Greetings from camp!
This is Brad Herzog with an entertainment report. Last night, we enjoyed a GTC, a camp talent show. This was the first time we’ve held one in the Rec Hall since 2019. It was good to be back.
I don’t know if it’s the acoustics or the history covering nearly every inch of wall space, but it felt like we were back to normal by harkening back to decades of tradition. “Good Time Charlie” generally refers to a carefree and convivial fellow – the life of the party. But as anachronistic as the name seems to be, it’s not the original name of Nebagamon’s showcase. Those were “Skit Nights.” My point: This thing has been around a LONG time.
Now, we call it a talent show, but frankly, I consider it more of a showcase of courage. It takes some bravery for a 5th grader to start the festivities by sitting down at the piano in front of a crowd of 200 people…. or for a 7th grader to sing “You’ll Be Back” from Hamilton – in an Australian accent… or a 9th grader to perform a flag-waving routine. Yes, our GTC acts trend toward the unusual and unexpected. Like the trio of Swampers who performed an advertisement for dehydrated water. “Just add water!”
But you can’t have a GTC at Camp Nebagamon without the post-show performance – the entire camp family gathering in song. And last night I realized that each song we sing has its own Nebagamon-ish qualities.
We started, for instance, with “One Dark Night,” always a camper favorite. Odd, though, in that it’s a rollicking ditty about the origins of the Great Chicago Fire. “Old Mother Leary lit a lantern in the shed… When the cow kicked it over…” (One brainy and empathetic first-year camper from the Chicago area actually approached co-director Steph during the song. He was wide-eyed and livid: “This song is so wrong! She had nothing to do with starting the fire! It’s not fair! Imagine if you were her!”). The song is sung in a round, and each village tries to top the previous one by belting it out louder. So, what “One Dark Night” represents to me is a sort of village-by-village pride at Nebagamon.
Next, “Viva La Company,” a song dating back more than 200 years and 4000 miles across the Atlantic: “Let ev’ry good fellow now join in our song… Viva la company!” It’s a reminder that these are some OLD-SCHOOL tunes. But so are we. I mean, we still use a projection screen and transparencies for the lyrics. We may as well have kids sign up for a Cave Painting project.
On that note, next came “The Billboard Song,” about a billboard rearranged by wind and rain. It was actually brought to camp in our very first summer season – 1929 – and that’s evident in the lyrics. Here are campers who have grown up with VR and TikTok, and they’re singing a song about… Lillian Russell… and a Chauncey Depew lecture… and, well, sapolio. So this song always reminds me that it’s not the lyrics that matter; it’s the spirit.
“Mrs. Grady” was next, a chance for camp individuality and expression – at least for a few seconds. Picture a 10-year-old standing up in front of 200 mates and trying to recite the seven days of the week as often as possible in one breath. They do fine – maybe six or seven times – but then the whole camp cheers for Steph to do her thing. Last night, she got to 14 in one breath. I will resist any joke about my friend being full of hot air.
This was followed by “Black Socks,” a song brought to camp only recently by a specialist, a sign that we’re actually open to new tunes once in a while. The lyrics: “Black socks, they never get dirty. The longer you wear them, the stronger they get. Sometimes I think I’ll just wash them, but something inside me says, No, not yet, not yet.” So not every song is entirely fictional…
My favorite was next: “The Happy Wanderer.” The campers love to shout the last word of each line (“I love to go a wandering along the mountain track… TRACK!… and as I go, I love to sing, my knapsack on my back… BACK!” So this one represents harmless camp mischief. Because oh boy do the campers love it when they get to “… Oh may I go a-wandering until the day I die… DIE!”
Next came two songs that represent sort of the opposite – a certain reversion to innocence. First, “Lollypop” (“L-O-double-L-Y-P-O-P spells lollypop…”), followed by longtime mainstay “Itsy Bitsy Spider.” Imagine your sometimes too-cool-for-school teenager belting out tunes that seem geared toward toddlers – with a broad smile on his face. Camp does that. The kids don’t really care how they look; they care how they feel.
Two classic then followed: “Mountain Dew” and “Logger Lover.” The first offers a scene of scores of boys waving their shirts around and singing about the, er. soda-loving Uncle Bill who “had a still on a hill.” The latter features that same crew, arms around shoulders, swaying and singing a ballad about the poor, singularly-focused lumberjack who stirs coffee with his thumb. My take: It shows the range of emotions that we encourage up here.
Finally, we always end with a trio of serious songs. First, “54849,” written by a former camper and counselor, which represents the remarkable impact that this summer camp in northern Wisconsin has on so many people who adore it. Second, “We Shall Keep the Friends We’ve Found Here,” which shows that bond forming in real time – a timeless song about a priceless feeling.
And finally, of course, in the end: “Thanks for the Pines.”
Decades ago, as my parents drove five-year-old me and my equally five-year-old twin brother through the Camp Nebagamon gate for the first time, my dad sang that song as we arrived. Fifty years later, it still resonates every time I hear it, and especially when I hear it from the mouths of a couple hundred campers and staff who are truly thankful – sincerely grateful – for the experience IN THE MOMENT.
“Thank you, Camp Nebagamon… Thank you, Camp Nebagamon…”
All is well in the North Woods.
