'The Eraser Story'
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Welcome said the sign as we pulled onto the sand road from the blacktop..Over 36 hours had passed since I left cold, rainy Glasgow and here I was..in the Northwoods of Minnesota, via London. NewYork and Minneapolis. Is this it I thought as the van rumbled along the bone-shaking dirt road that I would get to know only too well. Where are the buildings?..Where are the people? And furthermore, where in the hell is Civilzation?..I had come to Camp through BUNAC, the British University’s North America Club and exchange program for students attending College in degree programs. “Work your summers in America” “Free airfare” “Free food and lodging” said the flyer hanging in my college corridor “Free Airfare?” Free food and lodging?” and they’ll pay you pocket money for your 80 hour work week?..Awesome…hell no wonder they marketed to Scots students..we do like a deal…especially freebies..so I got an application. It was working with kids for the summer, but I could put up with that for 8 weeks if it meant spending the summer in temperatures that were warmer than a Scottish summers day and by the looks of the pictures the people there had a glow about them…oh yeh..they were tanned, so the sun must show its face more than once a week, so I was in. Besides, it was lots of outdoor activities and they were hiring Europeans primarily as ‘Soccer specialists’..what?..Soccer? all summer?..and get paid for it?..oh I was really in..and your visa allowed you to travel around the states after the camp for about 6 weeks or so..Still there was the issue of the kids..my only experience of children was..well, being one. I had a wee brother, who was more mutant than human, and my only experience ‘Caring’ for him was sending him down our very steep stairs in a pink plastic bathtub when he annoyed me..which was normally from dawn until dusk, so I was curious how I would handle the American variety. Surely they couldn’t be like my brother? By the pictures, they all looked to have normal sized heads in proportion to their bodies and appeared fairly human-like..how bad could it be?…I filled out my application and waited…
About a month later I was told to come to Edinburgh for an interview..which annoyed me royally..You see, Glasgow is a much bigger City but Edinburgh is the capital and the place is filled with cellophane Scots..(People with very posh accents claiming to be from Scotland), and it always annoys us ‘Weegies’ when we have to make a special trip there and they won’t come here.
Suddenly panic hit. I tried to remember what I had put on my application?…Let’s just say that, similar to people who are writing a resume, I did exaggerate just a little..well, OK a lot…I had been a cub scout so I used all my vast camping experience (1 overnight in a hostel) to suddenly make it sound like I had led an expedition down the Amazon river..was stretching it a bit..I never said I was Mother Theresa, but I think my work with children in the slums of my City made it sound like I was a trainee of hers.,,Suffice to say I had to find my manual and impress enough..which I guess I did..because I was accepted.
I had no idea where I was going except America and then a green envelope arrived from Michael ‘Shady’ O’Grady signaling that Camp Thunderbird in Bemidji, MN. would be my home..Low and behold I would be paid $100 a week for 8 weeks work on top of my airfare and food and lodging..No wonder his nickname was shady!..N o at the time I thought this was a fortune..after all, what else was I going to spend my money on except on my 1 day off and 1 night off a week?..Little did I know how cheap Pitchers of beer were in the Northwoods and how far $100 would go! ($2.50 in 1987).
So what did I learn in my time at summer camp?…Heck, it should be what didn’t I learn..It changed my life forever in numerous and immeasurable ways. Friends I made there I have remained in touch with ever since, and through the wonders of Social media have been able to reconnect with and time literally stands still. Like those crisp aromatic, pine-tree fed campfires, those memories still burn as bright as ever.
Firstly, from the kids. You see, this was my biggest area of trepidation going in. You see, I really wasn’t sure if I liked them My only real experience of kids was, well, being one. I came from a very small family and the only kid and I knew was my younger brother and I sure as heck didn’t like him, so this was going to be a challenge. However, the kids ended up teaching me more about myself than I ever taught them. Many of them arrived from wealthy homes, where the fast-paced life was the norm. To have them slow down and ‘be in the moment’ truly brought out there beauty within. Sadly, in our day to day living, the chance to just sit around, with no distractions is near non-existent, Summer Camp brings back that dying art of active conversation which ultimately leads to true understanding of a person and their feelings. The joy in watching a timid child water ski for the first time was priceless, and to write letters (remember those) and reports on a weekly basis back to their parents and to just see what they had achieved in one week of Camp was astonishing. Camp deeply affected me as an early 20 something so I can’t imagine the impact it must have had on an early teen child who is grasping for an identity…but wait, I can..I lived it..I witnessed it..and the backdrop was…
Then the Place – Camp Thunderbird on the shores of Lake Plantaganet. On the face of it it was just a series of cabins and washhouses nestled among many pristine acres of lakefront property…Very nice, but rustic at best. But when you filled it with the people is when the magic and the memories began to happen. The kids and the staff were the heartbeat…You only noticed this profoundly at the end of summer when the kids left..and suddenly the tether ball waftly gently in the breeze, with nobody to play with it, or the waterwheel on the lakefront you could almost see yearning for ‘one more turn’ before summer was done…and the staff members, muted now, and almost melancholy, like actors when the audience has left, as they return to chores among the cabins and wash-houses. Then, as night descends, you hear the haunting loon call, almost siren like and suddenly the night sky illuminates with the most astonishing reds, green and blues offering one of nature’s most spectacular shows…the aurora borealis or ‘northern Lights’ ..There is not a firework display in the world that comes close to the deep, intrinsic, yet spectacular display witnessed in the sky when nature chooses to turn it on.
