"Camp, like, camp camp?" I said. I was stirring a cup of coffee, clanking the spoon against the mug, and conjuring up a face that was nothing more than bona fide confusion. I drank a lot of coffee that summer.
"Yeah, what was your summer camp like?" She asked me as though she was inquiring about my dog or my first period. I looked at Dan, who was sitting down.
"Camp?" I said to him. He shrugged his shoulders. I looked back at my co-worker. "I didn't go to camp."
Her face dropped. "What do you mean you didn't go to camp? Everybody goes to camp! Wow, it's like you didn't have a childhood." She crossed her arms and shook her head in exasperation.
Dan and I exchanged glances. As fellow Ohioans from more or less similar backgrounds, it had never dawned on us that Camp is a Thing. I know how ludicrous that sounds, even more so now as I reflect on the countless individuals who have looked like they're on the verge of vomit when they discover my prepubescent deprivation of lake swims and night hikes. But now, especially after having attended a Liberal Arts College, it is abundantly clear to me that Camp is most definitely a Thing. I think this was the first time that either Dan or I had been so aggressively confronted with the realization. Our co-worker continued by telling us how awesome her camp was, how awesome camp still is, how we should apply to work at camps at some point in our lives, and how not attending camp has forever affected the trajectory of our lives and we'll probably never be able to fill the gaping camp voids we both undoubtedly possess. Dan and I drank more coffee.
After stewing it over for awhile, she approached us again.
"So if you didn't go to camp, then what did you do?" She looked so worried for me, as though I was going to reveal a meth habit acquired at age 12. I told her that sometimes we'd go outside, play tag, maybe ride bikes. When it rained we had to accommodate to that, what with rain being wet and all, but we made do. We played with a contraption called "the hose" which is like a lake but compressed into a system of rubber tubing. I explained to her that we'd use it when it got really hot outside, sometimes even hooking it up to another device called "the sprinkler." Night was a little tricky. We were often unable to navigate the neighborhoods with star visibility being as low as it was on account of those damn street lights. Traumatizing, really. She understood completely.
I really don't mean to demonize camp people or make them all seem like my co-worker/the other people I've encountered who are so sincerely sad for me and my alleged lost childhood. Simply put, I did not grow up in a community where camp was a popular (or even existent) option. I literally don't know people who went to camp and no, Camp Christopher Family Camp does not count. So going to my college, where most people had a pair of rock climbing shoes handy or wanted to know the best local river for kayaking, was a little strange for me. Of course this is not to say that I dislike nature either. Nature and I co-exist. She does her work out there and I do my work in here. She ruins my life with allergies and sinus bursting pressure changes but I get her back by using styrofoam, plastic bottles, and formerly driving my car around a three-block-long college campus. We're about even.
When I was little I was all about nature and I really liked getting dirty. I felt a strange sense of accomplishment if my knees and fingernails were crusted with dirt, as though I had put in my quota of play for the day. I liked to dig up bugs and put them in jars. I think I wanted to study bugs for a short period of time, actually. I liked to have grass stains and mosquito bites and shin bruises. But then, as is often the case, my interests changed and my body changed and those things did not hold my attention anymore. I don't think there's anything wrong with that. I believe there's a stigma surrounding people who don't do outdoorsy things and it's annoying as hell. People think you're boring or weak or lazy or not willing to have fun. Movies and television always have these infuriating depictions of female characters whose bitchiness or "she's so wrong for him!"-ness is shown via her inability to handle wildlife. Think about Dennis Quaid's girlfriend in The Parent Trap. We were already instructed not to like her, mostly because she was NOT Natasha Richardson, but the final nail in the coffin for this women was her ill-fated attempt at a camping trip. She screamed at bugs and was disgusted by everything in the forest and she was styled in an all white outfit that suggested she was more worried about staying pretty than enjoying the hike. I hate shit like that. Imagine how infuriated I was when Carrie Bradshaw had that freak attack whiny child fit thing when she hated everything about Aidan's cabin. I was like, Carrie, pull yourself together, you're not doing us any favors. Anyway. My indifference to, and sometimes disinterest in outdoorsy things is rooted in my body's reactions to certain activities. I have bad knees. Bad Knews Knees. I don't like the way my body feels when I push it to do things I know it shouldn't. There's a huge difference between pushing yourself in a healthy way and pushing your already damaged bones and joints to do things they shouldn't. I hope that clears up your criticisms. Or does this only validate your argument that I am boring, weak, and lazy? Whatever, bro, you can pop my knee back into place sometime. It's as much fun as you think it would be.
