Camp

Camp

Today, I spent the day at the American Museum of Natural History (AMHN). I got there at about 1:00 p.m. There were tons of camp groups wandering through the museum. I knew this would happen. This would piss off some museum goers. But I loved it.

I wandered through the mammal’s wing. A bunch of kids stood in front of the wolves. They shrieked, “Wolf”. They all tapped on the glass and yelled, “You can’t get me”. They all smiled and went to the next exhibit.

Most of these kids were day campers. I did see a group wearing t-shirts that said their camp hailed from the “Old Dominion” state. Maybe they were on trip in into the City that Never Sleeps.

I too, went to camp. Camp Chappegat (aka “Chappy Hill), part of Ten Mile River Scouts Camps, located in Narrowsburg, N.Y. Mine was summer camp. I lived there for many weeks during my summer. It was the greatest experience of my life. Nothing can replace. I was 12 when arrived on the Hill. Sometimes I still feel like I am 12, and on the Hill. I made more lifelong friends than I can ever count. I still speak to dozens of them everyday.

So while these kids in the AMNH were on a camp field trip, I thought back to the trips we took. We went on many. Yeah, we went to Hall of Fame in Cooperstown to pay our respects to team that the building was built for, the 27-Time World Champions. We went to Callicoon to bowl. We went to Action Park. I fell off the Alpine Slide. It was painful. And, who can forget our, Super Week banquet in El Monaco’s. Man how I miss the red sauce.

We enjoyed these trips. But I must say and I surely hope my fellow “Scouuuuuuts” will agree that our best trips were the ones we did right in the vicinity of our blessed camp.

We had bog hikes. What could be more fun than playing in a bog? We went to Father Meyers Swimming Hole. It had a giant tree with a rope tied around it. We climbed up the tree and grabbed the rope. We swung on it, until we fell into the swimming hole. We swam around a little and climbed right back up our tree.

On Saturdays we had leanto inspections and hiked out to Bob Landers. Most of us had the two hamburgers, fries and soft drink special. Then we hiked to the Delaware and Ten Mile Rivers to swim. We hiked back up to our beloved hill. We had a great BBQ and then our famous campfires. We had skits that would have won more Tony’s than any Broadway drama or musical. We were that talented.

TMR is huge. We went on many hikes. My favorites were lead by an alumnus. He used to come up and stay on the Hill each summer for about three weeks. He used to teach me all sorts of things about the camp. He became my mentor. I still consider him my leader.

He would take us to D-1. His camp. On the way, he would point out historic sites, the dining hall, old cabins and other stuff. Sadly, None of these buildings remain. Well one was actually moved to our Camp Museum in headquarters. He took us to the “Asshole”.

The Asshole is two large rocks with openings that resemble, the aforementioned. I visited about three summers ago. It is still there.

We went on other great trips in camp. We went to the old saw mill, we hiked through closed down sites and dreamed of what went on there.

Sadly, camp Chappy closed after 1988. But everyday, especially during the summer, I still dream about the fun we had there. Oh Chappy, boy do I miss you.


I would love to carry a scouuuuuuts’ trunk up the hill.
CH CH CH AP AP AP EG EG EG AT, Chappegat, Chappegat, Yeah Chappegat.

