I didn’t sleep very much last night. It was probably a combination of things that was responsible. First, I got a little bit of a nap, so I didn’t drop immediately to sleep when I lay down, like I am used to. Not falling right asleep, I started worrying about what would happen if I overslept. Since I was slated for the last shuttle out, probably nothing good. It would have cost around $150 for a taxi to Richmond. Then, of course there was the chainsaw snorer in the bunk above mine. Whatever the reason, I didn’t get more than twenty consecutive minutes of sleep all night.
At quarter to five, I’d had enough and just got up and got dressed. I walked down to the dining hall, where all they had today was donuts and coffee. Neither one appealed to me, so I went back and finished packing up and headed for the bus that would take me to the shuttle bus.
The bus to the bus rolled out right on time at 6:00 am. The 8:00 shuttle to the Richmond airport filled up and left at 6:42 am, and the one behind it in line started filling up.
We disembarked at the airport just before 8 am, and I went past the check in area without ever seeing it. I was not the only one either. A whole group of us got to the security line still holding the bags we wanted to check and had to get directions back.
After I checked in my big heavy bag (it weighed in at 38 pounds; I had worried a little about if it was over the 50# limit, and had considered leaving some things behind; glad I didn’t), I found myself with almost 10 hours before my flight left.
So I left the airport and walked to the Virginia Aviation Museum that I had seen just before we arrived. It had an SR-71 parked in front, which was a big attraction for me. After I took pictures, I discovered that the museum didn’t open until 9:30.
I wondered for a while what to do next. I could see a couple of restaurants and 3 motels across the road, and my first instinct was to find a place to sit down and use someone’s free wi-fi to post my blog entries. When I said ‘across the road’ though, what I meant was across a road and two divided highways and three drainage ditches. I tried walking parallel for a while, in search of a crosswalk, but after four blocks, I gave that up as unproductive. The traffic wasn’t that heavy, and it was actually more difficult crossing the ditches without getting wet than crossing the highways.
Aunt Sarah’s Pancake House seemed the most promising of those I walked by, so I doubled back to it. They served a delicious mushroom and Monterrey jack omelette, but didn’t have wi-fi. I wasn’t really hungry, but I didn’t have any problem finishing either.
By the time the bill came and I settled up, the museum was open, so I headed back across the obstacle course. I’d say I did it without getting wet, but the grass was still damp from the overnight thunderstorms.
The museum was not very large, but it had a lot of history packed inside. I very much enjoyed the almost two hours I spent there.
I hiked back into the terminal and through security. Fortunately, the airport didn’t seem to be that busy. I remembered to disconnect my insulin pump and tuck it into my coat before I went through the line. This saved me from the dreaded, “Please step to one side, sir,” comments, along with the accompanying wanding and frisking. I usually forget until too late.
I sat at my gate a little after noon, along with six others from the Jamboree staff, who had a wait of at least a couple more hours. My flight doesn’t start boarding until 5:35 pm. But, I did determine that RIC has free wi-fi, so it is now time to update the blog again.
Clearly, the fates are conspiring against me. We started hearing announcements before three that Dulles was rerouting planes to Richmond because of thunderstorms. They arrived here just before 6. If our plane from Houston had arrived on time, I’m sure we could have made it out ahead of the storm, but it didn’t and we didn’t. Once there was lightning in the area, we couldn’t board the plane, nor would they fuel it up, so we didn’t get off the ground until well after 8:00. The flight was two hours late getting to Houston, and so I missed my connection.
I stood in line at the service desk trying to figure out how I’m going to get home. They booked me on the same flight tomorrow, departing at 8:50 pm. They gave me a discount coupon for a local hotel, and recommended I come back tomorrow. When I asked about getting my checked bag so I would have clean clothes, they said it would take a couple of hours for it to come by on the carousel, because they only had one guy still working in baggage.
!?!
So another passenger and I sat and waited and waited in the baggage claim area. Finally I saw there was a baggage office and I went in to ask how long it would take for our bags to show up. They said there wasn’t anyone still working in terminal B. I could go over to terminal C and see if maybe they could find it for me.
So I did. It was a long time coming. Then I called the hotel they recommended and had them send me a shuttle to pick me up. By the time I checked in, got ready for bed, and updated the old blog, it was 3 am.
At least this time I can sleep in without a 5:30 round of alarms.
05 August, 2010
Day Twenty-six: Wednesday, 4 August, 2010
Last night I had enough extra time to head over to the patch trading area and did a little trading. I would have felt bad if I had returned home with all of my own patches, so at least there was a silver lining to my having to wait.
It did rain last night also. No word on whether Brian stuck to his plan to sleep tentless or not. I heard that many of the scoutmasters were given about forty minutes notice in the middle of the night, but I don’t know how pervasive that warning was. I suppose I’ll find out when I get home.
Since I had no work to accomplish today and all of the Jamboree attractions were already shut down, I had planned to sleep in. No dice. The first round of alarms went off at 5:30, and the next at 6, and that was the end of that idea. I got in line for breakfast, asked for a little of everything, and walked away with a heaping plate. They must be trying to get rid of all the food they can. I couldn’t finish more than a third of what they gave me.
After that, I decided to do laundry. I had one more set of clean clothes to wear, but I had nothing better to do with my time. Besides, with all the sweating I’d been doing in this muggy heat, my duffel bag didn’t smell very nice. I finished that up in time for lunch, and then helped others carry stuff out to their cars and load up. The roads were reserved for departing scout troops until 2:00, but then there was a mass exodus from the staff area.
They came to lock up the building I had been sleeping in shortly after that. I had to move to the last building open. Men on the second floor, women on the first. At least I have a lower bunk now.
I tried taking a nap, since tomorrow will be an early start. I got a little bit of sleep, but it was frequently interrupted.
They served salmon for dinner. It was yummy.
After dinner, I showered, packed everything back except what I’ll wear tomorrow, called Pam, updated the blog, and went to bed. Well, I can’t post it yet, but at least it’s written.
