RichEisbrouch

Thanks. Sometimes good sex is best enough.

So even though we had it set up, and I figured we could pretty well walk unnoticed to the girls’ camp some evening after Rec, with the excuse that Andy needed to show me something for the next day, we didn’t make it that far. Saturday night, walking back to the bunks after the Canteen closed, Andy and I continued to the waterfront. We were talking about something, and the lake was just a few bunks from his kids. I was leaning on the slide to the Beginner’s Cove, and he was standing nearby, when

Got it. Thanks. As for Rob's educated grandfather spanking his dad: if Rob's dad is about forty-five at the time of the book, and he was spanked when he was about eight, that would have been in the early 1980s. That's pushing it some by most child-raising standards of the time, and most parents would realize the possible damage exceeded the benefit -- as you pointed out. Now if you told me it happened in the mid-1950s or earlier, I'd more readily believe it. So all I can say is Rob's dad must have done something truly dangerous for both his parents to choose spanking him in front of his younger sister and brother -- to make sure none of the three of them ever repeated that behavior. It would have to be something like hurting another child or risking his own or another child's life. And clearly, the lesson was learned because Rob's dad passed the story on to him and his sister. Also, the fact that Rob's grandparents-- both public school teachers -- had spanking in their range of child-raising techniques tells you something about how they were brought up. And they may have been spanked, or heard about their friends being spanked, when they were all in grade school in the 1950s. This could go back to Ibsen's Ghosts, and "the sins of the fathers..." But let's not push it.

Hi, Not sure what you mean by "public capital punishment" in connection with the story or this chapter. Can you explain a bit more? Sometimes, I'm dense. Thanks. And thanks for your other compliments. Rich

It took me a week of showing up at the girls’ camp every afternoon for people to get used to it. I’d stop at the girls’ HQ first and either check in with Mrs. Linden – Marie – or the girls’ head counselor – Stacey – or with whoever was temporarily in charge. By the end of the week, which was the third one in camp, I was told I didn’t need to check in anymore, just go straight to “work.” “Looks like they’re getting a deal with you,” Stacey said. “You wait tables and teach IT.” “Help teach

Hey, like, uh, suspense.

Two weeks into camp, just after the second weekend, Brian decided to go exploring. His car wasn’t ready for paint yet, but he wanted to check out who could do it or where he could buy the supplies, and he wanted to look at equipment rental stores, and repair shops, and dealerships, and even junk yards. “I’m trying to decide whether to rent a sprayer and rig up some kind of temporary booth with throw-away tarps, or get it done professionally – as long as I can find a place that’s good but che

Andy didn’t hit on me a third time because I snuck up on him. “I have permission to help you teach,” I said. “When I want.” He just looked at me. “Huh?” And I explained my conversation with Linden. “What if I don’t want?” he asked warily. I grinned. “Then I guess it’s back to the bench.” He thought about that for a moment then laughed. We were sitting at our usual corner table in the Canteen, about as far from the speakers and dancing as we could get. “Now

About a week-and-a-half into camp, while watching Bill Linden zip towards the girls’s camp in his open Jeep, I realized I probably should have already introduced myself. My parents hadn’t mentioned it in their notes, which might have reminded me, and Linden didn’t say anything when we occasionally saw each other in the Mess Hall. We simply nodded. And he probably had six-hundred names to juggle in his head, so mine wouldn’t mean anything. But the next time he was sitting quietly after a meal

Like me, Brian had a long distance girlfriend. But Julie wasn’t in Europe, and he didn’t write her every night. “We’re not sure how long we can last,” he admitted. “Like you and Katie.” We’d swapped stories after he’d seen me writing each evening, and I learned more about Julie while helping Brian work on his car. I really didn’t know much about cars, but I’m not sure anyone in my family did, so it wasn’t likely they’d teach me. I’d watched Mom and Dad check the oil, and the water, a

The next time Andy hit on me was the middle of the second week. “You looked great on the raft today,” he said. “Where’d you learn to dive?” He wasn’t talking about my swimming, and we both knew it. “My mom taught me,” I answered, casually. “You never trained? Could’ve fooled me.” I’m sure he was imagining me in briefs. “Nah. I thought I told you – my sports are soccer, wrestling, and track. I goof off summers when we go to Vermont.” “Isn’t there’s a lake?” “Sure.

The first Saturday night show was very funny – in an in-joke, Camp Seneca way I was still learning. “You were very good,” I told Greg. “Sounds like you didn’t expect it.” “I didn’t know what to expect. As you said, you’re a high school actor.” “And we’ve all seen plenty of them in bad plays.” I nodded. “Enough.” “I’ve even been in a few,” he admitted. “Everyone’s not as good as you?” I joked. “No – but what ya gonna do?” And we both laughed. We were talking ov

The kids had built-in time to write their families every day, and from what Nate said, they were steadily reminded by the counselors. “That’s one of their jobs – to keep the parents happy.” “And up to date,” Jim added. “No campers. No camp,” Dan simplified. “And no millions for Linden.” “Does he really make that much?” I asked. “Then why does he teach?” “You can figure out the money yourself,” Steve suggested. “Just do the math. As to how much he keeps and how much he put

