What I Learned at Baptist Church Camp

Cody, WY, 9/18/2011
   I learned that a metal trashcan full of wire coat hangers, flung down a narrow hall at midnight made a terrible din, and that such an act would have repercussions other than obnoxious sounds.
    I learned that prayer and meditation hour was, for a twelve year old boy, something like the eternity they often mentioned in nightly lessons. It was also a perfect time to take a canoe out on the lake, filled with all the other paddles of the other boats, so no one could come and force us to pray and meditate.
   I learned that boys and girls were to be separated into two large groups, so that a girl named Carol would only be seen from afar. There would be no long anticipated walks, hand in hand, on sylvan paths, so the only reason I went to church camp was moot.