It did rain last night also. No word on whether Brian stuck to his plan to sleep tentless or not. I heard that many of the scoutmasters were given about forty minutes notice in the middle of the night, but I don’t know how pervasive that warning was. I suppose I’ll find out when I get home.
Since I had no work to accomplish today and all of the Jamboree attractions were already shut down, I had planned to sleep in. No dice. The first round of alarms went off at 5:30, and the next at 6, and that was the end of that idea. I got in line for breakfast, asked for a little of everything, and walked away with a heaping plate. They must be trying to get rid of all the food they can. I couldn’t finish more than a third of what they gave me.
After that, I decided to do laundry. I had one more set of clean clothes to wear, but I had nothing better to do with my time. Besides, with all the sweating I’d been doing in this muggy heat, my duffel bag didn’t smell very nice. I finished that up in time for lunch, and then helped others carry stuff out to their cars and load up. The roads were reserved for departing scout troops until 2:00, but then there was a mass exodus from the staff area.
They came to lock up the building I had been sleeping in shortly after that. I had to move to the last building open. Men on the second floor, women on the first. At least I have a lower bunk now.
I tried taking a nap, since tomorrow will be an early start. I got a little bit of sleep, but it was frequently interrupted.
They served salmon for dinner. It was yummy.
After dinner, I showered, packed everything back except what I’ll wear tomorrow, called Pam, updated the blog, and went to bed. Well, I can’t post it yet, but at least it’s written.
Day Twenty-five: Tuesday, 3 August, 2010
Happy birthday, Mark! You too, Gienah and Taunia!
Today, the Jamboree is winding down. This morning was our last ticketed session. Brian came in for a few minutes. He was in the area because Shawn White, Olympic snowboarder, was visiting the mountain boarding area today. I asked him if he was going to make it out to the midway and finish his engineering badge, but he didn’t think he would. He was planning to head back to camp and pack everything up, including his tent, and sleep out under the stars tonight.
After lunch, we started taking apart and packing up all the things we had spent three or four days putting together. The schedule called for us to spend a day and a half at the task. We were done by 4:00, with all the semis and trucks of vendor equipment rolling away or already gone.
By the time I got back to Wilcox, I realized that I had nothing at all to do tomorrow, and that it might be possible to go home a day early. I was scheduled to leave the fort on the 8:00 am shuttle Thursday, and fly out of Richmond Thursday evening.
First, I checked the shuttle schedule. There were departures for the three nearest airports at 12 and 2 tomorrow, and at 6 and 8 Thursday. Then I called the airline. Several times I got a recording that due to heavy call volume they were unable to answer my call, click. Eventually, I got through, gave Brooklyn my flight numbers and asked if I could move my itinerary up one day. She said that she could get me a seat on a flight leaving at 12:55 pm tomorrow, but everything else was already full. I told her thanks, but that I wouldn’t be able to make it there that early.
I asked a few of the people I knew in the barracks if any of them were headed south and had an extra seat, but I wasn’t able to find one.
I called Pam to let her know that I had thought I could make it home early, but I wasn’t able to make it work. She said it sounded like I had exhausted all my possibilities. I told her all but one, then I set the phone down and shouted down the length of the barracks asking if anyone was headed south and had an extra space in their car. Miraculously, I got a taker!
So I told Pam goodbye and that I’d see her tomorrow, hung up, and started throwing my stuff into my bag. I was trying to get the airline back on the phone the whole time I packed. Still on hold while I loaded my things into Jim’s truck. On hold the whole time I checked out with the housing office/tent. I got through just about the time we pulled out of the Wilcox camp area.
The girl I spoke to got everything sorted out for me and filled me in on details that Brooklyn hadn’t given me. The flight at 12:55 went to PDX, but routed through Newark instead of Houston. It would land in Portland at 10 pm instead of the 11 pm arrival of my original flight. I said that would be fine. Then she told me that there would be a $150 charge for reticketing, and the difference in fare would be $943.
Jim was very nice about turning around and dropping me off at Wilcox again.
Today, the Jamboree is winding down. This morning was our last ticketed session. Brian came in for a few minutes. He was in the area because Shawn White, Olympic snowboarder, was visiting the mountain boarding area today. I asked him if he was going to make it out to the midway and finish his engineering badge, but he didn’t think he would. He was planning to head back to camp and pack everything up, including his tent, and sleep out under the stars tonight.
After lunch, we started taking apart and packing up all the things we had spent three or four days putting together. The schedule called for us to spend a day and a half at the task. We were done by 4:00, with all the semis and trucks of vendor equipment rolling away or already gone.
By the time I got back to Wilcox, I realized that I had nothing at all to do tomorrow, and that it might be possible to go home a day early. I was scheduled to leave the fort on the 8:00 am shuttle Thursday, and fly out of Richmond Thursday evening.
First, I checked the shuttle schedule. There were departures for the three nearest airports at 12 and 2 tomorrow, and at 6 and 8 Thursday. Then I called the airline. Several times I got a recording that due to heavy call volume they were unable to answer my call, click. Eventually, I got through, gave Brooklyn my flight numbers and asked if I could move my itinerary up one day. She said that she could get me a seat on a flight leaving at 12:55 pm tomorrow, but everything else was already full. I told her thanks, but that I wouldn’t be able to make it there that early.
I asked a few of the people I knew in the barracks if any of them were headed south and had an extra seat, but I wasn’t able to find one.
I called Pam to let her know that I had thought I could make it home early, but I wasn’t able to make it work. She said it sounded like I had exhausted all my possibilities. I told her all but one, then I set the phone down and shouted down the length of the barracks asking if anyone was headed south and had an extra space in their car. Miraculously, I got a taker!
So I told Pam goodbye and that I’d see her tomorrow, hung up, and started throwing my stuff into my bag. I was trying to get the airline back on the phone the whole time I packed. Still on hold while I loaded my things into Jim’s truck. On hold the whole time I checked out with the housing office/tent. I got through just about the time we pulled out of the Wilcox camp area.
