S.T.A.F.F.: Spirit

In the Starlight Playhouse, just to the left of the stage (stage right for all you theatre majors) are five flags that hang for the entirety of camp. The upper senior boys bring them into the rec hall (Starlight Playhouse doubles as the rec hall) on the opening night. On the five flags are five words; well there's one word on each flag...total of five words: Spirit, Tradition, Adventure, Family, Fun. During one of our many activities in the rec hall I noticed that these words spelled S.T.A.F.F. I was kind of bored but I thought it was really cool because it was completely unintentional. These next couples blogs are going to be about what each word means to me.

The first installment then shall be: Spirit

It is shockingly hard for me to define what spirit "is." The way I like to define spirit is through attributes. The desire to wake up every morning with the goal of having a better day than yesterday. The willingness to do everything you can to get the most out of life. The knowledge that at the end of the day you left it all on the field, so to speak. 3am creeps up on you and you press on with the set and costumes because you know there are too many people depending on you.

Spirit, however, is one of the easiest things in the world to see. Every morning everyone makes their way to line-up at the flag pole. David shows his spirit by waking us up with "Good Morning!" We begrudgingly respond "Good Morning!" We raise the American flag (once a year we MIGHT raise the Canadian flag) and we show our patriotic spirit by saying the Pledge of Allegiance. We enter the dining hall and a whirlwind of spirit, a kaleidoscope of cheers and chants, a plethora of pot banging and napkin shaking commences. These demonstrations of spirit are infectious and continue outside of the dining hall to bunks and fields.

I hear stories (though I've never had the privilege of seeing) the spirit of the Glick during "Inspections." He finds a way to make something so cumbersome, so tedious, so trivial into something memorable. His spirit is infectious! He takes his enthusiasm, his spirit wherever he goes and he gives it to others.

Whether on the fields or courts, the Playhouse or the Dining hall, the Spirit of Camp Starlight lives and breathes in every single person. It's what wakes you up in the morning (that and reveille), gets you through your day, and keeps you up at night talking with your kids about what they did that day. Spirit is what gets you through a 100 F day. Spirit is what gets you through a game you're losing 42-7. Spirit is what makes you come back to Camp Starlight year after year.

I should have gone pro...

As many people know, I originally came to camp to be a swim instructor/lifeguard/swim coach/BAMF! What people did not know (but would soon find out) was that I am an AMAZING athlete with ZERO coordination! It's like watching Helen Keller in the Daytona 500. Since CSL is generally a sports related camp (with an amazing arts & crafts as well), I realized this inadequacy fairly early in the summer. I had known since childbirth that I was not meant to play basketball or football. As a youth, I had a stint into soccer which no one would have ever guessed based on my ability to kick a ball at a 90 degree angle to myself while trying to kick forward. There were various other athletic endeavors that I wanted to pursue but one more than most...Tennis!

I had never played tennis before. My mom had bought me a racket when I was in the 8th grade because I wanted to try to join the high school team. I was on the court with her for 30 minutes before I realized I would never play the sport. I am not saying that I was bad but I think Stevie Wonder would have a better chance at winning the Cricket National Championships.

So there they were. Six brand spanking new courts and a beautiful pavilion to boot. There were new racquets for the kids (and the counselors who didn't bring their own) and a team of tennis specialists. It was my second chance at playing the sport I had given my entire attention span one summer day. I don't exactly remember my first lesson but I do remember that there were three balls vollied to me and I miss two of them...the third one made its way to the Front Office porch.

So after my initial lesson I was ready to take on the big guy Terrence himself. For those that don't know him, Terrence was the Head of Tennis. A large South African man who had been at camp for a million years. Of course, I didn't want to take him on by myself so a doubles match was set up. Terrence with a tennis specialist and me with a tennis specialist. I want to say that my tennis skills would rival Pete Sampras; that Rafael Nadal would whimper at my serving abilities; that Andre Agassi would sell his soul to the Grey Lady for my back hand. I want to say these things. And I shall! I was AMAZING!!! I had a 2% first-serve percentage. Every once and a while I'd actually return a ball that went over the net. But my back hand...my back hand was something special. Not only would my back hand get the ball back over the net, but it would land on the other side too...just two courts over!

There we were my partner and I, down 5 sets to 1. Terrence was serving and it was 30-30. One more serve to end the match and finish off an amazing career. Of course, Terrence had to be serving to me. All I can really remember of the next 4 seconds of my life were how slow they went. I saw him throw the ball into the air and it was like someone pushed the slow motion button on my life but it fell down at a rate much slower than 9.8 m/s/s! The serve was effortless and I remember closing my eyes and flinching.

