Summer Camp

 


All my friends would get very excited... 

During the last week of school... 

Summer camp would soon be starting... 

We couldn’t wait to jump in the pool...


Summer camp was always a blast...

I usually went with my younger brother... 

They would always pair us up together... 

At the request of my worrisome mother...


I was always athletically inclined... 

My brother, well, not so much...

I always tried to spur him along... 

He never wanted the help, as such...


My bus driver picked us in the morning... 

Coach Charlie Bishop was his name...

He was always mad because I was always late...

On my brother I would place the blame...


It was always great meeting new friends...

The team competition was always fun...

No matter how the teams were matched... 

The harder and faster I would run...


Sometimes the boys would argue...

And sometimes boys would disagree...

Whenever two boys couldn’t resolve the issue...

They’d put us in the ring so all camp could see...


It was all part of just being boys...

No one ever really got hurt...

And always after the issues were resolved…

We would enjoy a snowball for dessert...


We looked forward to the camp championship... 

As our Summer camp was coming to a close...

The Celtics team always beat my Bullets...

It might have been rigged, but who really knows...


I thoroughly enjoyed going to my Summer camp... 

And usually ended up with a new best friend...

But the new school year was about to start...

As another camp year came to an end...


© 2022 Jeffrey Pipes Guice

My Wonder Years: A Book

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Warren Easton High School

Image
  I loved going to Warren Easton. I remember my very first day, going straight to the gym and getting myself into a pick up basketball game with Kenny “Kid Funk” Moss and Kerry “Cooley High” Washington, two guys who happened to play on the school basketball team. We kept winning games together, as a team, and I felt really good playing with these guys. While they didn’t yet know my name, they kept calling me “Pistol Pete” because of my moves and jump shot. Yes, I still had it. We finally lost to Richard “Crip” Simms’ team. As we sat in the bleachers waiting to get back in, they asked me about my story and how I got to Easton, and so on.  As high school kids do, they ended up telling me about which of the cheerleaders they had slept with, etc., which led to a discussion/brag session about our favorite lines and moves that we were “known for” with the ladies. After many stories, some half truths and some hysterical lies, I ended up with the nickname “Peter the Eater” for the res...
Read more

My Senior Year

Image
  I still had my fake ID from East Jefferson High School, which said I was now 19 years old, so I applied for a weekend job as a bar back at Bruno‘s Tavern on Maple Street, the home of bartender legend, George Rankin, and second home to Fletcher, the police guard who protected Audubon Place residents. This was great news on so many levels. As one could imagine, I obviously couldn’t stand still just being a bar back, so eventually I assigned myself the job of bouncer and late night bartender while the other bartenders were taking a break. Again, as one could imagine, I immediately started letting in all of my Uptown friends that I had made through Walker and Bill, including Arthur Fort, Tony Benjamin, John Denegre, Max Hart, Danny Pick, Larkin Selman, and so many others. My drink of choice became the gin and tonic, with a wedge of lime, and since I was making them for myself, I immediately developed a pretty good habit of drinking five or six each night. It was either Walker or Lark...
Read more

My Oyster Love Affair

Image
  My love affair started early... Just a skinny sixteen year old boy... I was working at Stephen & Martin’s... I was willing, but acting somewhat coy... An old black oyster shucker... Mr. Carl was his name... “Boy, once you try one of these... Your life ain’t never gonna be da same!” Being coaxed on by the patrons... I stared at the meat on the half shell... “Suck her up, boy!” yelled Mr. Montgomery...  “She’ll be the first of many, I do tell!” Sitting cross legged next to Mr. Montgomery...  Sat his perfectly beautiful wife... She licked her lips and offered a wink... “This was going to be a special day in your life...” She picked up the shell from the marble top bar...  Held it gently between her thumb and finger... I could smell the scent of her exotic perfume...  My boyish thoughts were starting to linger... As everyone was now watching... I stared down at the gooey blob... I could feel my confidence growing...  As my head began to slowly bob... ...
Read more