The girl I spoke to got everything sorted out for me and filled me in on details that Brooklyn hadn’t given me. The flight at 12:55 went to PDX, but routed through Newark instead of Houston. It would land in Portland at 10 pm instead of the 11 pm arrival of my original flight. I said that would be fine. Then she told me that there would be a $150 charge for reticketing, and the difference in fare would be $943.
Jim was very nice about turning around and dropping me off at Wilcox again.
Day Twenty-four: Monday, 2 August, 2010
Today was the last full day of jamboree activities for us. The way they worked admission to the Tech Quest area was to provide tickets by subcamp for either the morning or afternoon of a particular day, and that was when you were supposed to go. The plan was to have 2,900 scouts in each session. Of course, plans have to change. They then said that anyone could enter the last hour of each session, from 11 to 12 and from 3 to 4. Not satisfied with that, they then extended the afternoon shifts until 5.
We stayed busy.
Anyway, this morning was the session that Brian’s troop came through. I got to work with him in the DNA area, and then I lost track of him as he wandered through the other areas. He did tell me that the 60-second liquid nitrogen ice cream was yummy. The guys from Michigan Tech making it have gotten a little impatient a couple of times and made a mess. If they pour too much LN2 in at a time, which expands as it warms up, they get exploding ice cream all over. This happened at least twice.
Michigan Tech also has some displays on harmonics, a trench of ooblech (of Dr. Seuss fame), a vacuum ping pong ball gun, a miniature hovercraft built from two leaf blowers, and a couple of other hands-on physics displays.
I did a little bit of patch trading after work. I brought a couple dozen patches from our council to the Jamboree, in order to trade with people from all over, but up to now it has been kind of hit and miss. Mostly, I’ve traded with anyone who has asked me, but I haven’t gone out of my way to ask people if they want to trade. So far, I have 20 new patches to add to my collection.
That’s about all the news from Fort A. P. Hill for today.
We stayed busy.
Anyway, this morning was the session that Brian’s troop came through. I got to work with him in the DNA area, and then I lost track of him as he wandered through the other areas. He did tell me that the 60-second liquid nitrogen ice cream was yummy. The guys from Michigan Tech making it have gotten a little impatient a couple of times and made a mess. If they pour too much LN2 in at a time, which expands as it warms up, they get exploding ice cream all over. This happened at least twice.
Michigan Tech also has some displays on harmonics, a trench of ooblech (of Dr. Seuss fame), a vacuum ping pong ball gun, a miniature hovercraft built from two leaf blowers, and a couple of other hands-on physics displays.
I did a little bit of patch trading after work. I brought a couple dozen patches from our council to the Jamboree, in order to trade with people from all over, but up to now it has been kind of hit and miss. Mostly, I’ve traded with anyone who has asked me, but I haven’t gone out of my way to ask people if they want to trade. So far, I have 20 new patches to add to my collection.
That’s about all the news from Fort A. P. Hill for today.
Day Twenty-three: Sunday, 1 August, 2010
I expected a struggle to get things moving this morning, but it was just the same as every other morning here in Wilcox. The first round of alarms went off at 5:30, and a few brave souls scrambled for the showers. The second round went off at 6:00, and everyone rolled out of bed, dressed, and headed to the dining hall for breakfast, which was the same as every other morning as well. The invariable menu consisted of eggs, bacon, sausage, and potatoes. Occasionally, they added French toast to those, and once added pancakes. Bulk cereal with milk and orange or apple juice were available in separate lines. Servings were not that large for any of the meals here, either, but I found that it was enough that I wasn’t hungry at all.
Church services were held in the same field as last Sunday, and I saw Frank Van Winkle again. This time I sat with Skip Gaudreau, though, and we saved seats for Brian and Sean Goodey, who were called on to pass the sacrament.
Skip is one of the assistant scoutmasters in Brian's troop. He is also in our ward back home, and he was the individual most responsible for the fact that Brian and I wound up attending the Jamboree.
The meeting was great. A young men’s choir sang “We’ll Bring the World His Truth” and then the only speaker was Elder Robert D. Hales.
I had enough time after the meeting to go back to Wilcox and change before heading back to Technology Quest for the afternoon. Things went normally from there. Work, long bus ride, dinner, shower, call Pam, then bed.
Church services were held in the same field as last Sunday, and I saw Frank Van Winkle again. This time I sat with Skip Gaudreau, though, and we saved seats for Brian and Sean Goodey, who were called on to pass the sacrament.
Skip is one of the assistant scoutmasters in Brian's troop. He is also in our ward back home, and he was the individual most responsible for the fact that Brian and I wound up attending the Jamboree.
The meeting was great. A young men’s choir sang “We’ll Bring the World His Truth” and then the only speaker was Elder Robert D. Hales.
I had enough time after the meeting to go back to Wilcox and change before heading back to Technology Quest for the afternoon. Things went normally from there. Work, long bus ride, dinner, shower, call Pam, then bed.
Day Twenty-two: Saturday, 31 July, 2010
Today was again a half day of work, to allow everyone to attend the “Closing Arena Show,” which takes place days before the Jamboree ends. I don’t understand it, but what the heck, I’m not a scout executive.
So work ended at noon, I was done with lunch by 12:45, at which point I stood in line for a bus. Waiting 45 minutes in a line to cram onto a vehicle with seats set closer together than the distance from my hips to my knees, I really got to appreciate the bus that runs us directly from work to housing, and often is only half full.
I made it back to Wilcox at about 2:15. The show was set to start at 8:00, with a pre-show at 5:30, so I thought I would have a little time to sit down and catch up on my blogging, and maybe get a nap. At 3:00, someone in the barracks who had access to a staff car offered a few of us a ride back to the merit badge midway, just across from the entrance to the arena. Well, that was too good to pass up, so I jumped in.
I should, at this point, apologize to all of you who are trying to keep up with my escapades. Most of the time I have my blog written to within a day or three of the actual date, but finding a wireless network to access is infrequent, and even then, connections drop easily. By the time I get home, though, I will make sure everything gets posted.
So, I made it to the midway by about 4:00, and having nothing better to do, I went in and got the best spot in the house. Well almost. I sat down at the very front of the Western Region section, with an exit aisle right in front of me. I was exactly even with the right edge of the stage, and about 50 yards back. Perfect.
After twenty minutes of wondering if it would rain, one of the crew came along and told me I couldn’t sit there. I asked why not. He said that the staff seating area was over there, in front of stage left. I asked why I couldn’t just stay where I was, as I liked it here. He had no reasons, only orders, and you can’t argue with a man who has no reasons for what he’s doing, so I got up and relocated to the area he had indicated.
I made it twenty-five minutes before the next round. Different guy, same orders: Move farther left where you rebel scum belong, or something like that. I thought hard about rebelling for real, because I liked my new spot even better than the one before. I didn’t of course, wimp that I am.
The third time, though, I was starting to get mad. I stood up with the rest, but instead of walking over to the indicated internment camp, I walked over to another chap who looked like one who gave orders, and might have reasons for doing things. In short, he looked like he had half a brain.
Alas, looks can be deceiving. He called up the food chain and parroted what they told him, assuring me that I would not be asked to move again.
By the fifth time I had to find a new seat, all less desirable than the previous one after the second, I vowed that the next time I was asked to move I would simply ignore them. If that didn’t work, I would refuse, and if they threw me out of the show, it would be worth it.
Fortunately, my resolve wasn’t tested and they left me alone for the final four minutes before the preshow got going.
The preshow was mostly four guys running around and playing games with the audience, remote feeds from gatherings in other spots around the country, and a steel drum band from Trinidad and Tobago. The band was good.
At 7:45, they played a tape of President Obama congratulating the Boy Scouts on their 100th anniversary. All other presidents that I know of had actually come to the Jamboree to make their address, but he opted not to do the same. The timing was interesting as well; fifteen minutes before the national broadcast began. Either B. H. Obama did not want to be associated with the Boy Scouts and all that they stand for, or else the Boy Scouts did not want to be associated with the president, and all that he stands for. I’m not sure which it was, because I could see reasons for both to be true. Maybe both are.
Once the show got going, it was an amazing, high-energy affair. I have heard that you can watch a replay online at www.ustream.tv/shininglight and, though I haven’t looked myself, I have heard that the pre-show is posted there as well.
We had another jet fighter flyover to kick things off, though I wasn’t warned in advance, and so didn’t look until I heard them. By that time, they were almost gone, so I couldn’t identify them for you. The towers on the stage had giant flames that erupted twenty feet in the air a couple of times. Each time, you could feel the heat, even from as far back as I was. (Actually, I wasn’t all that far back. Maybe a third of the way or less. Mostly, my complaints were that they kept giving me a worse and worse angle on the stage.)
There was a display by the Black Daggers, another military skydiving/paratrooper group that did at least as well as the Golden Knights had. Amazingly precise.
Toward the end, they showed a video of what the Bectel Summit looks like, which will be the site for the 2013 National Jamboree. It does look amazing. In between jamborees it will be a high adventure camp, with whitewater rafting, kayaking, rappelling, mountain climbing, and, if the video was not playing tricks with perspective, a mile-long zip line.
The highlight of the show was the address given by Mike Rowe, the host of the Dirty Jobs TV show. Mike is an Eagle Scout, and he told about how he got started in Boy Scouts. His father decided it would be good for him, so he took him to a troop meeting in the basement of his church. His dad had to throw him out of the car. He said that at that age he was painfully shy and very uncoordinated. The first thing they did at the meeting was to play a game called “Swing the Thing.” This involved everyone forming a circle with one boy in the middle. The center boy held a rope, at the end of which was tied a bag of wet rags. The object of the game is for the boy to swing the weighted rope as fast as he can and for all the boys in the circle to jump over the bag as it goes by. If you mistimed your leap, you’ll get knocked over and you are then eliminated from the game. The last one remaining is declared the winner, and gets to swing the thing for the next round. Mike was the first one knocked down, and he wound up with a bloody nose.
“I hadn’t been there five minutes and I had a bloody nose. Things were going great,” Mike said.
When that game was over, they went outside and played “British Bulldog.” In this game, all but one person line up on one side of the field. At the shout of “go,” everyone tries to run to the other side of the field. The one in the middle tries to tackle someone and hold them to the ground long enough to say, “British bulldog,” which means that they’ve been caught and have to then work with other boy to help capture boys when they run back. The last one remaining is declared the winner, and gets to start the next game as the British bulldog.
Mike was the first one knocked down, and he wound up with a fat lip for his efforts.
“I hadn’t been there fifteen minutes and I had a bloody nose and a fat lip. Things were going great,” Mike said.
When the meeting started, the scoutmaster made Mike stand in the front and introduce himself to everyone. He was so nervous that he stuttered and stammered his way through it.
When he got home his parents asked him how things had gone, and he frankly told them that he hated it, but he wound up going again the next week, and the week after.
He said it took him a long time to figure out what it was that kept him coming back, and he finally determined that it was because Boy Scouts forces you to do things that make you uncomfortable, and facing those things makes you a better person.
He went on to relate that to his TV show. Dirty Jobs is all about people who perform necessary functions in the world that all of us would be uncomfortable doing.
He finished up by talking about his conundrum with the Scout Law, which declares, among other things, that a Scout is Clean, yet he makes his living doing dirty jobs. Clean is comfortable, and dirty is one of those things that you have to put yourself through to build yourself into someone capable of accomplishing great things. He has finally decided on a new saying, “A Scout is Clean, but he’s not afraid to get Dirty.”
The show had three more bands perform. Honor Society sang two songs, and spent all the time in between letting us know that their songs were available to download from iTunes. Switchfoot, whose name comes from a surfing term, were the headliners, and they sang three of four tunes and walked out into the audience to enormous cheers. Brian says he is a big Switchfoot fan, which surprised me. They’re a little heavier of a rock band than I thought he preferred. He says that Johnathan, a boy he rides bikes with all the time, is a huge fan, and that’s where he heard about them.
