The Camping BS continues

Boy Scouts are helpful, courteous, and certifiable.

By Jody Worsham

All rights are reserved for certificates of certifiability.

Once we had registered for the granny and me campout, we were assigned to Camp #5. We headed for the camp map conveniently located nearby.  Obviously the Boy Scout who made the map had never been to Six Flags, Disney World, or a mall.  There was no dot or arrow saying “You are Here”.  I guess he figured that if we were standing there, then we would know we were there.  With no way to orient ourselves to the map, I looked for a Boy Scout.

Boy Scouts are helpful, so I stopped the first one I saw.  He led me down the garden path until he admitted he didn’t know where we were, so he turned us over to another boy scout who led us in the opposite direction past some buildings.

Boy Scouts are courteous.  This one asked if he could pull my can.  I was about to tell him I was not an old lady who needed help crossing the street when  I glimpsed my reflection in a nearby window.  Instead I said “Sure.”  After a mile of bumping, dragging, and stumbling with our semi-rolling garbage can, we arrived at Camp #5.  We quickly claimed a spot, erected our tent, and were off for all the activities.

Boy Scouts are certifiable. I know this because at the beginning of every activity, the Scout Master in charge would begin with “I am a certified instructor. I have had x number of hours training in__”  whatever the activity was.  It seems you can’t just use common sense; you have to be certified.  The sling shot activity was a perfect example.  First the Scout Master in charge began with “I have had 12 hours of sling shot training. I am certified in Sling Shot. Safety .”  I’m thinking is this guy stupid or something?  Did it really take him 12 hours to learn that hard objects in a sling shot can be dangerous?  Release the pouch, don’t release the sling shot?  Stand behind the person with the sling shot?  Pull the pouch toward your body not away from it?  After our certified instructions, we fired our five pieces of dog food at the pie plate target and preceded to the next activity, BB guns.

Again the Scout Master began with “I have had 18 hours training in BB guns.  I am certified.”  I’m thinking my boy has had three times that much training since he has been shooting BB guns since he was six following strict gun safety rules and supervision from my husband.  Then a Boy Scout read the posted list of rules.  l) Don’t point your gun at anybody.  2)  Remove the safety before shooting.  And I’m thinking “Has common sense totally disappeared in America today?”  I guess it has because we had to crawl under a low table and  lie on our stomachs  before we could load our bb gun, cock it and fire.  This was to keep the shooter from swinging his gun around and pointing it at somebody.  This was not a problem for me.  I couldn’t swing anything anywhere.  In fact, I was afraid they were going to have to get a fork lift to get me out from under the table.  We shot our five BB’s and I somehow got out from under the table with a minimum of splinters.

As we headed for other sessions in archery, bridge walking, crafts, rope ladder climbing, and fishing; each with its own certified instructor, the storm clouds were gathering. I wondered if there was a Certified Storm Watcher in the group.  I would soon find out.

Continued in next week's blog.