Sylvia was a little upset with me for teasing her about the gingerbread a while back, and even though something is happening to Sylvia right now that is terribly funny, I think I will pick on someone else today. Of course when I say she was upset I mean that she said she was upset, then she hit me on my shoulder, then she smiled that adorable smile that I just love to stare at. She either wants me to continue teasing her or she doesn't quite understand what would get me to stop. If she was really upset this would be a full retraction where I claimed, as they do at the end of movies, the scenarios depicted here are false and bear no intentional similarity to persons living or dead (or undead if I started writing about zombies). Also, you would be able to tell that I was writing this while sitting in the dog house in the backyard.
I'm not...let's start talking about Craig.
This is actually a summer memory from a hot northern California camping trip many years ago. Did I say hot? Scalding, would be a little more honest. Scalding? Ok, if I dropped a steel bar on the ground it would have melted into a tiny little puddle of silver. This was the temperature of the campground that Craig's parents took us to. I didn't mind. It meant that Craig and I had an excuse to walk to the snack bar window at the main entrance and get soft serve ice cream cones...every day. Of course we could have gotten them every hour and still not been cool enough. Did I mention that it was hot?
Enough of that. Craig's family was nice enough to take me camping with them a few years. They would always go to Burney Falls and I loved it! I did! I really did! But one year they weren't so convinced. Our story happened that year.
We were camping like always and it was as hot as it had ever been, but this year I wasn't feeling 100%. I forget what it was but I remember that I was a little more quiet than my normally introverted self. I'm pretty sure Craig's parents were sure that I was having a miserable time and were a little worried about me. Let me take care of this right now:
Mr. and Mrs. Kaul, I thoroughly enjoyed all the times we were together and I was thrilled to be included in your family.
So anyway, we were about halfway into the week-long trip when we were all sitting around the campfire. (I know I said it was hot. It's a camping thing. Try it, you'll like it.) Unlike most of my stories I have no idea about the details surrounding the main event. We were probably talking. Most likely there were marshmallows. Decisions were being made about when to fish Hat Creek and when to fish Lake Britton. We probably saw a tiny nearly see-through scorpion or two in the waning light. And then out of no where Craig said, "It ripped."
Everyone looked at him wondering where that came from. While I don't remember the conversation, I do remember that it had nothing to do with things that might rip; not now, or ever. Since he didn't provide any context, the conversation continued. Back to the similarity of Crystal Lake and how we didn't really want to fish there since the last scene of the original "Friday the 13th" had taken place on a lake like that. More marshmallows....then Craig.
"It ripped some more..."
Now he, and his cryptic sentences, had our complete attention. Everyone turned to see what on Earth he was talking about. I grew up watching Quincy, Columbo, and Ellory Queen. I was as ready as the next guy to solve a riddle. It didn't help. There was no time. As soon as everyone looked Craig's way he went from sitting on a stool to sitting on the dirt as fast as gravity could take him. It was like he was the Coyote just outwitted by the Road Runner but he wanted to announce to all of us that he only just realized there was no longer a solid ground under him. Poooooomf! Down he went! The canvas on the director chair style stool he sat on had officially seen its last camping trip.
And I started laughing. Not, tee hee, oh my wasn't that amusing. (in a British accent for some reason) I erupted with laughter on top of laughter. I could only stop long enough to repeat, "It ripped! It ripped some more!" and then start all over again like it was happening over and over just for my own personal instant replay! I forgot about not feeling well. Mr. and Mrs. were now certain that I wasn't going to try to hitchhike home. And I had a new memory to access whenever I want to just really bring a smile to my face. I also have a story to tell every time I see a camper bring a director chair stool to the campfire.
I'm not...let's start talking about Craig.
This is actually a summer memory from a hot northern California camping trip many years ago. Did I say hot? Scalding, would be a little more honest. Scalding? Ok, if I dropped a steel bar on the ground it would have melted into a tiny little puddle of silver. This was the temperature of the campground that Craig's parents took us to. I didn't mind. It meant that Craig and I had an excuse to walk to the snack bar window at the main entrance and get soft serve ice cream cones...every day. Of course we could have gotten them every hour and still not been cool enough. Did I mention that it was hot?
Enough of that. Craig's family was nice enough to take me camping with them a few years. They would always go to Burney Falls and I loved it! I did! I really did! But one year they weren't so convinced. Our story happened that year.
We were camping like always and it was as hot as it had ever been, but this year I wasn't feeling 100%. I forget what it was but I remember that I was a little more quiet than my normally introverted self. I'm pretty sure Craig's parents were sure that I was having a miserable time and were a little worried about me. Let me take care of this right now:
Mr. and Mrs. Kaul, I thoroughly enjoyed all the times we were together and I was thrilled to be included in your family.
So anyway, we were about halfway into the week-long trip when we were all sitting around the campfire. (I know I said it was hot. It's a camping thing. Try it, you'll like it.) Unlike most of my stories I have no idea about the details surrounding the main event. We were probably talking. Most likely there were marshmallows. Decisions were being made about when to fish Hat Creek and when to fish Lake Britton. We probably saw a tiny nearly see-through scorpion or two in the waning light. And then out of no where Craig said, "It ripped."
Everyone looked at him wondering where that came from. While I don't remember the conversation, I do remember that it had nothing to do with things that might rip; not now, or ever. Since he didn't provide any context, the conversation continued. Back to the similarity of Crystal Lake and how we didn't really want to fish there since the last scene of the original "Friday the 13th" had taken place on a lake like that. More marshmallows....then Craig.
"It ripped some more..."
Now he, and his cryptic sentences, had our complete attention. Everyone turned to see what on Earth he was talking about. I grew up watching Quincy, Columbo, and Ellory Queen. I was as ready as the next guy to solve a riddle. It didn't help. There was no time. As soon as everyone looked Craig's way he went from sitting on a stool to sitting on the dirt as fast as gravity could take him. It was like he was the Coyote just outwitted by the Road Runner but he wanted to announce to all of us that he only just realized there was no longer a solid ground under him. Poooooomf! Down he went! The canvas on the director chair style stool he sat on had officially seen its last camping trip.
And I started laughing. Not, tee hee, oh my wasn't that amusing. (in a British accent for some reason) I erupted with laughter on top of laughter. I could only stop long enough to repeat, "It ripped! It ripped some more!" and then start all over again like it was happening over and over just for my own personal instant replay! I forgot about not feeling well. Mr. and Mrs. were now certain that I wasn't going to try to hitchhike home. And I had a new memory to access whenever I want to just really bring a smile to my face. I also have a story to tell every time I see a camper bring a director chair stool to the campfire.
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