I have to admit that they are very talented, but it made me wish I were a little farther back from the three-storey tall speakers. I don’t care if that makes me sound old, I’ve earned my age.
The final performers were an a cappella group called Vocal Point. They were introduced as all Eagle Scouts, and they performed a song called “On My Honor,” which was amazing. I had actually heard of these guys before. They had all been part of BYU’s a cappella group before they graduated.
To finish off the evening, they put on the largest fireworks display ever hosted on a military base. It was impressive, to say the least. At one point, I was looking up as high as I could stretch when I realized that they were shooting off more fireworks behind me and to either side. Like I said, very impressive.
It was quarter to eleven when they wrapped things up and sent us to our beds. Some of the kids had several miles to walk, so I’m sure they had a late evening. I was in bed by one, but decided not to try writing this blog before switching off.
So work ended at noon, I was done with lunch by 12:45, at which point I stood in line for a bus. Waiting 45 minutes in a line to cram onto a vehicle with seats set closer together than the distance from my hips to my knees, I really got to appreciate the bus that runs us directly from work to housing, and often is only half full.
I made it back to Wilcox at about 2:15. The show was set to start at 8:00, with a pre-show at 5:30, so I thought I would have a little time to sit down and catch up on my blogging, and maybe get a nap. At 3:00, someone in the barracks who had access to a staff car offered a few of us a ride back to the merit badge midway, just across from the entrance to the arena. Well, that was too good to pass up, so I jumped in.
I should, at this point, apologize to all of you who are trying to keep up with my escapades. Most of the time I have my blog written to within a day or three of the actual date, but finding a wireless network to access is infrequent, and even then, connections drop easily. By the time I get home, though, I will make sure everything gets posted.
So, I made it to the midway by about 4:00, and having nothing better to do, I went in and got the best spot in the house. Well almost. I sat down at the very front of the Western Region section, with an exit aisle right in front of me. I was exactly even with the right edge of the stage, and about 50 yards back. Perfect.
After twenty minutes of wondering if it would rain, one of the crew came along and told me I couldn’t sit there. I asked why not. He said that the staff seating area was over there, in front of stage left. I asked why I couldn’t just stay where I was, as I liked it here. He had no reasons, only orders, and you can’t argue with a man who has no reasons for what he’s doing, so I got up and relocated to the area he had indicated.
I made it twenty-five minutes before the next round. Different guy, same orders: Move farther left where you rebel scum belong, or something like that. I thought hard about rebelling for real, because I liked my new spot even better than the one before. I didn’t of course, wimp that I am.
The third time, though, I was starting to get mad. I stood up with the rest, but instead of walking over to the indicated internment camp, I walked over to another chap who looked like one who gave orders, and might have reasons for doing things. In short, he looked like he had half a brain.
Alas, looks can be deceiving. He called up the food chain and parroted what they told him, assuring me that I would not be asked to move again.
By the fifth time I had to find a new seat, all less desirable than the previous one after the second, I vowed that the next time I was asked to move I would simply ignore them. If that didn’t work, I would refuse, and if they threw me out of the show, it would be worth it.
Fortunately, my resolve wasn’t tested and they left me alone for the final four minutes before the preshow got going.
The preshow was mostly four guys running around and playing games with the audience, remote feeds from gatherings in other spots around the country, and a steel drum band from Trinidad and Tobago. The band was good.
At 7:45, they played a tape of President Obama congratulating the Boy Scouts on their 100th anniversary. All other presidents that I know of had actually come to the Jamboree to make their address, but he opted not to do the same. The timing was interesting as well; fifteen minutes before the national broadcast began. Either B. H. Obama did not want to be associated with the Boy Scouts and all that they stand for, or else the Boy Scouts did not want to be associated with the president, and all that he stands for. I’m not sure which it was, because I could see reasons for both to be true. Maybe both are.
Once the show got going, it was an amazing, high-energy affair. I have heard that you can watch a replay online at www.ustream.tv/shininglight and, though I haven’t looked myself, I have heard that the pre-show is posted there as well.
We had another jet fighter flyover to kick things off, though I wasn’t warned in advance, and so didn’t look until I heard them. By that time, they were almost gone, so I couldn’t identify them for you. The towers on the stage had giant flames that erupted twenty feet in the air a couple of times. Each time, you could feel the heat, even from as far back as I was. (Actually, I wasn’t all that far back. Maybe a third of the way or less. Mostly, my complaints were that they kept giving me a worse and worse angle on the stage.)
There was a display by the Black Daggers, another military skydiving/paratrooper group that did at least as well as the Golden Knights had. Amazingly precise.
Toward the end, they showed a video of what the Bectel Summit looks like, which will be the site for the 2013 National Jamboree. It does look amazing. In between jamborees it will be a high adventure camp, with whitewater rafting, kayaking, rappelling, mountain climbing, and, if the video was not playing tricks with perspective, a mile-long zip line.
The highlight of the show was the address given by Mike Rowe, the host of the Dirty Jobs TV show. Mike is an Eagle Scout, and he told about how he got started in Boy Scouts. His father decided it would be good for him, so he took him to a troop meeting in the basement of his church. His dad had to throw him out of the car. He said that at that age he was painfully shy and very uncoordinated. The first thing they did at the meeting was to play a game called “Swing the Thing.” This involved everyone forming a circle with one boy in the middle. The center boy held a rope, at the end of which was tied a bag of wet rags. The object of the game is for the boy to swing the weighted rope as fast as he can and for all the boys in the circle to jump over the bag as it goes by. If you mistimed your leap, you’ll get knocked over and you are then eliminated from the game. The last one remaining is declared the winner, and gets to swing the thing for the next round. Mike was the first one knocked down, and he wound up with a bloody nose.
“I hadn’t been there five minutes and I had a bloody nose. Things were going great,” Mike said.
