With the big three-day weekend approaching, I am sure many of you are going camping. Labor Day is one of the biggest camping weekends of the year. Many Americans reserve their campsites months ahead of time for Labor Day. with that I am going to say……I do not camp, I don’t like it, plus bad things happens when I camp. I haven’t been on a camping trip for a long time and can truly tell you I don’t miss it. Molly on the other hand loves camping, and I love her for it. As much as I don’t like camping I want my daughters exposed to it. I just don’t go with them. Let’s be clear about one thing, I do love the nature but I like indoor plumbing more.
You may ask if you don’t like camping and the girls do, what do you do? Well like the song says, “I get by with a help of my friends”. For example last year Molly and the girls camped in the mountains near our house with close friends of ours. I would drive up in the morning, spend the day with them and then drive back home at night. It was the best of both worlds, I spent the day in the nature and then drove home to civilization. Molly also takes the girls camping with her parents sometimes.
Like a lot of outdoor activities, Molly dismisses my lack of love for America’s favorite activity as “Persianism” and there maybe some truth to that. This is because you can always spot Persians camping. They are the ones dressed in their evening suits and gowns roasting marshmallows. I am joking of course, since Gucci started making camping gear, Persians are arriving in droves to camp sites in their BMWs. Ok enough with the stereo types 🙂
I am willing to try a lot of things, but with camping I just know the routine:
- Sleep in an uncomfortable cramped tent.
- Take all your clothes off at the beginning of the night because it’s too hot.
- Few hours later, put on every clothes you brought since you’re freezing your butt off.
- Wake up at 6:00AM exploding with urine.
- Walk into the communal bathroom and vomit from the smell
- At night repeat steps 1-5.
Now I know there has been some incredible advances made in camping gears technology during past few years, but until they come up with a tent that with a push of a button becomes a hotel room, count me out. But before you dismiss me as some kind of bourgeois snob, you have to hear my side of story. It isn’t that I don’t want to love camping, camping just doesn’t love me. It all started one hot summer back in 1986. Queue in flashback……..
I had just moved to US and had not made too many friends yet. My aunt and uncle arranged for me to go on a camping trip with the local boy scouts. I was fresh off the boat and didn’t realize a Boy Scout tradition of breaking into the girl’s camp. When a group of very angry girls with their oversized chaperones showed up, the chicken shit boys ratted me out as the leader of the break in. This was a brilliant tactic, since I could barely speak English and defend myself.
Needless to say I was blamed for everything and marked as some kind of Middle Eastern night prowler. Here is the funny thing about that night. I was actually too scared to leave the tent, let alone be the G. Gordon Liddy of the group. No one believed me including my aunt and uncle. The bright side was that I was never asked back again and I learned a new English word. Little Pervert!
The nail in the coffin came in college when I decided to go camping with a group of my dorm mates. San Luis Obispo has a lot of beautiful spots for camping, and a weekend of drinking and enjoying the beautiful scenery sounded good to me. However due to my inexperience I did not pack a flashlight. For what happened in the middle of the night, please refer to step 4 above. I got out of my rented tent and it was pitch dark outside. I could see the toilette lights in the far distance but I knew with out a flash light there was no way in hell I was gonna find my way back so I did the next best thing. I walked down a bit and found a small bush to relieve myself. It sounded like a brilliant idea until I had liquid to solid contact. What I thought was vegetation turned out to be a very small tent occupied by a very large cowboy. To this date I do not know how he fit in that tiny tent.
I was fortunate enough be able to finish up my business and run back to my tent before the large cowboy was fully awake and wanted to murder somebody. Apparently not only I had peed on his tent, I had managed to get a generous amount of it through his tent window.
My friends told the large man of rogue color neck that perhaps it was an animal and not a human that urinated on his tent. He was hard to convince as he claimed he heard the subject release a noisy fart followed by a human sigh (total lie by the way). Fortunately he went away without murdering anyone. Again, I was not invited back camping again.
I hope I have made my case against camping. As you can see I didn’t start this fight, camping did. This weekend we are going to beautiful Avila Beach and staying at a posh hotel, but I hope you all have a great Labor Day weekend no matter what you choose to do.