Then it happened. Apparently in my stellar awkwardness my racket made solid contact with the ball. As usual, the trajectory of the ball made it look as if it was going completely out over the fences but something happened. A Miracle! As if the angel of tennis Arthur Ash himself came down and pushed the ball towards the Earth the ball landed...right behind Terrence...in the crossroads of the the sideline and the backline. It was in! The perfect return. Terrence was dumbfounded! I didn't finish the game...I left right then and there! On top! As it should be!

I Wanna Be Where the People Are

I was going to right an installment that was more sentimental but this topic just kept popping up in my head over and OVER again! Echoing in my cranium like a rock falling into a cave...the noise was deafening so I had to relieve the agony, the distress, the pain and divulge one of my favorite All-Camp events: The Miss Starlight Pageant!

I had first learned about the Miss Starlight Pageant in my interview process. A. Lee had given me an overview of some of the activities and for some reason (hmm...I wonder what that reason could be??) I was slightly drawn to this one particular event. When I arrived at camp I made it known that I was going to win this beauty contest. I had preened and prodded myself and had scouted out the girls bunks trying to find the one that I thought would lead me to victory. All my preparation had finally culminated when Miss Starlight finally came.

The Lee knew how much I wanted to win and loaned me a dress. My friend Bridgette let me borrow her wig. One of the girls let me borrow her glasses after my girls broke my glasses (an event that would happen many more times in my duration at camp.) I found a nice faux fur throw and some costume jewelry and my outfit was set. I made my way over to Bunk 12 (I think it was 12...to be honest I really can't remember at this point) and had them do my make-up. We realized with only 5 minutes left that my legs were not shaved. Let's jut say it took a really, really long time to do my make-up.

Being a swimmer my entire life had prepared me for this one singular moment. This defining event that would test my years of having to shave for a big meet. I had 5 minutes to make my legs silky, contest winning smooth. Realizing that I would be crunched for time I made the fatal decision of simply shaving the front of my legs. What was I suppose to do? I mean really?!

I jumped upon the Moonbuggy and took a ride to the Starlight Playhouse where I joined twenty-some other contestants all looking absolutely stunning in their new make-overs. After some unnecessary small-talk and a LOT of posing for the paparazzi we finally began to make the journey upstairs to start the contest. The preliminary round was every one's opportunity to introduce themselves. I was Veronica Fox. I trailer-trash debutante with a flair for fashion.

The judges sat at the end of the catwalk and had their score cards ready to pick those lucky souls who would advance to the next round. It is here that I made my fatal error. I had thought the judges were picking contestants who had actually made a dramatic change to look like women. I thought essentially it was a drag show. Oh no! It was much much more campy (all pun intended)! The premise of the contest was not who could look most like a woman but rather who could look the absolutely most ridiculous out of everyone. I was no match for this scenario. I was hot! Not a hot mess.

I didn't make it past the first round. I was destroyed. My friend Jeff won with his rendition of Ariel's "I Wanna Be Where the People Are" from Disney's "Little Mermaid." His sea-green outfit paired with a uni-brow and French accent was an easy bet. I learned from my mistakes and told myself "NEXT YEAR!!!" NEXT YEAR WAS MY YEAR!!!!!

Let the Rain Fall Down...

When I think back to my first summer one of the first thing that comes to me is the rain. I'm not talking just a few scattered showers or even a nice little thunderstorm. I'm talking Earth altering, river flooding, bridge destroying, they had to bring breakfast to us in the bunks rain. Rain that started the day the kids got there and did not stop for at least 72 hours. For someone who had never been to camp I had absolutely no idea what was going on. We were on top of a mountain. How were we going to get food? How were the kids going to Wayne County games? How was I going to make it to Teddy's? I was a glass case of emotion and I almost lost it right out of the gate.

The rain washed out bridges that we drove on to get to the local metropolis Hancock, NY. The rain destroyed homes and businesses such as the Cathedral de Teodoro's...also known as Teddy's Roadhouse. I remember the counselor meetings after line-up where we were told the town is still destroyed...no reason to go and we should probably just stay on camp. WHAT?! How was I suppose to get my double cheeseburger from McDs? How was I suppose to get my gummi sharks from the Getty? Again...glass case.

However, as with every storm there was a silver lining. While I was stuck in a bunk for three days I realize now that I wasn't the only one stuck. I had nine 13 year old boys as well as two other counselors trapped with me. While the kids had the luxury of knowing each other, I as well as my two co-counselors had no idea who anyone was. So what do nine boys and their three counselors do when the sky has opened up and there earth has all but disappeared? We whipped out a deck of cards and some poker chips and played Texas Hold'Em like we were on the Tour. Let's just say, as good as I thought I was at the game...I was no match to a thirteen year old with a Russian accent. Or a bald-headed football specialist. I got owned!

So while the rest of the bunk was wagering on the second hand of the game that I met my demise, I started to play my fall-back: Pokemon! I'm not talking the card game because I had just demonstrated my lack of skill with cards. No! I was playing the real thing on the then state of the art Nintendo GameBoy Advance. Now I had learned in high school that Pokemon was not the coolest past time to be had. So I played quietly on my bed until I was outed by one of my kids. Instead of making fun or jokes at my expense he asked to play one of my seven Pokemon games that I had brought for my GameBoy. Wanting to try to convince the kids to like me, and also realizing I could not possibly play all seven games at the same time I obliged his request.

Turns out, I'm not simply bad at card games but electronic games as well. I mean I had been playing this game for almost as long as these kids had been alive and they still owned me. I even chea...I mean I even used my masterful skills at bending the rules to my favor. I used all of my best moves, my best Pokemon, every ounce of knowledge I had about the creatures of Kanto. Yet still, every battle, my little gentlemen would simply faint.

Aside from the destruction of my self-esteem and the coming to terms that I'm lousy at playing most games, I realized that something else happened during those three days. I was able to spend more 1-on-1 time with my boys during those 72 hours than the entire duration of camp. We talked, we laughed, we got on each other's nerves but we became family. Josh was dad setting the rules down so there was not any confusion. I had to be the mom always cleaning up the mess left by living outdoors and tracking rain into the bunk. And Grant took the part of the jovial uncle who comes over and gets everyone riled up, then falls asleep on his baseball mitt.

Never again in the time I've spent at camp has it rained so much for so long. I remember talking about it the next year and finding out that my first summer was actually one of the driest years seen at Camp Starlight in many recent years. Eventually, the bridge from camp to Hancock was rebuilt. We had a countdown the next summer to the day that Teddy's Roadhouse would re-open. And yes, I did make it to McDonald's to get those double cheeseburgers I had been craving for so long. I never did win a game of poker but I did manage to eventually win a battle in Pokemon. Though, the scenario was drastically set in my favor and I may have still had to bend the rules a bit.

First Day Off EVER!!!!

Disclaimer: This blog is not suitable for anyone under the age of 18!

I remember my first day off ever like it was yesterday. I can say that because I don't really remember what happened yesterday...what I do remember were the key points and the amazing feeling I had by the time it was time to return to camp. But here is the best account of my first day off from camp.

Before the kids come to camp, the whole camp gets a day off. It's probably the most anticipated day off the entire summer to be honest. I mean think about it. You're a brand new counselor in a place hundreds of miles away from home and you don't really know anyone other than the few people you've met during the week long orientation. For an entire week you are moved from one orientation event to another. I remember the theme of my first orientation was "The Amazing Race." But then the day was almost upon us. I had met a few people, with the help of my guide, and had made plans to float down the Delaware River on some rafts, with some beers.

First, let me mention that I had never had an alcoholic beverage in my life. I was a wholesome little Army brat from rural Ohio who moved to a suburban neighborhood in TN. Alcohol wasn't even on my radar. But that's just a footnote.

We drove to Binghampton which housed the closest Wal-Mart around to buy rafts for the trip. We actually drove to Dick's Sporting Goods first but since they didn't have any rafts we drove across the parking lot to Wal-Mart. Not knowing exactly how many people were going on the fateful trip down the Delaware, the unlucky few buying the rafts all pitched in to buy enough rafts for the amount of people we thought were coming. Let's just say we underestimated by at least 15 people.

We also had to buy alcohol. Since I was underage I had no part in this. I had no plans of drinking since I was also driving a bunch of counselors. We had heard horror stories about counselors not making it back because of DUI or DWI. I was SCAAAARRED!!! But the other folks I was with buy several packs of various microbrews and we make our way to the shove off point.