When that game was over, they went outside and played “British Bulldog.” In this game, all but one person line up on one side of the field. At the shout of “go,” everyone tries to run to the other side of the field. The one in the middle tries to tackle someone and hold them to the ground long enough to say, “British bulldog,” which means that they’ve been caught and have to then work with other boy to help capture boys when they run back. The last one remaining is declared the winner, and gets to start the next game as the British bulldog.
Mike was the first one knocked down, and he wound up with a fat lip for his efforts.
“I hadn’t been there fifteen minutes and I had a bloody nose and a fat lip. Things were going great,” Mike said.
When the meeting started, the scoutmaster made Mike stand in the front and introduce himself to everyone. He was so nervous that he stuttered and stammered his way through it.
When he got home his parents asked him how things had gone, and he frankly told them that he hated it, but he wound up going again the next week, and the week after.
He said it took him a long time to figure out what it was that kept him coming back, and he finally determined that it was because Boy Scouts forces you to do things that make you uncomfortable, and facing those things makes you a better person.
He went on to relate that to his TV show. Dirty Jobs is all about people who perform necessary functions in the world that all of us would be uncomfortable doing.
He finished up by talking about his conundrum with the Scout Law, which declares, among other things, that a Scout is Clean, yet he makes his living doing dirty jobs. Clean is comfortable, and dirty is one of those things that you have to put yourself through to build yourself into someone capable of accomplishing great things. He has finally decided on a new saying, “A Scout is Clean, but he’s not afraid to get Dirty.”
The show had three more bands perform. Honor Society sang two songs, and spent all the time in between letting us know that their songs were available to download from iTunes. Switchfoot, whose name comes from a surfing term, were the headliners, and they sang three of four tunes and walked out into the audience to enormous cheers. Brian says he is a big Switchfoot fan, which surprised me. They’re a little heavier of a rock band than I thought he preferred. He says that Johnathan, a boy he rides bikes with all the time, is a huge fan, and that’s where he heard about them.
I have to admit that they are very talented, but it made me wish I were a little farther back from the three-storey tall speakers. I don’t care if that makes me sound old, I’ve earned my age.
The final performers were an a cappella group called Vocal Point. They were introduced as all Eagle Scouts, and they performed a song called “On My Honor,” which was amazing. I had actually heard of these guys before. They had all been part of BYU’s a cappella group before they graduated.
To finish off the evening, they put on the largest fireworks display ever hosted on a military base. It was impressive, to say the least. At one point, I was looking up as high as I could stretch when I realized that they were shooting off more fireworks behind me and to either side. Like I said, very impressive.
It was quarter to eleven when they wrapped things up and sent us to our beds. Some of the kids had several miles to walk, so I’m sure they had a late evening. I was in bed by one, but decided not to try writing this blog before switching off.
Day Twenty-one: Friday, 30 July, 2010
This morning was overcast again and the dark clouds threatened rain that only sprinkled for a few minutes here and there. At work, we had things down to a smooth routine. I would give the welcome and walk the scouts through step one, making fish lips and using their teeth to scrape loose skin cells from the inside of their cheeks, then spitting them into their plastic vials. Jason or Steve would describe step two, measuring and adding the lysis buffer solution to their vials, and all of us would walk around and distribute the solution. Step three was to hold the mixture in your fist to use body heat to warm it up. While they were doing that for five minutes, Joanna or Tom would talk about what DNA is and how it works. Steve or Jason would come back to explain step four, adding isopropyl alcohol without letting it mix in. While that sat for a few minutes, Fred or Mark would talk about how DNA is used in marine biology research, specifically with regard to dolphins and sea turtles in the Hawaiian Island chain. Yesterday, Jason broke into the end of the explanation and told a joke.
“Hey, guys, did you know that when sea turtles lay their eggs in the shade, they become male turtles, and when they lay them in the sun they become female turtles? Do you know why that is? Because dudes are totally cool, and chicks are totally hot!”
Now Fred has made the joke part of the speech, which helps fill the time needed for the chemical reaction to complete, but he just doesn’t have the same delivery as Jason, so the kids seldom laugh. And we’re all tired of the joke ourselves.
I tried switching up with the tortoise joke from Alice in Wonderland (or was it Through the Looking Glass?) “You know, I learned about DNA from my high school biology teacher, Mr. Turtle. Do you know why we called him Mr. Turtle? Because he tortoise.” (Because he taught us.) Not even one laugh. Ah well.
Mark and Jessi are nominally in charge of our area. Jessi is the only one who absolutely does not want to get up and talk in front of the boys, so she works on other things to stay busy.
I had the afternoon off again today, so I was planning to walk around and see some of the Jamboree. Brian came by just before lunch, so we ate lunch together. He had lost his buddy, so he stopped by at Tech Quest to find me. We went back to his campsite to let his leaders know where he was, in case his buddies had returned to report him missing. They hadn’t. Then Brian and I went and stood in line to go off the forty-foot rappelling tower. Brian explained that the army builds forty-foot towers because that’s the highest you can be and still feel afraid of heights. Once you’re up too far, like in an airplane, you aren’t afraid of falling, just interested in seeing what’s down there. I’m not sure I entirely buy that explanation. Anyway, I got all the way to the bottom without the slightest twinge of fear and suddenly realized that I had forgotten to look down at all. Hmm, no wonder.
I did learn that Brian can whip me seven ways from Sunday at rock climbing. Perhaps he has had much more practice than me, or perhaps I’m just too fat, old, and weak. I would vote for a good portion of both.
The two of us wandered through the merit badge midway after that, since Brian had seen a Camaro he wanted to show me. We never found it again, but he did get to show me the hang glider he had helped to put together and take down while he was working on his aviation merit badge. I think I have also convinced him to take the engineering merit badge classes while he is here, since they had a good display and program running while we walked by.
Brian also told me that today was a day of “epic awesomeness.” After breakfast, one of the patrol leaders in his troop had shouted, “What troop are we?”
“730!”
