Give Thanks...For The Boy Scouts

 Last week my wife and I had to get some printing done. You know, for the wedding. They took our order and we waited for them to finish, so I went on a little tour of the print shop. Interesting place. In addition to printers, they had shipping boxes, packing material, tape, and other things you would expect to find in a business that caters to shipping needs.

There was something else in the store, something that used to be such a normal part of my life--of the lives of so many--that now is almost non-existent.

They had Boy Scouts of America supplies.

It was so odd to me, I snapped a couple of pictures.

As a boy growing up in Utah, Boy Scouts of America was everywhere. It was as big a part of my life as was church, sometimes bigger. We started in the cub scouts, then graduated to the big leagues. Every week we had pack meeting, every summer we had scout camp. All my friends were in scouts, my mom was a den leader. Scouting was so ingrained in our culture.

And then, it wasn't.

Yes, scouting has not disappeared completely, but from what I understand, it's a shell of its former self. Add to the fact that we no longer have children of scouting age, I don't even know if there's a local group in our area.

The sad part is, I enjoyed (mostly...) my time in scouting. When done correctly, scouting teaches life-long lessons and values I still try and incorporate today, decades later.  I'm grateful for the leaders and parents who sacrificed so much so their children could learn those values and lessons. Which makes the downfall so painful.

Seeing the books and posters in the store brought it back, brought back the memories--the good and the not-so-good. It made me remember just how big a program it was, and how much it's missed.

The Beauty Of A Campfire...

Last week a group of neighbors gathered just up our local canyon. We camped for the night. As sleep goes, my night was not good. My inflatable mattress transformed into a deflatable mattress at the 11:35pm mark, the 2:07am mark, the 3:37am mark, and again at the 5:15am mark.

But before we climbed into our tents and sleeping bags, we gathered around a small campfire to roast marshmallows and chat as men and boys sitting around a campfire are known to do. I didn't think we would be building a fire since it's been so warm in June, but we were literally five feet from a stream and our fire was very small.

What is it about sitting around a campfire that is so relaxing. Though I haven't done it much, I find the sensation similar to sitting on the beach watching and listening to the ocean waves lap the coastline. We cooked our confections and applied them to chocolate and graham crackers--they're so sweet I can only eat one, and I lived on Danish pastry for two years. And as good as the s'mores were, the conversation was better. There's a benefit to meeting with neighbors, getting to know them better. It makes us stronger, better friends.

Sure, campfires are smelly, leaves charcoal when finished, creates motion-detecting and following smoke, and has the potential to start massive forest fires, but under controlled conditions the experience can be almost magical.

Out With The Old, In With The New...Boat

Some things change--some do not. As time goes on, it seems everything eventually changes. Volkswagen gave us a new Beetle, Coca-Cola has tampered with it's product for years, and now the need to change has reached the Boy Scouts Raingutter Regatta.

I guess it was inevitable. 

Though, I must say, I do like the new design. Gone is the block of balsa wood with a stick and a sail. Now the youngsters can build their own balsa catamarans. Basically, instead of one block of wood, they now have two blocks of wood.

This morning I gave my son an assignment. I drew lines on the wood where he needed to remove with a sander (that was conveniently included in the box...). I got back from the play this afternoon and saw that my son had completed his assignment and he did a great job.

Together we finished sanding the wood, then we attached the plastic boat body and we painted it gold. I told my son that our color choices were limited to whatever colors we had in the basement. Since we had gold, gold did just fine.

The big race is Tuesday night. It'll be interesting to see the creative designs the little tykes (or their fathers...) come up with. I say, bring it on!