We realized that where we were starting and where we were landing were very, very, very far apart so we devised a shuttle system to get all the cars to where we needed them to be for where we thought we were going to arrive. Let's just say Mother Nature had other plans. But eventually we all made it to the rafts ready to shove off into the over flowing Delaware River. I also forgot to mention that it had rained quite a bit during orientation. A pattern of weather that would welcome the kids in just a couple of days.

So we tie all the rafts together and luckily another group of counselors had showed up with some inner tubes otherwise we'd be in a heck of a lot of trouble. As it was we were putting three or four people in boats that shouldn't seat more than two. But we had to save a raft for the beer. It was an unwritten rule that I was unaware. When everyone got settled I was sans a raft. I had taken my newly purchased Hollister clothes back to my car (my car was the shuttle car so it was left at the pushing off point) so by the time I came back all the seats were taken. What do I do? I sit in the beer raft. No one objected since I had never drank before they thought the beer was safe. After all, I was driving so I wasn't going to partake.

Let's just fast forward several hours later, the beer raft was almost emptied and the rain began to fall pretty steadily so we decided to pull off a little early before our landing point. When I say it began to rain what I mean is that the clouds opened and began to empty all the precipitation ever held in the skies down upon us. We all begin to pull ashore and I attempted to stand up only to find that my legs don't work and I simply fall back down. See in those several hours I may have partaken in a couple of the chilled beverages that were accompanying me down the Delaware. By a couple, I lost count. I remember my friend Chris volunteered to drive my car which was an unthinkable event since I NEVER let anyone drive my car. It was my baby. I don't remember much of the rest of that day...just that I never did find my Hollister clothes.

What I do remember most vividly from that first day off were the conversations had, the friendships solidified and the laughing. We laughed and joked the entire way down. It was the beginning of an amazing summer but we had no idea what was in store for us. Most of us were camp virgins and had no hint of what would happen in just two days. But what we did know by the time that we were done with that trip was that no matter what was going to get off the bus two days later, we would deal with it together. We had become best friends. We had become family.

Ten for Two: The Beginning

So after my late night blog about the "young lad" who was losing sleep over one measly, little point, I'm yearning for a trip back to the 18461. I vividly remember my first trip up the one-mile driveway. It was about 6:30pm at night. It took only about 12 hours to drive 800 miles and another 1 hour to drive just 20 miles...I got lost...at least twice. But I remember pulling into the camp and being totally mesmerized...or cold...it was 85 degrees F in Nashville the day before I left. It was probably about 45 degrees F when I arrived at camp. I remember running to the trunk of my car to shuffle through one of my eight bags to find a sweatshirt. And then I met her. The woman who convinced me to come to Camp Starlight: Alyson Lee!

The first thing she did was give me a hug. I was slightly weirded out because I barely knew HER but I KNEW right away that I had arrived. I had found a special place. On top of the world. She asked how I was, how the trip went then immediately starting introducing me to the counselors who would become some of my best friends. Unfortunately, those people had just spent three weeks weed-whacking, laying sewer line, chipping paint only to go back and repaint. I don't exactly remember who I met that night. I was so tired all I asked was to go to bed. I was showed to my room...though not how to work the thermostat so I slept in all my blankets and my sleeping bag. It got colder than 45 that night.

I woke up the next day to find I had arrived 2 days earlier than I was suppose to be a camp for waterfront training. I woke up the next day to find out I had arrived on New Camper Day. I woke up the next day to find out I had absolutely no idea what was happening. So I was given a tour guide. Enter Mr. Collin Gumprecht. Ten feet tall All-American guy with a weird faux-hawk thing that I found out later never moved...even after sleeping...in water....nothing. I was told that I was suppose to follow this guy all day. It was the beginning of Collin's second summer and he was going to be a unit leader for lower camp. Having absolutely no idea what a unit leader was, I followed Collin around as we did odd jobs before the cars pulled up camp road with new campers and their families.

It was kind of fitting to be at camp on that day. That New Camper Day. These kids, like myself, were beginning a long, what would be seven week, journey for them away from the family and most of their friends. They would have very limited access to the outside world. They would be in a place which they would be unfamiliar. But I knew exactly how they felt. At twenty years old, only when I went to Kentucky Christian College for church camp had I ever been away from my family for a week. Even then, I was surrounded by my church friends and my church leaders. I had no idea what to expect for the eight weeks that I was going to be at camp.