“What day is it?”
“7/30!”
“What time is it?”
“7:30!” Accompanied by whoops and yells.
I told him that he could do it all again after dinner tonight, which he thought would be “epic.”
On our way out of the midway and back to the east, Brian found someone from his troop that he could buddy up with, so we parted ways. I walked back to the bus stop and made it our to Wilcox camp about the same time I would have if I had worked a full day. Maybe a half hour later.
So the evening was the same as normal; dinner, shower, call Pam, go to bed; with one notable exception. Most of the people in my barracks work at the merit badge midway, and so they brought equipment for teaching scouts. Amongst the group they had come up with a laptop, a projector, and Bose speakers. They hung a white sheet on a clothesline and the barracks all watched Iron Man tonight right before lights out.
Pam and Company had again found a few things to delay their travels, and I don’t blame them. The freeway they were on went right past Seibert, CO, which is where Pam’s dad’s parents had met and married. So they stopped for an hour or so and looked around the town. There were a few other things too, like needing to recharge the air conditioner. Again, I can’t blame them for taking the time to take care of that immediately. Anyway, they didn’t arrive in Jerome, ID for the night until almost 1:00 am.
“Hey, guys, did you know that when sea turtles lay their eggs in the shade, they become male turtles, and when they lay them in the sun they become female turtles? Do you know why that is? Because dudes are totally cool, and chicks are totally hot!”
Now Fred has made the joke part of the speech, which helps fill the time needed for the chemical reaction to complete, but he just doesn’t have the same delivery as Jason, so the kids seldom laugh. And we’re all tired of the joke ourselves.
I tried switching up with the tortoise joke from Alice in Wonderland (or was it Through the Looking Glass?) “You know, I learned about DNA from my high school biology teacher, Mr. Turtle. Do you know why we called him Mr. Turtle? Because he tortoise.” (Because he taught us.) Not even one laugh. Ah well.
Mark and Jessi are nominally in charge of our area. Jessi is the only one who absolutely does not want to get up and talk in front of the boys, so she works on other things to stay busy.
I had the afternoon off again today, so I was planning to walk around and see some of the Jamboree. Brian came by just before lunch, so we ate lunch together. He had lost his buddy, so he stopped by at Tech Quest to find me. We went back to his campsite to let his leaders know where he was, in case his buddies had returned to report him missing. They hadn’t. Then Brian and I went and stood in line to go off the forty-foot rappelling tower. Brian explained that the army builds forty-foot towers because that’s the highest you can be and still feel afraid of heights. Once you’re up too far, like in an airplane, you aren’t afraid of falling, just interested in seeing what’s down there. I’m not sure I entirely buy that explanation. Anyway, I got all the way to the bottom without the slightest twinge of fear and suddenly realized that I had forgotten to look down at all. Hmm, no wonder.
I did learn that Brian can whip me seven ways from Sunday at rock climbing. Perhaps he has had much more practice than me, or perhaps I’m just too fat, old, and weak. I would vote for a good portion of both.
The two of us wandered through the merit badge midway after that, since Brian had seen a Camaro he wanted to show me. We never found it again, but he did get to show me the hang glider he had helped to put together and take down while he was working on his aviation merit badge. I think I have also convinced him to take the engineering merit badge classes while he is here, since they had a good display and program running while we walked by.
Brian also told me that today was a day of “epic awesomeness.” After breakfast, one of the patrol leaders in his troop had shouted, “What troop are we?”
“730!”
“What day is it?”
“7/30!”
“What time is it?”
“7:30!” Accompanied by whoops and yells.
I told him that he could do it all again after dinner tonight, which he thought would be “epic.”
On our way out of the midway and back to the east, Brian found someone from his troop that he could buddy up with, so we parted ways. I walked back to the bus stop and made it our to Wilcox camp about the same time I would have if I had worked a full day. Maybe a half hour later.
So the evening was the same as normal; dinner, shower, call Pam, go to bed; with one notable exception. Most of the people in my barracks work at the merit badge midway, and so they brought equipment for teaching scouts. Amongst the group they had come up with a laptop, a projector, and Bose speakers. They hung a white sheet on a clothesline and the barracks all watched Iron Man tonight right before lights out.
Pam and Company had again found a few things to delay their travels, and I don’t blame them. The freeway they were on went right past Seibert, CO, which is where Pam’s dad’s parents had met and married. So they stopped for an hour or so and looked around the town. There were a few other things too, like needing to recharge the air conditioner. Again, I can’t blame them for taking the time to take care of that immediately. Anyway, they didn’t arrive in Jerome, ID for the night until almost 1:00 am.
Day Twenty: Thursday, 29 July, 2010
This morning was more of the usual routine: breakfast, long bus ride, setup, work. After lunch, though, I had the rest of the day off. I didn’t feel much like standing in the hour-long line to catch a bus down to where I could catch a bus out to my barracks, so I headed out on foot, with the intention of stopping to see Brian’s camp along the way. I hadn’t walked more than a quarter mile when the thunder started and suddenly someone was dumping out bathtubs full of warm water overhead. And then the wind kicked in.
I was not prepared, which is a hard thing for a scout to admit. In my defense, I hadn’t really had an opportunity to watch the weather report on the news before turning in last night, what with no TV or radio in the barracks. Anyway, the rain didn’t bother me that much. I was soaked through in less than a minute, but it’s not the first time that’s happened, and the rain was not too cold (except for the wind). The problem was that my bag was not waterproof. That lasted maybe two minutes before it too was soaked.
After about thirty minutes, the rain stopped. It was sunny again by the time I made it to Brian’s camp. They had survived everything all right. It appeared that they hadn’t seen as much rain as my area had, but they still got dumped on pretty well.
After that visit, I walked to the central transfer point and caught the bus out to Wilcox. After changing out of still-wet clothes, I headed over to see if I could use the base laundry room. I had heard that there was a sign posted saying that BSA personnel could use the room from 2400 to 0600, but I thought I would see if I could use it during daylight hours so long as I was willing to yield to the soldiers. When I got there, I found that there were plenty of open machines, and the soldiers in the room were fine with my using them.
