Brad Herzog back again – with a weather report.
I used to love rainy days at camp. Unpredictable weather meant unplanned fun, often within the confines of a cabin. I often say that about 80 percent of my childhood memories seem to come from my eight-weeks-a-year spent at camp. And many of my fondest camp recollections are of storm-soaked spontaneity – riveting conversations or card games or attempts to maneuver a radio antenna so that we could hear bits and pieces of a big league baseball game in Minneapolis (yes, I’m that old). It was quality time with cabinmates amid the white noise of rain dancing on the roof.
So personally, I’ve never minded wet weather in the North Woods. But rain on cabin cookout night? Not ideal.
A few days ago, we had planned a can’t-miss cookout menu that included mac-and-cheese to be prepared by each cabin over an open fire, along with an option to marry it to pepperoni slices – our famous mac ‘n pep. Two staff members even entertained us with a classic (er, classical) performance about the gastronomical bond – our Logger Village director and Nature Lore director… as Romeo and Juliet… as Mac and Pep.
Pep stood on a balcony in the Rec Hall: “O Mac, Mac, wherefore art though, Mac?” And Mac professed his love: “That which we call a cased meat by any other name would taste as sweet…”
But then the rain falleth. More a sprinkle than a tempest, but enough to cause us to cancel cabin cookout. Dinner became the usual scene in the Rec Hall – featuring the same mac ‘n pep. But dessert? That was a challenge. The cookout menu had called for what we called s’more-itos – a tortilla topped with choices like marshmallows and chocolate chips. However, it wasn’t going to work in the Rec Hall. So… what to do?
Intrepid co-camp director Stephanie met with the kitchen managers, and it went something like this:
“Well, we can make chocolate pudding…”
“Just chocolate pudding? Anything we can add?”
“Those mini-marshmallows weren’t used tonight. We can offer those, too.”
“Okay. Sure. But what else…?”
And then a “Eureka!” moment – a penicillin-in-a-petri-dish discovery. The campers had enjoyed ice cream cones during our Independence Day celebration, but frankly, we had ordered far too many cones. So there were boxes of them sitting in the kitchen, right next to the conversation.
Decades from now, historians may argue about who came up with the idea to crush up the cones and include it as a chocolate pudding/marshmallow topper, creating a s’more-like pudding potion. But it worked. I mean, it really worked. Dessert was a HUGE success. It was written all over the faces of the campers, mostly in pudding. In fact, this creation – we’re calling it Smudding – may become a dessert staple at Nebagamon. All because a few people decided to improvise.
But that was only the beginning of what turned into an evening of inventiveness. You see, the loss of cabin cookout meant that we had about an hour to fill with an evening activity. Again, what to do?
So our program director and a couple of village directors quickly conceived an impromptu replacement activity: Create a couple dozen “stations” around camp. Plant a staff member at each. Have the kids perform the required task. See how many tasks each kid can complete in an hour. We’ll call it the Scramble. Maybe it’ll be fun.
It was.
For an hour, fueled by enthusiasm, they rushed around camp from station to station. Their tasks were varied: Swing a hula hoop five times. Keep three balloons up in the air for 30 seconds. Bounce a ping pong ball on a canoe paddle 15 times. Sing “I’m a Little Teapot” to the head of the Music project. Build a sandcastle at the Waterfront. Find a worm near the Fishing Dock. Do “The Worm” near the Fishing Dock. Draw a self-portrait at the Art Shop. Make up your own announcement at the Rec Hall (“Today in rowing, um, we’re going to, uh, swamp a rowboat!”)
The kids LOVED it. Some managed to hit nearly every station in 60 minutes.
But I might have had the most fun. You see, I had the pleasure of sitting on the Big House porch, along with Steph and a few others. As a parade of campers arrived, we told them their mission for the station: “Tell us a joke.”
It was consistently adorable, occasionally painful, mostly hilarious. Imagine a series of pint-sized performers stepping onto the stage like an up-and-coming comic at Catch a Rising Star. Some paused to muse for a moment before diving into a gag. Others seemed to have a witticism in their back pocket as if they’d been waiting for this opportunity.
Okay, sure, we heard maybe ten versions of “Why’d the chicken cross the road?” But then there were…
“How did the dill become the pickle?… He had a jarring experience.”
“My dad got mad at me ‘cuz I was lazy. I don’t know why…. It’s not like I did anything…”
“A guy walks into a bar… ouch.”
One little Swamper regaled us with a rather long-winded yarn while roaming the porch like Chris Rock prowling the stage. And one Logger, upon finding out that this was a joke-telling task, responded this way: “Are you kidding? Awesome! I mean, I’m like a comedian!”
Turns out he actually is a comedian. He’s even done a couple of sets at a restaurant back home in Connecticut. I swear the kid has his own material – a tight five minutes…
“I think songs should have sequels…” he began. Then he started rattling them off…
“Here Comes the Moon… doo dah doo doo…”
“I… stopped… believing…”
“Welcome to the Motel Oklahoma…”
And he closed with a Billy Joel reference: “So anyway, I told my parents after graduation, ‘I’m…. movin’ in…’”
Not bad at all for a spur-of-the-moment set from a sixth-grader. I’m hoping he’ll treat the whole camp to his comedy stylings during an upcoming talent show – or I’m quitting as his self-proclaimed manager.
But seriously folks, that was improvised comedy… during an improvised evening activity… following an improvised dessert. And by all accounts, all amounted to a total triumph.
All is well in the North Woods…