But then there was Collin. Collin showed me the ropes that day. He let me follow him around, ask questions that must have seemed like common sense, and introduced me to the counselors who had already been there for three weeks. If I needed anything I went to him. He was my guide for the next two days. He became my first camp friend. From the outsiders point of view, it would seem he hadn't done anything special. But to me, just having someone to take the personal time to guide me through everything and actually talk to me was special.

I'll always remember that first interaction at camp. Looking back on it, I know it is one of the unlimited reasons I return to camp each year. Collin didn't return my second year and I realized I would have to be that guide for someone else. It was a responsibility I took and cherished. Collin did return though for our third year. And became one of the Three Amigos, but that's another installment of Ten for Two.

1 point heard round the world

So unless you have made the holy pilgrimage to 151 Starlight Lake Rd., Starlight, PA, 18461, you will not truly appreciate this blog. And even if you have made the journey you may not totally appreciate everything....So here's the story about how 1 little tiny point has kept many glorious hours of sleep away from me.

Picture it: August 2007. A young Puerto Rican boy (nicely tanned with sparkling blue eyes) is given the opportunity of which thousands of young children had dreamed. He was to lead Sing! While this young lad was no to be the Sing Leader, in a magical twist of fortune and some pulling of the strings of Fate he was able to Lead some 250 campers as well as an additional 100 counselors into battle. The scenes were set and the Mighty Super Blues were to do battle against the evil Game of White. Though the young man fought with all his superhuman strength he fell short against the loaded dice of the Game of White...3 points short in fact. This 3 point difference was called the "closest in Camp Starlight history!" The boy left the battlefield and found a nice tree to sit under. I believe it was a maple. The boy cried and vowed that next year it would be HIS songs that would be performed and HIS victory!!!! But the boy had a fear...the greatest fear possible. His fear is that he would lose...and lose by 1 single minuscule teeny tiny little point!!

Fast forward one year: June 2008. The boy arrives at his beloved haven of sanctity and piousness to begin his campaign to become "THE GREATEST SING LEADER (candidate) EVER!!!" While making daily announces to the glorious "powers that be" about how much he would love it if they would shine their sanctimonious gifts upon him and allow him the privilege of leading his very own Sing Team. Well June turned to July and July to August and then it happened. "Walk to the back of the dining hall but make it look like you're going to the Med Center." He knew this was it. He was going to be invited to a secret club that only four members were inducted every year. The most holy of holy organizations was about to accept him into their legions and he was to become a SING LEADER!!!

This young lad had shared his greatest fear with all of his closest friends including his partner in crime: is SING LEADER partner!!! Everything that was written, whether it be minuscule or masterpiece was given the "1 pt." branding. Everything! The scraps of paper the young lad would doodle on at 3am while trying to come up with words that rhymed with "triumph" or "glory." Even his partner would give the tattoo to her own doodle pads. But word of this fear got to the gods...

And then the fateful day came...after 2 days of delays! The day the young, youthful, valiant, handsome boy had been waiting for since he first heard of this sacred event. SING 2008!!!! The stages were set and Olympic White set up to conquer the New York Blue Team!!! The young stallion stood before his followers and led them to what was truly the most exceptional SING performance known to man...or so he thought. The gods had heard his fear and they were not going to let him escape without realizing it.

The scores came out. Olympic Whites won set!!!! N.Y.B.T win costumes, entrance, theme? MARCH???? There was no hope! Even if the Olympic Whites earned a perfect score on the greatest Alma Mater Camp Starlight had ever heard they would lose....by 1 point. The Olympic Whites earned a 99 on the Alma Mater. This 1 point angered the young lad. He knew that the Alma Mater deserved a perfect 100 because there wasn't a dry eye in the house. But he knew it didn't matter. The young, stunning boy looked up at his little brother and let out a smile..."I lost by 2 points." Then the final score....something had happened...a penalty against the N.Y.B.T.? but the final score resulted in the Olympic Whites losing by.....1 point!

The boy went from a sarcastically amused stature....to completely disheveled. He ran out of the theatre and into the arms of his big brother. For only the 3rd time in his young life the boy cried. The 2nd time being the year before. The "Closest Sing in Camp Starlight History" stood for one sing year until the new "Closest Sing in Camp Starlight History!" closed to the gap to one single point. That one point haunts the boy every night. Every night he asks what could he have done better. Should he have listened to the "King of the Gods" advice and made the choices he made. Or should he have just done it the way he wanted to do it and let it all work out the way it would have. Either way...1 point should not equal an untold amount of lost sleep :-/