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It’s fitting that this last commentary falls on Bastille Day, and it has everything to do with the story Jon tells Furball. That’s a true story, by the way, of the guitar player who sat down to keep Jon company, except substitute me with Jon. This event took place almost exactly nine years ago, at Drury Leadership Academy in Springfield, MO. The reasons are almost exactly the same as well. I was hiding, and the guy wandered in to my room, sat down, and started playing guitar. Word for word, that’s exactly what he said to me, and it so profoundly changed the way I interact with people, it makes me tell the story over and over again.
Bastille Day always makes me think of DLA, and it’s little sibling, SummerScape, because of a camp tradition. Starting about a week before July 14, during lunch, a girl, or collection of girls, stands up on a chair and belts out, “HEY EVERYBODY! GUESS WHAT DAY IT IS? It’s the day before the day before the day before the day before the day before the day before Bastille Day! ALL RIGHT!” And then they sit down (for the full effect, pronounce ‘Bastille’ as an American would, not a francophone). By day six, as you could imagine, most people are more concerned with eating than what day it is, but it’s still a fine tradition. As for Bastille Day, I don’t know why it was chosen, but there you go. Tradition.
SummerScape and DLA were both places that encouraged me to embrace my nerdiness. Keep in mind, I started going in 1997, back when most people got on the Internet via AOL, and geek chic were not too words usually put together. In other words, it still wasn’t cool being a nerd back then. Except for at camp, where I met nerds that were also future rock stars, artists, writers, the general spaz and the cool kid. SummerScape and DLA had such a broad range of people that it helped me realize liking computers wasn’t a bad thing, nor was drawing and talking about all these talking aminals (not as as big a deal in 1997 as it tends to be now). And I made some lasting friends from camp, too. Which is really the best part.
Anyways. The story’s over. Next week is the beginning of Boat Story, something entirely different, and yet so, so familiar.
So there it is. 29 weeks later, and it’s over. It’s a weird feeling, doing something for more than half a year, and finishing it. All the same, I’m glad I did it, and I hope everyone enjoyed getting the know the characters and much as I did sharing them.
As always, any questions and/or comments are totally welcome.
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[g]
Aw, it’s over. I feel happy those crazy kids are all in a better place, and yet, sort of sad that it’s done. BUT! I eagerly await the boat story
I’m always thinking about coming back to them again, but it’s going to be much like this story. I need them to have more fun first because, my god, they need to.
LOLRSK8S… people don’t make lasting friendships at summer camp, spelllcheckk.
*hug*
Seb? Jack? Just curious. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t me, and there were only so many guitar players.
You were one of those people for me though. Funny enough. I distinctly remember an interaction we had at DLA that made me come to this sudden realization that if I gave up my faith I’d be giving up one of the most important parts of me. In the “progressive” environment of “gifted camp,” I was so afraid of being rejected for faith that I was about ready to act like it didn’t matter to me, and you, clearly like my most liberal and atheistic friend, called me out. It was momentous. I make it sound dramatic, but I’m pretty sure we were just chilling on a couch talking. You probably don’t remember it, but so it goes with moments like that. Often, I think that’s exactly how life was designed to work.
:-)
Speaking of which, the paper tearing here at the end was kind of midwest-motivational-summer-camp-cliche, by the way. Thus, it was pretty awesome. Great story Grant. I will proofread it all for you soon now. I didn’t end up reading ahead, clearly.
It was Tim, actually. Took me forever to remember his name, too. Gah. Also, do you remember the time he was outside of Wallace, playing guitar, and a whole crowd of guys had gathered around to listen. He was playing “Beautiful Boy,” and it was indeed. But suddenly, he stopped, looked up at all of us, and said, “No offense, guys, but playing guitar is supposed to attract girls.”
I’m glad I could be that kind of influence on you. Now I feel even worse for not being able to go to your wedding.
=D
As well you should :-) RONDO!