For a week to Camp Ogontz I go
With my precious Paxman in tow.
I sent my money to Kendall Betts
And he sent some hints that I should know.
"You need to bring cool weather clothes
Like those worn by the Eskimos.
Since mountain weather is hard to predict
Bring shorts and swimsuit too. Who knows!"
"We have rental sheets and blankets for you,"
Kendall told me--right on cue.
"Don’t pack up your steamer trunk,
Just fork over a buck or two."
"Bring your boat and bring your bike,
A tennis racquet if you’d like.
Fishing and swimming, anyone?
Horseback riding or maybe a hike?
This is the way we wash our duds,
Pounded with rocks, don’t need no suds.
Never mind the holes in your pants
And when we laugh, don’t bare your grudge.
Feel free to harmonize with nature,
Mosquito repellent has a place here.
And if you go silently in the night,
You’ll hear humming in minor AND major.
Everyone here does his work share.
Slackers get no sympathetique there.
Clean, garden, recycle or go-fer,
Then partake of the scrumptious fare.
The teachers are Vincent, David, Abby,
Jean, Michael, James, and Barry,
Kris, Steven, Milton, Soichiro,
And of Professor "G." be wary.
They are all experts, we agree
Each is perfect in pedagogy.
And when they play the sparks do fly.
That’s how Camp Ogontz gets electricity!
Pick up your tired lips off the floor,
Nod your head and shout, "Please, more!"
If you "hang-in-there" the whole week,
Your brain will exponentially expand by 4/4.
Pull up a stand and play a few sets
In Camp Ogontz, with Kendall Betts.
I intend to return next year
‘Cause this is about as good as life gets.
(Reprinted from The Horn Call / November 1999 by permission
of the author)