Yep, I learned to drive stick on my driver's permit because I knew it was harder so wanted to learn that first. But I have big feet and was learning in a friend's tiny Fiat, and he finally ran out of time to teach me, so I took my driver's test and failed the parallel parking because I stalled. The officer said, "You drive fine but need more practice on the stick." I said, "Yeah, I know that. But if you give me my license, I can practice on my own. I'm running out of patient friends." He laughed but said he couldn't do that. Though he nicely told me I could come any time and be retested, no appointment necessary. So I came back the next day, driving another friend's car, with an automatic transmission, aced the test, while both pissing off and amusing the same officer, because he knew what I was doing. Then I bought my first car, a VW squareback -- with a stick, of course. Still drive one.

The other thing none of the other waiters realized is Brian had a car. When he said he’d been driving all over the place to stay with friends, he hadn’t mentioned that the car came with him to camp. We discovered that after breakfast on Sunday, when Brian pulled on a ripped T-shirt and dirty shorts and got out his tools. “What are those for?” Greg asked. “Sanding, mainly. A little fill-in. Some fiberglass.” “On what?” “My car.” We waited for him to explain. “Sorry. I

Andy and I really didn’t have a chance to talk again till Wednesday. We’d nod and smile in the Mess Hall, but Saturday night, I needed to answer a letter from Katie, and I was pretty tired anyway so didn’t even follow Nate and the guys to the girls’ camp. “Come on,” Steve said. “We never get caught. We go into the fields behind us, cross a couple of pastures, sneak under some wire fences, roll over a low stone wall, and we’re there.” “It’s longer than the road,” Jim admitted. “But it’s o

I saw Andy briefly at dinner. He’d been assigned to a group of ten-year-old boys in addition to his computer work at the girls’ camp. The way Nate explained it was each bunk had from one to three counselors, more for the younger kids, so they were steadily supervised. But the second counselor in most of the bunks had a specialty, and that’s what he or she did during the day. “In the activity periods.” “What are they?” “I’ll tell you later. Right now, concentrate on food.” The guy

I was maybe half-unpacked when the screen door on our side of the bunk opened, and the last of the eight waiters came in. He looked like he’d just been swimming. He was wet though was wearing shorts, and he carried a T-shirt instead of a towel. Seeing us, he immediately laughed. “‘Bout time I got some company.” “Been here long?” Nate asked. I was expecting an answer in hours. “‘Bout a week.” He seemed to be counting on his fingers. “Five-and-a-half days.” “Helping ope

Thanks. There's a bit of setting up to do.

Our bunk was separated from the other buildings. It was behind the Mess Hall and in back of a small, outdoor basketball court. “That one’s ours,” Nate explained. “If we want to play other guys, we can bring them over. But no one can use it without us.” “Why?’ “Waiters’ privileges. We’ve got one or two.” “You play a lot of basketball?” “Oh, yeah – more than anything. Swimming, tennis, soccer, touch football – they’re great. But it’s always easy to start a pick-up game.” He

When Linden came back to our car, again he began by quieting people. “We’ll be in Norwich in five minutes,” he announced. “As most of you know, from there we go by bus. Things sometimes get a little disorganized at the station, but that shouldn’t affect you. Still, I don’t want to lose anyone.” He grinned. “Even you, Nate.” Nate just waved. Royally. “Now I want all the activity counselors – those not assigned to bunks – to help the other counselors. And once everyone else is

Let’s pretend about death. Let’s pretend that when you die all you’re left with is what’s in your memory. All your memories, the good and the bad. It’s all dark and warm, like you’re lying in a comfortable bed on a good night with your eyes closed. Memories come and go, even things you thought you forgot. You’ve got eternity to remember. You can hold a memory for as long as you want. You can explore it. You can see, hear, touch, taste, smell it again. You can live in it. You can also i

Bill Linden came into our car shortly before noon. He quieted everyone and asked kids standing to find seats. Then he called the names of all the waiters and had us line up in the aisle. There were eight girls and seven guys. “About lunch,” Linden began. His voice was deep but clear, and he sounded used to giving instructions. “Most of you know how this works, but for those who don’t, I’ll explain. And for those who’ve heard it all before – some many times, I know – it would be so nice if yo

Another reason I finally gave in to going to camp was my girlfriend, Katie, was in Europe with her parents. That was her graduation present. Mine was going to college. “More practical,” said my mom. “Better investment,” added Dad. Katie and I had been going together for less than a year – since early October – but if she’d been home, I would have battled my parents to stay there, too. Well – reasoned. But with Katie in places I couldn’t possibly reach – and with her being away for al

I was very drunk once at a party in Bel-Air. This was when I was in my early twenties and still new to LA. It must have been four in the morning, and I was sitting, drowsily and fairly immobile, in an attractively dim, vast living room, when suddenly the lights came on. Bright, white, blinding, overhead lights, the kind used by after hour cleaning crews in movie theaters or clubs. The host and hostess, still in the unblemished formal dress of one of the many, minor, industry awards ceremonie