There are places I remember

There are places I remember “There are places I remember, though some have changed.” I think we all have those places. But only a select few have the Hill: Chappegat Hill (Chappy). It is located in Ten Mile River Scout Camp, Narrowsburg, N.Y. At one time it had been its own camp. When I was there it was part of Camp Kunatah. Chappy closed after the summer of ’88. Kunatah closed several years later. TMR is still running. But not at the capacity it used to. A few weeks ago, a brush fire hit Chappy. Other areas north of the hill were also hit. None of us Chappy campers knew the extent of the damage. We were told the man-made structures (there were not many left) survived. A few days ago, someone known as my leader went up to camp to do some work for the TMR Museum. Naturally, he went to Chappy. A visit to TMR is not a visit if you don’t spend time on the Hill. He saw first hand how this brush fire devastated the remains of the childhood stomping grounds of countless Scouts. He reported back to the individual that served as the chairman of the Troop committee and assistant scoutmaster during the summer camp season. Immediately an email was sent to our scoutmaster and myself. We were devastated. Within a few hours our, ASM sent an email to dozens of former campers. Now some of us are still in touch with each other on a daily basis. Some of us haven’t been in touch in years. But as soon at that email went out everyone was in tears. For us, Chappy is where we grew up. Hundreds upon hundreds of emails flew. We were all devastated. We all started talking about our favorite Chappy moments. These moments included famous camp sayings, activities and more important our teen friendships. I brought up my memories of being the camp vampire. I used to stay up all night. Very often, I would sit at the picnic table by the Palace (the office) in the wee hours of the night. We talked about our famous dead fish fights on our canoe trips. You see our SM would pile up dead fish into his canoe. Anyone who paddled by was fair game to be whacked in the head, chest, or limbs with a dead fish. Other memories included movie night usually the mindless 80s movies. Of course, I own many of them and watch them religiously. We talked about our famous Action Park trips. I fell off the Alpine slide in ’86. We talked about the red stuff that our favorite Italian restaurant, El Monaco’s, poured onto everything, even the salad. The red stuff was their marinara sauce. Across from El Monaco’s was Candy Cone. A cute little ice cream shack with two broken video games. I visited in 1999. It was still the same. Sadly, these places, like our Hill are gone. In 1984, I scored the winning run for the Sigh Figh Space Gators patrol. We won the softball game and that run put us over the top and made us the Chappy Olympic champs. I still have my Gold Medal. In ’85 a few campers and I made much fun of the kid that used to eat his feet. To punish us, our SM made us clean up the whole blow out party. We spent the night cleaning the dining hall and scrubbing lots of pots. We had a great time. Over the last few days, we all shared timeless memories. Of course one particular area we talked about was the latrine. The camp staff torched the precious latrine shortly after camp closed. But in our minds it is still our hub. One camper spent his entire summer sitting on his seat. It was his social network. This was way before Facebook or Linkedin. Well I can go on for thousands of pages. But you get the point. We love camp. We are saddened by the recent turn of events. But maybe it is for the better. We are not there anymore. Our memories will live forever. Nature will rebuild this beautiful site. One day, some of us will take our kids to see where we grew up. It’ll look different. But our spirit will be felt.

There are places I remember “There are places I remember, though some have changed.” I think we all have those places. But only a select few have the Hill: Chappegat Hill (Chappy). It is located in Ten Mile River Scout Camp, Narrowsburg, N.Y. At one time it had been its own camp. When I was there it was part of Camp Kunatah. Chappy closed after the summer of ’88. Kunatah closed several years later. TMR is still running. But not at the capacity it used to. A few weeks ago, a brush fire hit Chappy. Other areas north of the hill were also hit. None of us Chappy campers knew the extent of the damage. We were told the man-made structures (there were not many left) survived. A few days ago, someone known as my leader went up to camp to do some work for the TMR Museum. Naturally, he went to Chappy. A visit to TMR is not a visit if you don’t spend time on the Hill. He saw first hand how this brush fire devastated the remains of the childhood stomping grounds of countless Scouts. He reported back to the individual that served as the chairman of the Troop committee and assistant scoutmaster during the summer camp season. Immediately an email was sent to our scoutmaster and myself. We were devastated. Within a few hours our, ASM sent an email to dozens of former campers. Now some of us are still in touch with each other on a daily basis. Some of us haven’t been in touch in years. But as soon at that email went out everyone was in tears. For us, Chappy is where we grew up. Hundreds upon hundreds of emails flew. We were all devastated. We all started talking about our favorite Chappy moments. These moments included famous camp sayings, activities and more important our teen friendships. I brought up my memories of being the camp vampire. I used to stay up all night. Very often, I would sit at the picnic table by the Palace (the office) in the wee hours of the night. We talked about our famous dead fish fights on our canoe trips. You see our SM would pile up dead fish into his canoe. Anyone who paddled by was fair game to be whacked in the head, chest, or limbs with a dead fish. Other memories included movie night usually the mindless 80s movies. Of course, I own many of them and watch them religiously. We talked about our famous Action Park trips. I fell off the Alpine slide in ’86. We talked about the red stuff that our favorite Italian restaurant, El Monaco’s, poured onto everything, even the salad. The red stuff was their marinara sauce. Across from El Monaco’s was Candy Cone. A cute little ice cream shack with two broken video games. I visited in 1999. It was still the same. Sadly, these places, like our Hill are gone. In 1984, I scored the winning run for the Sigh Figh Space Gators patrol. We won the softball game and that run put us over the top and made us the Chappy Olympic champs. I still have my Gold Medal. In ’85 a few campers and I made much fun of the kid that used to eat his feet. To punish us, our SM made us clean up the whole blow out party. We spent the night cleaning the dining hall and scrubbing lots of pots. We had a great time. Over the last few days, we all shared timeless memories. Of course one particular area we talked about was the latrine. The camp staff torched the precious latrine shortly after camp closed. But in our minds it is still our hub. One camper spent his entire summer sitting on his seat. It was his social network. This was way before Facebook or Linkedin. Well I can go on for thousands of pages. But you get the point. We love camp. We are saddened by the recent turn of events. But maybe it is for the better. We are not there anymore. Our memories will live forever. Nature will rebuild this beautiful site. One day, some of us will take our kids to see where we grew up. It’ll look different. But our spirit will be felt.

First Game of the Season

We all have something we’ve been counting down the days till it arrives. Let me preface this by saying, I am super active. I see two-four Broadway shows per month. I regularly hit all the top museums. The Guggenheim is my fave. But nothing beats my first game of the season. I’ve been dreaming of this since the day, I paid Ticketmaster the ridiculous but mandated service charge. Well today I got there. As the four went above ground heading toward 161 Street, my heart pounded and my blood rushed with excitement. I knew I was getting to the Stadium. For those of that don’t know me. Or don’t know me well. I am a very ritualistic person. It could stem from Judaism. Or very likely stems from the rituals I participated in the Order of the Arrow when I grew up. I’m not sure if did or ever will. But that’s for another post. But I realized as I went down the stairs in the train station, I probably started my first traditions in the House that Ruth built. At each game, I eat a variety of foods. But according to tradition, I must eat them in a certain order. My eating habits depend on the inning. The required food must be finished by the bottom of the prescribed inning. My mother once said, I have more traditions than, Tevye. Today, I realized I even walk down the same flight of stairs off the platform at 161 Street. I exit through one of two turnstiles and always climb up the same flight of stairs to exit the station. Upon exiting the station, I took my usual gaze at the Stadium. Then I crossed the street to walk on hallowed grounds, the site where the real Stadium, the House that Ruth Built lived. It opened April 18, 1923. Babe Ruth inaugurated it with its first home run. Yeah, he made the stadium’s first error that day. Even the most important ballplayer in the sport’s history was human. After they tore down the world’s holiest sports venue, they promised to build a park with baseball fields on its soil. That park is now open. I watched a little bit of some little league games and walked over to the park. There were some kids on the playground. They probably weren’t even born when the Stadium stood. I hope their parents told them what was on the grounds of their park. I strolled into the new Stadium. I went to Monument Park and saluted the baseball greats, Ruth, Gehrig, the Clipper, Martin, Mantle, the Scooter and many more. As mentioned, I have required eating habits. This dates to my first game in ’77 with my dad. The Yankees won it all that year. We had hot dogs, knishes and Pepsis. To this day, I must eat that and finish it by the conclusion of the first inning. At times finding potato products had been tough. I used to bring Wise chips. But in the new Stadium you can find more potatoes than you ever wanted. Fries are prevalent. But at a ballgame, I want a knish. I knew the Glatt stands had greasy ones. I came up a different ramp than usual. Oh, how I get toward my seat makes no difference. It is not part of the tradition. You must have some freewill. My eyes zone in on some people in Stadium concession stand uniforms wearing tzitzits. You don’t have to be Vulcan to make the logical deduction that they would be manning the Glatt stands. I hiked over, got my hot dog and knish. They were super nice. They gave me a small paper cup to fill up by the water fountain adjacent from their stand for Netilat Yadayim (hand washing prior to eating bread). I bought my Stadium cup Pepsi, peanuts, washed and hiked over to my seat. I dove into my hot dog, knish and chugged my soda. As usual, I finished with about 30 minutes before the fist pitch. We all stood for the National Anthem. As it played, I looked up at the sky. My mind was filled with images of a photo of my grandfather wearing his U.S. Army Officer’s uniform. I can’t believe June 26 will be his first Yazhreit. On that fateful day, I was sitting in the Stadium at Old Timer’s Day when for some reason, I walked away from my seat during the bottom of the first. I rarely leave my seat until the end of the fifth. I saw I had a VM from mom. I played it. She frantically said, “Call me”. I did. I got the news. Today’s game began, C.C. pitched really well. Jeter, Granderson, Jones and even A-Rod made the pinstripes proud. Thanks to them, we didn’t even need to play Enter Sandman. I finished the game with all of my traditions and caught the four. I will be attending 6 more games. I hope I am 7-0. More important is my dream of our four game sweep of the NL team on Oct. 28, in the fall classic. This will happen.