Then the Owners – The Sigoloffs from St. Louis…60 years they have had this Camp..60 years of memories and 60 years of turning strong young boys into proud young men. Looking through the pictures on the wall just about every kid that goes spend about 10 summers at that place and take the memories and skills with them for the rest of their lives. How much of an effect does Camp have on a young child? At the 60th Reunion of Boys Camp (and there are now two Camps), a group of retirees returned to share a cabin again together for the first time in 60 years..Need I say more? They are on their 3rd generation of family running the Camp and without their love and dedication over the years..NONE of this would have been possible. ..’Speedy’ ‘Honey’, Moe’ ‘Carol’ and ‘Tres’
My special Co-Counselors – Assembled from all over the US and the rest of the world, these were the people you laughed with, cried with, partied with, nursed hangovers with…and in my case, married! You relied on them to help you develop the kids and they were your co-pilot in many camping and canoe adventures, assuring that you returned your kids safe and sound. The older ‘Supervisory staff’ tended to be teachers of some kind (who else could get 8 weeks off in the summer) and most of the Counselors were college-aged kids, like myself, each one bringing a different life skill and perspective to the experience. I now have a great appreciation for that military expression ‘Band of Brothers’. Only if you’ve been through the experience together can you truly glean a clear understanding.
So ultimately what did I take away? Firstly, patience..but not just patience in a waiting sense, but patience to press the pause button and truly appreciate what that other persons words or actions are meaning, and not to make a snap decision based on my own frame of reference. Secondly, the ability to actively choose to try and understand another person’s point of view. To really listen..to be ‘present and to appreciate nature and nurture. To understand that we are all interconnected and the choices we make do affect others..Karma..The ripples that you create do indeed have an effect in the rest of the world. That the Native Americans got it right..You must listen to yourself and the natural world around you because all the answers you ever need are right there. Until I went to Camp thunderbird I never really knew myself. As the years have passed, I kind of lost ‘me’ as the ‘life’ took over and it’s only recently that I realized that what Camp ultimately gave me was an opening and a roadmap into my true being.
I returned for three more summers, each one felt like a lifetime of experiences rolled into 10 weeks. I met my wife, mother of my two children and she eventually brought me home to Springfield MO, where I have been for the past 15 years. I’ve had incredible moments of joy and ridiculous heartbreak through those years, but not a day goes by that I don’t practice something I learned from Camp (Building Fires a specialty) in my every day interactions.
Yet, whenever I’m having a bad day, I know I can return in my mind at any time to that special place in the Northwoods, where the haunting loon calls, the northern lights dance, memories are made, and timid wee boys and girls are turned into proud young men & women.
As a baby you were beautiful both inside and out. I never once thought I could fall in love with a bald, toothless girl, but you proved me wrong! How lucky we all are to see that same child blossom into a spectacular young woman…(a goofball, mind you..but still spectacular). J
It’s amazing that your personality so reflects your home State of California..Laid back, easy going and with a heart like the gold within the Sierra Mountains.
It‘s been a joy to call you my daughter for these 18 years. I’m immensely proud of what you’ve achieved and become.
I hope your life continues to be full of sunny days and laughter-filled moments and if you can continue to put a smile in the hearts of others as you have mine, your journey will indeed be a special one.
“That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse” – Walt Whitman
Much love,
Dad (and all the Clan back home in Scotland) x
Courteous is not a three letter word
It seems that the words ‘Car’ and ‘Courteous’ are impossible to put together. Any one that has sat in that wee tin box knows that there’s a strange feeling that comes over them..They shout out loud and gesticulate and the actions of other fellow driver. If we were to do this out with the protective bubble of our car, we would surely be taken away by the men in white coats.
If someone isn’t going fast enough, someone doesn’t pull out when they should or someone stopping suddenly for no reason are all reasons to let fly with some choice wording that would make a sailor blush…and it normally happens when you are running late for church.
