Camp Norwich might have scarred me for life

I am sitting on the el right now with no book to read, so I figured that I might as well fight off my impending writers' block with a random post that has been tumbling around in my head for a few weeks now.

I started going to sleepaway camp when I was Dylan's age. My first year, I was there for a period of 6 weeks. This sounds crazy to most, but I had four older cousins there at the time (one of whom was a counselor in my unit), so I did fine.

That said, when I look back now at some of the goings on, I can't help but be a bit curious that I was exposed to this stuff at just 7-years-old. Let's look at movies, for example.

Movie night was great fun at Camp Norwich. I remember piling into the dining hall with pillows and loot from our care packages. I probably brought a big 'ol metal tin of Nestle Quik into which I'd stick my finger over and over, licking off the chocolatey powder.

And then we'd watch the movies. The problem, though, was that these movies had to appeal to all ages. And, I guess the counselors decided that entertaining themselves was more important than our fragile young minds? Or maybe these things weren't big concerns in the early 80's? Here are some examples of the movies I saw at camp: - Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid - Poltergeist - Jaws

Can you imagine dealing with a bunch of kids at the lake for swimming class the day after seeing Jaws??

Following in the footstps of her mom, Dylan will be attending YMCA camp this summer. But not sleepaway yet. Maybe next year she'll be ready for it in all it's R-rated splendor. Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile