Welcome to Camp Hypocrisy!
I passed by a truck that had a Ted Nugent sticker on it today
This wasn’t an old truck, this was a new truck… and the sticker was new also. So what I’m wondering is, why are they still making Ted Nugent stickers?
Don’t get me wrong, I was a fan of Ted Nugent… when I was fourteen. Look, just because Mr. Loincloth is a barbaric and senseless animal killer doesn’t mean he didn’t make great music… on one album… once.
I think he got his image from watching Conan the Barbarian movies with Arnold Schwarzenegger. Okay, I can’t confirm that, but I can see him taking one look at that loincloth and saying “That’s what I’m wearing!” At some point he thought it was a good idea to add a cowboy hat.
Whenever I hear one of his only two good songs, it reminds me of the time I went to a religious camp with my friend. You know me, I can’t stand religious dogma, so you may be wondering why I’d agree to go to a religious camp for the weekend in the first place. Well, I didn’t know it was a religious camp when I agreed to it. I only knew it was “a total blast” as my friend described it.
What really sealed the deal was when she told me that on the last night of the weekend, the girls would sneak out of their cabins and go raid the boy’s cabins. I asked her what exactly would we do once we got there, and she said maybe kiss some boys, so I was in. It was all innocent fourteen year old fun.
Turns out, it wasn’t a total blast after all.
One afternoon, the entire camp of three hundred gathered at this outdoor forum and the counselors got up on stage and started talking all this religious stuff. Then they brought up other counselors to talk about their experiences through the church; how it changed them and made them better.
One woman went up and confessed that she used to be a lesbian, but discovered she was just a sinner and was saved by the church and no longer a lesbian. Tears were streaming down her face during her confession, which led me to believe she wasn’t changed at all, just frighteningly confused.
I’m pretty sure you can’t become un-gay.
My friend sat through this entire debacle like it was no big deal so I leaned over and asked her if she believed this crap. She just smiled and said something about not believing “all of it”. Then the woman sitting on the other side of me, who had been crying tears of salvation, asked me if I wanted to go up on stage and get “saved”.
What? Hell no! Firstly, let’s get something straight; I’m not a sinner (excluding this blog, of course), and secondly, how did she know I wasn’t part of “them”? I must’ve been singled out early on. I replied I wasn’t ready. What I was ready for though, was to get the hell out of there.
It did get slightly fun after that. There were camp games and competitions and things lightened up a little. Hmm, maybe a little too much. On the second day, one of the male camp counselors was standing around talking to a group of us girls, and he seemed to be really enjoying himself. We were giggling and talking about how cute we all thought he was. Then one of the girls dared him to kiss one of us, and he immediately pointed at me.
I got giddy; he chose me out of the whole group! I was just a young, innocent girl expecting a peck on the lips by the cutest counselor in the camp. Instead, he leaned in, pressed his lips lightly against mine, then proceeded to stick his tongue in my mouth. He was in his twenties, I was fourteen.
Nothing says “pedophilia” like a church camp weekend.
The final night came; the night when we were supposed to raid the boy’s cabin, but on the way there, we got caught and was chased by the cult leader and his minion. So they led us into an auditorium where two hundred folding chairs were set up, and told us for our “punishment” we had to break them down. It was fun at first, even though I had stubbed my toe during the chase and it was bleeding.
We were joking around, laughing while accepting our fate, and when we finished, we thought it was over, time to go to bed. But no, they commanded us to break them down and set them up again… four times. It was one o’clock in the morning by the time they allowed us to go back to our bunks. I never did get first aid treatment for my bloody toe, but they got a huge boner out of being sadistic assholes.
I really, really wanted to have a good time at this fucking asshole camp, I really did. My friend blasted Ted Nugent the night before our departure so it seemed promising. Instead, I was almost indoctrinated into a cult, slightly molested by a pedophile, and mistreated by the cult leader.