(This counts as a good time)
My memories of Scouts start with when I was putting on my Cub Scout uniform to go to the first meeting. It was exciting to have a shirt and weird handkerchief thing that you used to secure the yellow bandanna, it was sweet!!!! (I get the appeal for parents, I don’t want to brag but I am sure I looked good in the uniform, also the fact the adults are forced to wear that outfit ever is one of the reasons Boy Scouts is weird) I was ready to go see all my other friends that were going to be at the meeting. (Important to note that in no way was I out to make new friends, I was never and have never been that brave socially) When I got there it was everything I thought it would be we get a book that will help us earn patches or badges? (I am going with patches from here on) and there are a lot of patches. Of course as a kid you don’t realize the amount of work that is going to be required to earn all these cool looking patches you just see the kid on the book that has them all. Pretty sure I left that meeting thinking this is going to be an amazing experience, but honestly I realized it wasn’t all that great pretty quick.
The Good Times
(There had to be some right?)
Two words, Pinewood Derby. You get a block of wood and you get to make a car to race against everyone else. FUCKING AWESOME. Really thought it was only great because my Dad ended up “helping” me build it. Basically I drew some awful design that cut out looked like…………well it looked like a kid who sucked at drawing, had tried his hand at drawing an awesome car. (So basically it looked like anything but a car) My dad and I spent about 3 weeks working on these cars (this includes putting graphite on the wheels every day for the last 2 weeks). In the end my car ended up looking somewhat like a car mostly because it had wheels on it, but those damn wheels would spin for what seemed like forever (In fact I would like to think that if the people running this Derby had been serious about it they would have disqualified my car). When it was race day my car destroyed everyone’s ( important to note that I didn’t even know I was doing good because after I saw my car race in its first heat I got bored and went to play with my other scout friends) and I ended up winning the whole derby. First prize was a big wood trophy to put your car on top of this was of course better than the small wood trophies everyone else got…………..Seriously way to spend the big bucks there cub scouts. (When I was quitting I learned the older scouts made the trophies, which helped explain the less than stellar quality of the trophies)
The Not So Good Times
(Seriously though it sucked)
There were many many things that I never did well as a kid; going to the house of someone I didn’t like and working in groups were at the top of the list. Thankfully for me Scouts required me to do this on a weekly basis. (I think it was weekly…..it felt like it was daily). I hated these meetings. During one, the prize we got for completing our group exercise was an apple. (Don’t get me wrong I love apples. I have them in my fridge right now, but seriously I just went through some miserable crappy group activity and my award was an apple. Hey adults running this thing KIDS HAVE APPLES AT HOME) This is the first event I remember that made me start hating scouts. I remember getting the apple and thinking “fuck this I want out”. I looked at my friend who had the same expression on his face. While the adults were trying to figure out the next activity we were sent out to play tag. Fortunately, we were sent to the front yard and I saw an opportunity. I whispered to my friend as we were walking to the front “Let’s make a break for it and just go home” (don’t worry our houses were just down the street) So tag starts and my friend and I kind of play along, then right as the kid who was it ran away from us my friend and I took off at a sprint for home. Unfortunately for us that kid seemed to think we were still playing tag and started to chase us down. My friend being of sounder mind than me ducked into some bushes and disappeared, I knew I was finished. If I ran home I would get told on. So I let the kid catch me and went back to finish the meeting hating the world for forcing me to suffer like this (my friend ended up getting away and going home, I think they called his house but I don’t remember if he got I trouble or not. I do know I have never been more jealous of him than I was that night)
Camping
(The beginning of the end)
By 5th grade I was finally reaching my breaking point. I was ready to get out of scouts, but I didn’t really know how to do it without a parental confrontation. Making things worse there was a big camping trip coming up. (looking back on it now I remember my parents telling me that someone was going to make Chili and at the time I loved chili so I am pretty sure my parents were using that to try an make me want to go) So it is the week of the camping trip and as it gets closer and closer to the weekend I am quickly getting depressed. Then as luck would have it Thursday night I get sick. (I threw up in the middle of the night) Ha ha ha ha ha all my prayers had been answered (Seriously though I probably got sick from stressing about the camping trip) One problem though I had a spelling test the next day and while I felt slightly ill I didn’t want to miss this test. (I had missed one earlier in the year and didn’t do as well when I took it later on and yes I do know this makes me sound a little crazy) So I go to school and actually puke again right before the test begins, come back take the test then tell my teacher that when he excused me to go to the bathroom I puked. (Honest to god true story he even talked to my mom about it at parent teacher conferences telling her how dedicated I was to school) Victory for me. I take my test get to go home and yes I miss the drive out to the campsite therefore missing the camping trip. All is well with the world in my eyes, then as I am going to bed Friday night my mom says “well if you are feeling better tomorrow morning Dad can drive you to meet up with everyone for camping”….fuuuuuuuccccccccckkkkkkkkkk. The next morning I don’t have any vomit in me and I grudgingly get in the car. (The actual drive was nice, talking to my dad asking him some random questions about the great state of Colorado
When I arrive at camp I find out that Friday had been spent with the older Boy Scouts preparing for a great game of capture the flag. Since this was our first camping trip the “Cool” kids (they all had nicknames too that we had to use when the game started I think a good amount of them were from Top Gun to be honest maybe all of them were) were going to let us be on their team. I was less than psyched, new people new location telling me what to do. When the game started our job was to watch the base, so basically we sat there while these overzealous kids dressed in army fatigues and war paint went and captured the flag. (I would like to point out that while my team won I am pretty sure these idiot kids cheated the whole time I don’t really remember the rules to capture the flag but I am pretty sure they broke all of them)
After all the “excitement” it was time for dinner. I knew that while so far camping at been as shitty as I thought it would be the fact that I was about to enjoy some chili gave this trip a glimmer of hope. Then dinner time arrives and I ask for some chili they pour it out of a thermos and I am immediately concerned. It came out of the thermos looking like soup. I told myself to remain calm maybe I was just imagining things. They hand me my cup of “chili” and I quickly realize that this stupid moron’s version of “chili” is beef stew. I knew I couldn’t throw it in his stupid fat face but I wanted to. (Seriously if that jackass is still calling whatever that shit was chili I hope someone has had the guts to call him an idiot)
Basically this means I am going without dinner.(This would happen at home from time to time since I was and am a picky eater and yes I know my kids will be worse than me because karma pays attention to these things) Which means at this point my mind is made up, camping was all the terrible things I thought it would be and more. Then, as all the adults are finishing dinner they have the nerve to tell us we have to do the dishes. Automatically I think, ‘fuck that I didn’t even eat anything’. I express my displeasure by pointing out that while I held one cup with a spoon in it I never actually used it, while everyone else was enjoying helping after helping of this poison. I get the classic response where they tell me I have to. I respond by going and sitting in my tent, wondering how far of a walk it would be from this campsite to my house(My go to when I am miserable is to just leave. I have walked many miles in my lifetime because of this)
The Lesson
That was then end of scouts for me. I think there was another meeting or two but I knew I was out after camping ended up being as stupid as I thought it would be. So if I have a son that is anything like me when he wants to join scouts here is what I am going to say, “Son, the lows outweigh the highs, you likely won’t meet anyone you will like, most the adults in charge are idiots and most of what you learn will be irrelevant when you get older. So go play some Nintendo and let’s forget you ever brought up the idea joining Scouts” (ok probably not………but it would be the humane thing to do)
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