads across his face.
“Come on Sam, tell us where we're going,” implores Maya.
“Goldies,” he finally replies, grin spreading even wider. “We're going to Goldies.”
Yummmmm. |
We pile out of the vans and take their places at the picnic tables waiting outside, the giant umbrellas poking out of the middle of the tables like palm trees a welcome respite from the humid heat of the summer.
“All right,” says a counselor, “this is how it works. Four people inside at one time, when someone comes out, another person goes in”. As a camper, the inside of Goldies was mysterious, somewhere we only ventured into to pick out what kind of ice cream we wanted or to use the bathroom. We always scampered back outside to eat our ice cream, the summer heat made the coolness of the ice cream that much more refreshing.
As kids, ice cream was all we ever ate at Goldies, nothing else on the menu interested us. Looking back, we were hardly empathetic towards the lactose-intolerant kids who never got to experience the wonder of yellow cake batter or peppermint patty ice cream. They were limited to a box of good nonetheless french fries. The scoops of ice cream were enormous to our eleven, twelve, thirteen year-old eyes. No one could match our monstrous appetites. Even a small was too big for some of our sugar-headache-wary counselors. No ice cream was too large, too sugary, too cold for us. We scarfed down frozen delight with reckless abandon, monstrous grins on our faces the whole time.
Goldies ice cream and I had been close friends for years but my more mature and passionate love affair with everything in the restaurant began in 2009, my first year as a counselor at Camp Tavor. The summer was one of exhaustion and excitement. The amount of work and planning that we had to do was inversely proportional to the amount of sleep we received and thus our general well-being. I soon discovered that everyone needs a break from the always-on mentality of camp. Luckily, the wise staff in the past had established a system of break taking that proves effective still today. Everyone is allotted one whole day, one half day, and two nights off per three- or four-week session. Counselors used these breaks to go out to eat at restaurants in Three Rivers, maybe go to a movie, and finally retire to the corn field at the edge of camp to commit unspeakable acts of debauchery.
Being among my fellow counselors who had had the same wonderful experience with Goldies ice cream that I had, we naturally decided to explore the other fare that the restaurant could offer. What a decision. The experience of driving out of camp, not packed into giant white vans, but tooling around in crappy pre-college student sedans and minivans was a new and thrilling one. We screeched into parking spaces outside Goldies and walked into the cool air conditioned interior. Always focused on the steaming ice cream buckets behind the counter directly across from the door, I had never noticed what the inside of Goldies looked like. It was a diner, tables and chairs, booths along the walls, nothing fancy.
These wings come nowhere close to the masterpiece of BBQ Hot wings. |
We walked up to the counter, and I, thinking I'd try a totally new meal, ordered both a Southwest Barbecue Burger and an order of eight chicken wings. It was love at first sight. My whole meal was $8, perfect for a broke camp counselor. Let's begin with the burger. Three onions rings atop a ½ pound burger covered with American and Pepperjack cheese, pickles and a hearty helping of BBQ sauce.
Next, the dish that, after eating for the first time two years ago, I will now give nearly anything for, Goldies chicken wings. Slathered, and I mean slathered in BBQ and Tobasco sauce. These wings are gigantic. Goldies being my first experience with them, I had no frame of reference for the average size of chicken wings, but theses were enormous. When eating normal wings, you scarf a couple down without even realizing it but I tasted each and every of those eight wings that I devoured that night. The spicy sweet punch of the sauce against the crunch and texture of the breading and the soft smoothness of the chicken beneath was unbelievable. I burned through them like a hot knife through butter. Or a hungry camp counselor through a plate of incredible wings. This was an adult meal. My first introduction to the wonders of BBQ sauce and expanses of barbecued meat. There is nothing childish about wrenching the last morsel of saucy meat off of the bone, tossing the bare stick atop the mountainous pile of its companions, grinning contentedly, and gently reclining so as not to lose the meal you've just ingested. After a lengthy digestive rest, I staggered to the bathroom to wash the barbecue and Tobasco sauce off of my hands. I was still smiling when the jet of burning water from the faucet scorched my hands the same color as the sauce.
Max,
ReplyDeleteGreat incorporation of dual narration! I really enjoyed it. You also do a good job describing the moments so that I can see what's happening. One thing I was wondering was if you could make it more transparent to us why the campers get to dine at Goldies. I'm curious because the only camps I ever went to as a kid were self-contained--we didn't get to travel. And maybe it's not important but it's something I wondered about.
I absolutely love how you ended it! You made those chicken wings sound so good. I liked the 'full-circle' feel of the memoir.
The other thing I was wondering about was where you are when the dialogue is happening at the beginning with Sam and the rest of the kids. It would be cool if I could get a better sense of you as a kid through kid thoughts or something.
Overall really good start, I like your style.
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ReplyDeleteReally fun story! Your description of the "adult" food at Goldies was especially strong.
ReplyDelete"As a camper, the inside of Goldies was mysterious"--I take it this is the "older, wiser narrator"--but it's a bit of a confusing transition. I think I'm mostly confused because I'm not sure if the speaker is a new camper at the time of the story, of if you are an experienced one like Sam. Maybe you could make yourself a character/have dialogue?