ELEM: Active to Proactive

Active to Proactive

March 20, 2012


As a passenger in the first car to arrive at Lenore Ruben’s stunning Hamptons home, I was excited for what was ahead of me. We walked up to the front door and were greeted by Lenore, the founder/president of ELEM/YOUTH in Distress in Israel, who was taking care of some last minute things to wake the house up from its winter sleep.

The fireplace was lit. Our great chefs headed to the kitchen and began to make our Shabbat dinner. Candles were lit, wine was poured and were off to a tantalizing dinner of tilapia, chicken, salads and lots of other good stuff. Thanks, Guy and Shira for taking the lead and making everyone happy.

After dinner, we sat by the warmth of the fireplace. Rinat led us in a “get to know you”, Bingo game. We found out all sorts of tidbits about each other to make us closer. For example, the Lion, former Sen. Ted Kennedy, personally handled one of our activists’ visa problems. Most of us probably knew who began talking at 9 months. The night continued on. We all just sat and chatted. Eventually, we went to bed. Nothing is better than summer camp style sleeping. In other words, air mattresses were scattered about the floor.

We woke up to a breakfast that could have fed the masses at any hotel. Once again, our chefs prepared a dazzling feast that included, French toast, bagels, salads, juices and eggs.

Rinat directed us outdoors to Lenore’s spacious yard, where we conducted our warm up games. We spent some time forming pyramids. The geometry got a little tough for a moment. But we did it. We tossed a ball or two around and played catch. But we had rules on how we had to approach our games of catch.

The views we were treated to were spectacular. The swans swimming in the lake looked so peaceful. To the happiness of some, we went back inside where it was a bit warmer. We continued to play our trust building games.

Rinat challenged us to answer what our goals were for our group. We all agreed we want to raise awareness about our mission in order to provide more help for distressed Jewish and Arab Israeli youth.

Our challenges continued. One of our activists stood in the middle of our circle and had to free fall into the circle. It reminded me of my old fraternity days. But much credit goes to Rinat for making this more civil. We were not free fallin’ while blindfolded off the top row of the bleachers on SUNY New Paltz’s “Tripping Fields”.

But rest assured, we were shortly blindfolded. One of us was blindfolded. The other was not. We had to guide each other from various points and avoid the many obstacles, while trying to find candy. The games continued.

We did a few other exercises and then got into a contentious discussion about ELEM-Entry's structure and the way some things are run.

Let’s face it, no family gathering is free of contention. But if we didn’t care about and believe in each other we probably wouldn’t have gotten as angry. We were just trying to come to some agreements. Hey, it is human nature to have these squabbles. Every volunteer group has them.

We had a brief break. Following it, we were treated to an amazing selection of hot dogs, beef kabobs, Asian chicken and much more. We were well fed before we took the stage.

We got to try our hand at drawing in a take of everyone’s favorite drawing game, Pictionary. We got to dress up and act out a few scenes. Once the opening acts concluded, “dress up” Karaoke night began.

After a debate about song selection, my team picked Right Said Fred’s “I’m Too Sexy”. Our song and dance routine scored the maximum twenty points. It was well way too sexy for paper or my shirt…

Bedtime arrived. I was lucky enough to wake up super early and watch the sun rise over the lake.

Thanks, Lenore for once again lending us your space. More important, thanks for being there with us and sharing your inputs and observations.

The inspiring retreat ended. But what didn’t end, was the goal of strengthening ELEM-Entry to make many children’s lives better. We have our work cut out for us. But with the teamwork we’ve been building there’s no doubt we can hit that

101-Depeche Mode

101

Earlier today, I sat on the couch and watched my Depeche Mode 101 DVD. That’s the concert documentary that DM put out in ’89. It features the amazing tunes they played during the Music for the Masses tour.

As, I heard Dave Gahan’s voice sing “Master & Servant”, I was blasted back to the day when life was simpler and in some ways more fun. In some ways it was not. We still have our masters and servants.

Watching Martin L Gore’s solo of “Somebody” brings the same depression I had when he sung that tune, while I was wishing for somebody back in high school.

Depeche Mode is one of the bands that will always remain honest and current. Their songs will always touch one’s heart and soul. Whether, you’re traveling down “Route 66”, worrying about “Blasphemous Rumors”, worried that “Everything Counts “ (I sure do) or “Just Can’t Get Enough”.