So I have this ambivalence towards outdoor activity. I like being outside and I think that there are many beautiful things to see when outside but no, I don't want to go mountain biking with you. But do you know what makes this hilarious? Manfriend is the BIGGEST outdoor kid ever. No, not just outdoor. Camp Kid. He walks outside in the morning and birds sit on his shoulders while squirrels tie his shoe laces. He breathes in sunshine and his body turns it into his cheery disposition and the twinkle in his eye. He says things like "I biked 90 miles in a day!" and then he puts on boots and a flannel shirt and chops down a tree. All the while I'm like, "Do we need one or two bottles of wine? I'll get both," and then I growl at the sun and shake my fist at it. It's really bright, you know? Anyway, he is an absolute dear about not making me feel bad about having different interests than him. I realize that I'm being a little paranoid and insecure, but I have actually faced characters in my past who used the word "boring" and certainly inferred laziness and weakness on several occasions because I didn't want to go to backpacking or whatever the activity may have been. I can be a crazy person, but this one is surprisingly well rooted in reason.
I decided that I should give you my pre-approved list of outdoor activities. These are things I will always like doing with you outside.
Drinking outside
I feel my outdoorsiest when I am outside while drinking. You don't even need to bring a coat.
Eating outside
This is also very nice, especially if you have a chair. If you're standing up while eating outside you're probably at a graduation party or family reunion. But sitting down to a meal outside is lovely because it gives you a sense of outdoor accomplishment, like you "did" something with your day.
Talking outside
Yeah, I'll talk to you outside, that's fine. But once the mosquitoes come out, I'm booking it.
Fires
Sitting near fires is very nice. You should be outside for this anyway. Sometimes, if you're really lucky, you can combine the above activities and do them all while being near this fire.
Walking outside
That's okay, too. I'll even let you call it a hike. Though one time I hiked with a friend in Vermont and I thought I was dying because he was walking the trail at race pace. At one point I stopped for water and I seriously considered starting a new life there on that rock where I was sitting. I assumed someone would find me eventually.
Reading/writing outside
Again, this makes you feel like you "did" something with your day.
Boats!!!
I'll totally go on a boat with you. I was on a boat a couple of days ago and I was like...okay, boat, you're fine. I was with Manfriend and his family and I'm not sure if they knew it was my first time on a sailboat, but I made sure not to mention it. Sometimes people go really crazy about anyone doing anything for the first time. The first time I left the country was when I studied abroad in Italy. Countless people responded with, "What?!?!?! How?!?!?! Oh my God!!!!??? So deprived!!!! How did this happen??!" And I was like, probably because I didn't go to camp. But I enjoyed my time on said boat. I had a glass of wine and after one sip it occurred to me that I had no idea if sea sickness affects me. It had been easily twelve years since I was last on a boat and my stomach has changed a lot since then. I was immediately hyper aware of my every move. At one point, I was motioned to another part of the boat and I was holding my wine while trying to walk which was awkward anyway, but I jumped to the conclusion that I was not awkward but so totally hammered and sea sick. Obviously, neither of those things were true at all as I had imbibed about a thimble full of wine at that point, but I stopped moving and sat down anyway. I just sat down. I think someone even asked if I was okay. And I was but I had tricked myself into thinking I wasn't and in the span of about five seconds I had constructed a narrative in my head in which the family told stories about me for years to come and I would be known as That Girl Who Can't Walk on Boats or something hopefully a little more clever. From my seated position I handed off my wine glass to someone, did a strange kind of slither into a seat, got my legs caught under my body, then flopped into another seat. I imagine it being a beautiful display of the body's abilities.
And that's pretty much how I feel about going outside.
I have nothing especially Chicago-y to report as I have been in Wisconsin for about the last week. I did all of the above outside activities. One day, I sat outside with wool socks and shorts and now I have a tan like at mid shin. It's glorious.
Tomorrow I am dedicating my day to the walking tour of my neighborhood/surrounding neighborhoods. I am going to beg employment from friendly looking book sellers and baristas. I will be wearing my glasses. And if this works out, then all of my dreams will have finally come true, as I will either be reading and drinking coffee inside of a building where the temperature is controlled and then I can come home and write all the things that need to be written so that I can then send them to other friendly people who want to publish them. It's a fail proof plan.
Also, you should know that Manfriend made me promise to never blog about him. I think he will be okay, though, as I have essentially depicted him as a lumberjack.
<3 <3 <3
No comments:
Post a Comment