Nothing More American

Where to start?

A canoe paddle sliding out of a glass-flat lake, feathering forward, dripping cool beads of water back into the reservoir before slapping gently back into the depths itself, at dusk in the Northwoods.

The smell of logs burning in an open air fire, the only illumination for miles, save the resonance of friends sharing stories around it.

The sun spearing through the trees abundance, flickering, as wind off the lake tussles their limbs.

Seven summers worth of sensory memories absorbed by my boyhood self, and yet, I seek not to wax poetic about landscape—a feat that, even armed with my years of impressions, I am sure even the finest laureates couldn’t recapture—but to try and recount some of the fun and friendship that made those scenes truly beautiful.

I’m sure that in my attempt to open with something profound I’ve already done an injustice to my goal here—to collect the memories of my camp days and capture the spirit of them for myself and others to enjoy—but, hysterical and goofy as my memories are, there was something in the capture the flag games, naked dips into the lake, stupid jokes, raincoat hikes and fast friendships that was distinctly profound in regards to my life.

I’ve thought it myself, heard it verbalized by my mother and had other former camp-goers express the same: My life and who I am would be different without camp. How? Maybe I’d be less confident, or meaner, or just a little less capable—I don’t know. Luckily, I’ll never have to find out because I had an experience over those seven summers that somehow carved me into the man I am today, an experience I feel extremely lucky to have had and one I will never forget.

The thought “Cliché, much?” may jump to mind, but be that the case or not, I’m here to tell my tales because of that aforementioned and ever-present fact: Camp made me who I am today. Hopefully, my stories will expound on the glorious wackiness of summer camp enough to forgive the sappy sentiments already oozing forth here and entertain. If my first attempt at making number two in the great outdoors is any indication, it’s going to be more laughs than idle pontificating once things get going.

Now, with my attempts at poetry and rambling preamble out of the way, let me tell you a story or two…

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Next post, I’ll really kick things off. I promise!-JIM

Similar Posts:

• Introducing “Chipmunk Chatter”——>
• An interview with Dan Gibbons: Part 1
• Fiction-fueled preconceptions of camp

Tags: camp poetry, Introduction, Memories, Nothing More American, rambling, Summer Camp