I remember listening to their cassettes nonstop and making Depeche Mode mixes for my car. In one of my autos the tape deck was on its dying days. The only tape it played flawlessly was a Depeche Mode mix. The same thing happened years later in another vehicle’s CD player.

I remember wearing all black. Well that hasn’t completely changed. I’ve seen them dozens of times. I once waited hours on a line at the now defunct Tower Records to meet them. That was in 2004. They signed one of their new releases.

I got about 90 seconds to talk to Andrew Fletcher, Martin and David. I remember begging Martin to play songs from Speak and Spell (even though) that was really a Vince Clarke, a DM founder who left after their first release. He founded Yaz, ran and has thankfully found a home in Erasure. I discovered this band in the health lodge at T.M.R. I wasn’t the sick one. I was with one of my campers who needed to be in that awful place. We had some strange nurses.

Anyway, back to my conversations with DM. I continued to beg them to go back to around 1984. They just smiled and said we’ll think about it. I saw them a few days later at the Garden. They didn’t take my requests. But they dazzled us anyway.
While, I was sitting outside of Tower Records, I chatted with a cute girl, who was at least 10 years younger than me. She was a 90s DM fan. I am a 80s DM fan. Well, I’m a fan of their music. But I gravitate to their 1980s tunes. This woman did the same for their 1990’s music. She was in love with Martin. She had a tattoo stating that. Her dream was for him to kiss her on it. Never happened. But she got meet him and couldn’t have been happier.

Another thing that flashed into my mind was the great way we dressed back then. I already mentioned all black. But we cropped our hair as close to our heads as we could. I used to bring in pictures of them and O.M.D. to my haircutter. I called him Professor Joe. He tried his best to make me look like them.

Eventually, I made it up to New Paltz. Us New Wavers used to go Berties in Poughkeepsie. We all had to wear bracelets saying we were under 21. But we wore our black outfits and danced all night to Depeche Mode, the Cure, the Smiths, Echo and the Bunnymen, New Order and the other greats from the 80s. I wasn’t a good dancer. That hasn’t changed.

Man I miss those days. If only we could all be “Stripped” down to the bone. In other words, speak just for me and make decisions without your television on.

So, “Now this is Fun”. “It is More than a Party”. As for me, I’m looking for a “Policy of Truth,” while doing my best to remember, “People are People”.

Subway

Subway

For millions of New Yorkers, the subway is our best friend. But it is also our number one enemy. Yes, going underground is the most reliable, inexpensive form of transportation. With the exception of traveling to Staten Island, it can pretty much get you anywhere you want. I documented the horror of going there a few weeks ago.

There have been lots of budget cuts and track work. It seems the wait in between trains is a little longer. The trains are more crowded. But we are New Yorkers so we live with it. We complain about it.

How can we make subway travel more enjoyable? There are many ways. Bear in mind it is only in recent years that I would actually sit while riding the subway. I was always afraid of who would be sitting next to me. Not fearful of crime. I was fearful of another crime, body odor. Another crime is the sound of awful music blasting from one’s iPod.

Perfect example, the other day, I sat on the train and was completely zoned into the New York Times magazine. Standing a few feet away from me was a woman in her forties. She was loudly humming to the trash that she was listening to.
It happens everyday. I kept on reading. Then she sat next to me. My reading enjoyment ceased. I am not sure if this woman ever showered. Boy did she smell. I finished my magazine and jumped out of my seat.

I walked a few feet away in the train’s car and could breathe. I did hold my nose until I finished reading. But now, I was happy again. The R-train pulled into 49th Street. I was happy to get off. I normally walk like a racecar. But for some reason I chose to walk slowly. Perhaps I was so much calmer because I was nowhere near the smelly humming lady.

I proceeded toward the turnstiles. I was aghast when I heard her awful humming. I looked behind me. The woman was only two footsteps away. I kicked my walk into high gear. I raced through the turnstiles, up the steps and was on 49th Street and home free.

We’ve all experienced this. My suggestions to make subway travel more enjoyable are to create cars for people with annoying habits, i.e. singing, cutting their nails, dancing and preaching. Of course there should be cars for smokers. Yes, I know smoking has been banned from the trains for many years. This vile habit should continue to be off limits. Those that choose to enjoy their cancer sticks before swiping their MetroCards should be forced to ride separately from nonsmokers.
Did you ever sit next to a smoker on the train? They have the “smoker body odor”. It is gross. Sometimes you wind up smelling like smoke, too.

Anyway, it is time to go. I have a train to catch.