We also turn into Italians..Ever want to know if we are all someone related to the Romans? Just sit at an intersection for 5 mins and wait for the perfect gap in traffic… Just watch the gesticulations in the rear view mirror..Like a crazed waiter in Milan, those hands soon get busy.
If you think about it even the language we use out on the road is negative. Stop Light? Really, it should be a ‘Go’ light, because without it working, nothing would move. ‘Objects in the rear-view mirror are closer than they appear’? No wonder people want to go faster. They think they’re being stalked.
It also seems to check our brains at the door when we get in the car…why else would they put a sign at the exit ramp of a 4-Lane freeway that says ‘Wrong way’..I believe the four lanes of traffic hurtling towards me would probably give that part away, but maybe not.
My pet peeves?..Turn signals, or their lack of use. You may know where you’re going, but I don’t..honestly, I don’t. I can’t read your mind that you are turning, that’s why Car companies include that little lever that goes up or down and operates the blinking light thingy. That blinking light lets other drivers know where you are going so we can react accordingly. I know it’s a pain but we’d really appreciate the heads up and it would be courteous of you.
After spending many years in the MidWest I have found out why a lot of people don’t use their turn signals..they are saving the bulbs for when they are retired and they use them ALL DAY LONG. Ever been behind that Buick or Oldsmobile (Never a more appropriately named car has been made)? There is the turn signal..blinking away in time with their pacemakers…same one, same side, all day long. If they actually followed their signal, you would have the perfect ‘Circle of Life’.
Secondly, Harley Davidson bikes (yes, by definition they are still personal transportation therefore qualify!)..I know they’re an American Icon, but so is Ronald MacDonald and I don’t have to hear him ‘clowning’ from half a mile away. Whether or at a stop light or in a driveway, why do Harley owners insist on making sure they know they are riding something powered with a combustion engine..Here’s a clue..WE ALL ARE! The difference is because we’re courteous we don’t have to let everyone hear about it.
So why is it that when there is a piece of glass in between ourselves and other drivers, the most calm, considerate person in real life, turns into a European Soccer Hooligan? We wouldn’t do that on a nature trail, so why do we do it on the road. If someone cuts us off while walking a trail to we berate them would a one fingered salute and encourage them to do things that are physically impossible? No, because we are courteous and polite..until we get behind the wheel and turn on the combustion engine, both literally and metaphorically.
So do me a favor today. Follow the advice of a sign that I used to see on an old country road in Scotland: ‘A little care gets you there’….and a little courtesy will stop those graying hairs!
Dad and I were going to a football game…It was a dark damp Glasgow night..The kind that chilled you to the bone. The street lights gave almost a sepia tinge to the hustle and bustle below…We lived about 15 minutes walk from Hampden Park..Scotlands National football stadium, 10 minutes if I was with my dad. It was the 70’s and Courderoy was in..the speed at which that man walked I swear the friction in those pants you could see sparks!!!…..An ex-professional soccer player himself he had the unique ability to look like he was walking, yet somehow his feet never seemed to touch the ground..and, as a 7 yr old holding tightly to his hand..mine never did…I was like one of those cartoons where you see the person hanging on and going up the road sideways..that was me.
From my horizontal view I could see the floodlights in the distance…Four giant pillars breaking the dark of the night..like when Dorothy first saw OZ there it was..then, like a distant breaking surf, you could hear the crowd noise..ebbing and flowing like an angry sea….and suddenly my dad’s pace was picked up and I was flying…
Not that we were late…we were actually bang on time..as I’ve mentioned before my father was a traditional thrifty Scotsman..could make copper wire out of a penny kind of guy…and he knew that with 30 mins to go in the game they used to open the gates and let people leave…and allow people like my dad..to come in..These were the days when ¾ of the stadium was all-standing so where you went in really didn’t matter…So on that 15, I mean 10..actually now 7 .5 minute walk to the stadium my father brainwashed me into believing that the ‘last half hour’ was the best part of the game, and there’s really no need to see the rest..and you know something?..40 years later, he was right..regardless of the sport!
As the crowd noise got louder, and our quickening pace drew us to the light like a bug, we could see the haze of cigarette smoke above the stadium, like LA on a summers day..Its aura softening the light and making everything around it look like one of those old black and white photographs..
