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My shopping list of the camporee has involved some strange bedfellows like 12 hula hoops, 13 tennis balls, 2 funnels, 3 beach balls and 2 kids sized exercise balls.  Some oddities:

  • I went to Toys R’ Us to buy kids exercise balls thinking they’d make giant kick balls.  I asked a store attending how burst resistant they were to which she replied “profoundly, I know someone who couldn’t even pop one with a mechanical pencil.”
  • Me yelling asking a cluster of teens at Oxford Valley mall to make way as I walked through their cohort with 12 hula hoops wearing aviator glasses.
  • The Leslie’s Pool desk attendant asking me if diving rings would do instead of a beach ball for my giant volleyball game.

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I finally received a night out Friday, and by night I mean a 90 minute window between 11:00 PM and 12:30 AM.  After changing into civies (which for camp staff is nearly identical to the staff uniform except for the Hawaiian shirt) and dashing to Applebees for discount appetizers I see a pile of disaffected teenagers fulfilling several stereotypes involving impressive women with cars.  I decide to fulfill a dream:

I go to the top of the parking lot, roll down the windows crank out Pachabel’s Canon and zoom past with my head the window yelling “wuz up, ladiez!!!”