Laundry done, I went to dinner just before they closed the cafeteria, hit the shower, called Pam, and headed for bed.
Pam spent a little time seeing a few things in the Kansas City area, so she was running a little behind schedule. She plans to stop for the night in Colby, KS. I think that will put her two time zones behind me.
I was not prepared, which is a hard thing for a scout to admit. In my defense, I hadn’t really had an opportunity to watch the weather report on the news before turning in last night, what with no TV or radio in the barracks. Anyway, the rain didn’t bother me that much. I was soaked through in less than a minute, but it’s not the first time that’s happened, and the rain was not too cold (except for the wind). The problem was that my bag was not waterproof. That lasted maybe two minutes before it too was soaked.
After about thirty minutes, the rain stopped. It was sunny again by the time I made it to Brian’s camp. They had survived everything all right. It appeared that they hadn’t seen as much rain as my area had, but they still got dumped on pretty well.
After that visit, I walked to the central transfer point and caught the bus out to Wilcox. After changing out of still-wet clothes, I headed over to see if I could use the base laundry room. I had heard that there was a sign posted saying that BSA personnel could use the room from 2400 to 0600, but I thought I would see if I could use it during daylight hours so long as I was willing to yield to the soldiers. When I got there, I found that there were plenty of open machines, and the soldiers in the room were fine with my using them.
Laundry done, I went to dinner just before they closed the cafeteria, hit the shower, called Pam, and headed for bed.
Pam spent a little time seeing a few things in the Kansas City area, so she was running a little behind schedule. She plans to stop for the night in Colby, KS. I think that will put her two time zones behind me.
Day Nineteen: Wednesday, 28 July, 2010
Yesterday morning was the “Opening Arena Show,” which seems odd to me, having been here for a few days already. Anyway, it was a lot of fun. Several Boy Scout executives spoke, Miss America spoke and sang, the Army Golden Knights paratroopers performed, there was a flyover by F-16s, the governor of Virginia welcomed us, and there were a few other things I don’t recall at the moment.
Of course, the line to get into the natural bowl for the show was fifteen people wide and an hour long. I didn’t expect to see anyone familiar in a crowd that large, but less than halfway in I looked over and the man standing to my right, who was turned away, had on a Columbia Pacific Council patch, and I thought, “Hey, he’s from my council.” Then I noticed his troop number was 628, and I thought, “Hey, that was my troop number in Astoria when I was a scout.” And lo and behold, when he turned back around it was Frank Van Winkle, who at one point was my assistant scoutmaster. We sat together for the show and did a little catching up. Small world, isn’t it?
It was less hot when the day started today, but more humid. Overall, I think it was easier to handle. Sitting down on the grass in the wide open bowl for so long, I got sunburned on my knees. I hadn’t been putting sunscreen there, because they hadn’t been seeing all that much sun, what with my belly to provide shade. Anyway, I didn’t even notice until shower-time last night. They got some ointment at bedtime, and a healthy dose of sunscreen today.
As expected, there was no more pretending to be dead today, but I still got to handle introductions. Other than that, there were not a lot of changes at work today. Just running a group of scouts through the same twenty minute presentation over and over. There is a little more that I can participate in, since I don’t have to lie in the sun for most of the discourse now.
That was pretty much my day, breakfast, long bus ride, setup, work, lunch, work, long bus ride, dinner, shower, bed.
The barracks are a little hard to get used to. There are 44 bunks in each of two bays, with a walkway going the full length of the building. In the middle, separating the two bays, is a room with four showers to the north and a divided bathroom and washroom on the south side. Instead of doors, the toilet stalls have shower curtains that almost reach from one side to the other, just like the curtains in the showers. Oh well, if I don’t get used to it, at least it won’t last forever.
Pam and the others were in Branson, MO tonight, watching a show there. Tomorrow morning they’ll head out for the mad dash back home. Mica has to leave for another week-long activity next Monday, which doesn’t leave much time for sightseeing from here on out.
Of course, the line to get into the natural bowl for the show was fifteen people wide and an hour long. I didn’t expect to see anyone familiar in a crowd that large, but less than halfway in I looked over and the man standing to my right, who was turned away, had on a Columbia Pacific Council patch, and I thought, “Hey, he’s from my council.” Then I noticed his troop number was 628, and I thought, “Hey, that was my troop number in Astoria when I was a scout.” And lo and behold, when he turned back around it was Frank Van Winkle, who at one point was my assistant scoutmaster. We sat together for the show and did a little catching up. Small world, isn’t it?
It was less hot when the day started today, but more humid. Overall, I think it was easier to handle. Sitting down on the grass in the wide open bowl for so long, I got sunburned on my knees. I hadn’t been putting sunscreen there, because they hadn’t been seeing all that much sun, what with my belly to provide shade. Anyway, I didn’t even notice until shower-time last night. They got some ointment at bedtime, and a healthy dose of sunscreen today.
As expected, there was no more pretending to be dead today, but I still got to handle introductions. Other than that, there were not a lot of changes at work today. Just running a group of scouts through the same twenty minute presentation over and over. There is a little more that I can participate in, since I don’t have to lie in the sun for most of the discourse now.
That was pretty much my day, breakfast, long bus ride, setup, work, lunch, work, long bus ride, dinner, shower, bed.
The barracks are a little hard to get used to. There are 44 bunks in each of two bays, with a walkway going the full length of the building. In the middle, separating the two bays, is a room with four showers to the north and a divided bathroom and washroom on the south side. Instead of doors, the toilet stalls have shower curtains that almost reach from one side to the other, just like the curtains in the showers. Oh well, if I don’t get used to it, at least it won’t last forever.
Pam and the others were in Branson, MO tonight, watching a show there. Tomorrow morning they’ll head out for the mad dash back home. Mica has to leave for another week-long activity next Monday, which doesn’t leave much time for sightseeing from here on out.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)