Finally we arrived at the Stadium and..and my father spied an open gate…Beyond these big steel gates were the Cathedral like steps..probably 200..On our way up to the promised land (Two steps at a time of course)..we would pick up a couple of discarded matchday programmes (again saving money)..during the ascent..and suddenly reaching the opening and, like heaven, lay the most spectacular sight I’d ever seen..From the darkness of the street I was suddenly thrust into the light of the stadium…so bright it made your eyes squint..the playing field..still the most beautiful green I’d ever seen..bright emerald green, the players uniforms..red, robust red and yellow..the most vibrant bright yellow ever….’Amarillo’ as they say in Spanish.
And all around a sea of white faces..like Noddy dogs in the back of cars..no bodies, just heads..all lost in the moment..and all very present….and which on this damp, cold Glasgow night was exactly what my father had given me that day..The Present…It cost him nothing but meant everything to me..Priceless in so many ways…Thanks, Dad.
This gallery contains 2 photos.
I’m getting a bit tired hearing about the Rapture that would occur when the smoking ban kicked in..Guess what?..Nothing happened..again!
Whether you’re a smoker or not, I want to promise you one thing. The world will keep turning and the sun will rise the next morning, regardless of this ban.
Want proof? I grew up in Ireland and Scotland, where the pubs had so much smoke in there you could cut it with a knife. Going through College I worked behind the bar and would leave ‘reeking’ (It’s no wonder that’s a Scottish word) of smoke. It was an integral part of pub life whether you smoked or not. Actually, it worked to your disadvantage, as your parents would be able to tell if you’d been in the pub or not, by your ash tray-like aroma.
About 5 years ago both Ireland and Scotland decided to go ‘Smoke-Free’ in Pubs and restaurants and yet again, everyone proclaimed the world was coming to an end. Amazingly though, they adapted. Pubs created nice little outdoor areas for the smokers, mounted ash trays on the their outer walls and pub life carried on..smoke-free!
Interestingly enough it has created a sub-culture within the smokers. People you may have never met in a large, crowded bar, you suddenly find yourself striking conversations with in the more intimate gathering outside. After all, you all have that common Nicotine bond! Truth be told, the dating scene has gotten a lot easier for smokers.
I don’t smoke but have plenty of friends that do. The majority have always been polite enough to not blow smoke directly in my face, and I have accepted that being in a bar you will have to put up with smoke.
However, second hand smoke has been proven to be bad for my health so if I have a choice, I’d rather not be around it. This is why the Smoking ban makes sense. I had no choice before if I wanted to enjoy a pub or bar..I had to put up with the smoke. Now I don’t.
Smoking is not like drinking. If I drink a beer, I smell. If I smoke a cigarette, we all do. Does it take people’s rights away? Sure, but we live in a civilized society where we have to have rules to maintain order.
I’d love to run naked down National Avenue at Rush hour, however, that is also banned for the same reason smoking is…It has been proven to be bad for people’s health, and some people would have an adverse reaction to it.
So why not just try it? After all, what’s the worst that can happen? You smoke less while saving money and a bit of lung tissue? …Darn, what a drag.
Out of the devastation of the past month both in Joplin and Branson, something amazing has happened..Can you feel it? It’s called ‘Caring’ and it’s broken out all over the Ozarks and resonated around the world. Caring for our neighbors;Caring for our loved ones and caring for towns that have been devastated by tornadoes and floods.
The level of support and caring is so overwhelming that you wonder was it always there or did it take events such as these to bring out the best in people? If you’re like me and you believe that 100% of people born into this world are good, then you believe that we are born with the most basic instinct of all..and that is to care.
In Joplin this past week we have witnessed caring at its finest. People selflessly helping people they don’t know get back on their feet. No agenda. No keeping score. Just caring enough to want to help a fellow human being in their time of need.
News-hardened reporters from all over the world are now turning their attention from the physical devastation to the intangible well spring of human spirit that is gushing forth through the rubble and helping fill the hearts and souls of those left so empty.
They say they’ve never seen caring like it, but if you look closely enough every day, you can find it. Whether it’s the person who volunteers at a homeless shelter, or a simple visit to an elderly neighbor, there is caring and kindness all around, it just takes something like Joplin to witness it on a larger scale.
So what can we learn from the ‘Spirit of Joplin, 2011′? Perhaps we can learn that you shouldn’t wait to tell people in your life that you love them and they are special. Secondly, you should learn to care about every facet of your life and let it shine through.
In business they always say that you can hire anyone to do a job, but you can’t make them care about it. Think how much better we all would be in our lives if we embodied the ‘Spirit of Joplin’ in everything we did, in every waking moment.
I’m blessed in my life to be surrounded by family, friends, colleagues and clients who really care about what they do and how they treat others. I’ve called the Ozarks home for nearly 20 years, and I have never been prouder to be part of a community than I have this past month.
‘Tis a privelige to live in the Ozarks’and ‘Tis an honor to be surrounded by people who care.