It seems like the tone shifts--you start as a narrator without a part, and then the second half seems more memoir-like, with the "I" character speaking but no dialogue. Another confusing part of this shift is that you tell the earlier event in PRESENT tense, and the later, more recent event, in past tense. Just something to think about.
Hey, Max!
ReplyDeleteI'm with Julia on the narration/tense thing--I think a mixing of the narration might work better than trying to make that shift smoother/more evident.
I really like your portion as a kid, though... so I don't know.
-struggled a little bit with pulling out bigger themes? I like the childhood perspective/adult perspective, but almost expected you to go back to Goldies and not like the food~ Could this be a food-transporting-you memoir perhaps?
I also wanted to hear more of your voice? ...and maybe going into different descriptions of setting and playing around with tenses/narrations would help bring more of your perspective out of the piece in a round-about way.
You do a really good job of writing about camp in a way that doesn't make it out to be Everybody's Experience--and sometimes I think that's hard to do with a typical childhood staple. Good job!
I love camp stories, mostly because I never went to camp as a kid and I found it fascinating. I agree with Elaine that I would enjoy more context, more information about the camp and about the people you were with...unless that's not what you're trying to focus on. I think it could be really fun. I like all of your dialogue--I always think it adds an personal element and all of your dialogue is what has made your piece stand out in my mind.
ReplyDeleteI'm going to echo everybody on the tense shifting. I was a bit thrown off at times when you would shift. There's one part where you're explaining, in present tense, your first reaction to Goldies, and then you go into describing the interior and whatnot in the past tense. It was an abrupt transition from your child to your adult self. Does that make sense?
I really enjoyed your description of your grown-up relationship with Goldies. I really like the adult you! Again, I agree with Kelsey that I had a difficult time pulling out the themes of your piece (this kind of thing has to happen naturally though, I think). Is it the camaraderie between you and the other camp counselors? And somehow Goldies made those relationships stronger? I just wonder if there's a bigger theme surrounding Goldies. I was also hoping to see a more explicit connection between the "adult meals" and your new camp counselor role...if they're related.
Max,
ReplyDeleteReally great work! I had a fun time reading your piece. I definitely liked the transition from child to adult, the differences you saw when you were older and no longer a camper. You walked in and did not even recognize the place-I think many could relate to this experience. I also laughed out loud when you were describing the drive and the corn field was the first sign of civilization.
You might add something about whether the experience changed due to adulthood or due to your new role though. Also, I agree with the tense issue. This was the only thing that really threw me off with your piece.
I have never had the experience of being a long-term summer camper or a camp counselor, so this made it all the more fun for me to read. Great start Max!
Max, this is wonderful writing and a great story. The whole idea of revisiting a place like this is so interesting, and there's so much to say about it [which you do].
ReplyDeleteI really loved your dialogue at the beginning--you write dialogue very smoothly and believably [which makes me jealous]. It was difficult to tell whether you were one of the older campers or whether you were simply able to reflect on the differences between campers based on your adult, counselor perspective. In the beginning your piece felt like it was going to be a [possibly fictional] short story, but then it became a memoir. I'm conflicted over this, because I loved both parts, but realize that I should like the way they fit together less.
A couple of sentence-level things I noticed but didn't want you to miss in editing: I like this sentence without the last 'of the hill.' What do you think? "As the vans heave over the road's last hill, and hang suspended at the cusp of the hill..."
Also, this sentence was slightly confusing, though I get the gist of what you're saying: "They were limited to a box of good nonetheless french fries."
This was very entertaining and enjoyable to read, Max. Thanks for writing it.
This is a really great story Max! I too, am a fan of camp stories, and you managed to make yours stand out from what can often be an over used subject.
ReplyDeleteI like how you started the piece, grabbed my attention right away. You may want to put some other dialogue in the second half of the story, since you use it at the start. Maybe not, I don't know, it's something to think about.
I like your writing style; your use of phrases like "committing unspeakable acts of debauchery." You have a good sense of humor, though I think your voice could be a little stronger in it. What flavor of ice cream did you get that day as a kid? What did delicious ice cream mean to you after weeks(? months?) without it?
Hey, hey you.
ReplyDeleteSo, I thought this piece really captured your love of Goldies, but as someone who has heard about Goldies from you anytime food is mention—maybe a bit of an exaggeration—I wanted to hear even MORE about how much you love the place. I'm convinced you do from reading this place, but not enough. And your love of both BBQ Sauce and Hot Sauce. I know you love the Goldies wings, but I think it would give us all more insight on you if we got to know how much you personally love those sauces in your everyday life.
I also thought the beginning could be condensed. I felt the anticipation of getting to Goldies—which was really great—but I started wanting to get there sooner as you kept describing the arrival to Goldies. We didn't get to the actual venue until half-way through the piece.
Overall, I thought this was a fun, honest piece that showed your voice as a writer. And it really made me want to go and eat cake-batter icecream.