There are few things that make camp life bearable, and the food is one of them. It’s usually delicious, but if you don’t like something, there is sixty other things to choose from. Take breakfast, for instance: You can have whatever you want. I have cottage cheese and fresh fruit, except for one day, when they were out of cottage cheese. That day, I had a loaded omelet and a whack of [easyazon_link identifier=”B00I5OMFWO” locale=”US” tag=”granligh-20″]bacon[/easyazon_link]. I love breakfast, and I love choices, but I do miss my breakfast from back home. Yep, you may have guessed it; a dirty old Tim’s sandwich and The Big Breakfast. There’s a three hour time difference, so by the time I get up, eat and get ready for work, it’s 6:45, and I’ve missed everything. I miss the walks down nostalgia path with Joe, the jokes, Megan P., and Inga B., but most of all, I miss Jay Sharp. I miss his soothing voice, and the way he patronizes me when I give a filthy answer for the trivia question. I miss his smell as I drive by the station on the 401. You know the one; kind of a mixture between [easyazon_link identifier=”B00KE62DWS” locale=”US” tag=”granligh-20″]turpentine[/easyazon_link], [easyazon_link identifier=”B00LKU1O36″ locale=”US” tag=”granligh-20″]cabbage[/easyazon_link], and Danny DeVito’s ass crack. That is pure Jay, ladies and gentlemen, and even Chuck Norris couldn’t kill that powerful essence.
I wish Jay could wield his magic, and make The Bear in Fort Nelson play his syndicated morning show in the afternoon out here. Oh the joy I would feel if such a thing were to happen. I would frolic around the water hole, and dance my dance of whimsy, whilst singing “[easyazon_link identifier=”B0016NWX5U” locale=”US” tag=”granligh-20″]Blinded By The Light[/easyazon_link]” at the top of my lungs. I would do this until my lungs froze, and then the mandaid could put me on oxygen in his MTC, while driving me to the hospital. I wonder if you can hear the radio back there? If not, I’ll have to wait until we get to where I can listen to it on my phone. You know what they say about wishes… You don’t? Oh, I’m sure it’s something philosophical.
While I’m being wishful, maybe I could wish Joel Scott to leave the dance music for a little while, and join Jay and Meg for some serious discussions about [easyazon_link identifier=”B00RVYW2PY” locale=”US” tag=”granligh-20″]skin tags[/easyazon_link], [easyazon_link identifier=”1503166724″ locale=”US” tag=”granligh-20″]gout[/easyazon_link] or [easyazon_link identifier=”0857232924″ locale=”US” tag=”granligh-20″]archaeology[/easyazon_link]. I’m sure it will be skin tags, because I don’t think any of them are archaeologists, or have had gout. This is just a guess, mind you; I’m sure Jay has come close when his wife was out of town, and he did nothing but play [easyazon_link identifier=”B01DPUVMNU” locale=”US” tag=”granligh-20″]video games[/easyazon_link], drink red wine by the box, and eat only [easyazon_link identifier=”B00B2BR3VA” locale=”US” tag=”granligh-20″]head cheese[/easyazon_link] and butter sandwiches. I really like Joel’s personality, but can only stomach the music when the girls are in the car, or the house. I like that Joe, Inga and Meg, all go back and forth between the stations, because I can then imagine what Jay would be saying if he were there. That’s usually when I go back to bed, and listen to The Breeze in the cocoon. I especially like to call in from the warmth of the [easyazon_link identifier=”B00635VODS” locale=”US” tag=”granligh-20″]duvet[/easyazon_link], because I think that’s when my voice is sexiest.
Wow, that’s what you call “going off on a tangent”. I think I’ll get back to camp food now. I suppose lunch is next, but I usually grab that at breakfast. If you are lucky enough to be around camp at lunch, there’s always a pot of homemade soup on, and usually some fresh baked bread. I’m not usually that lucky, so I choose from whatever’s left in the sandwich cooler, the salad bar, and the fresh fruit table. There’s usually slices of pizza, but a lot of the time there’s pineapple on it, so blech. All in all, it’s a pretty decent set up, for lunch anyways.
Supper is where it’s at around here, and Saturday is the day of reckoning. Steak night, is the greatest night of the week. My personal motto is “Live every night, like it’s steak night.” They go all out on Saturday, with steaks, shrimp, mushrooms and onions, garlic toast and onion rings. It’s not as good as having a beer with my baby, while we BBQ a couple of thick sirloins at home, but if you have to be in camp, you might as well make the best of it. Every other night is good too, because the cooks actually put some thought and creativity into what they are doing. The camp business is very competitive out here, and that makes it great for us, because no one is sending us to those shitty old camps, with cold floors, wool blankets, frozen windows, and an outdoor walk to the kitchen. Why would you go there, when you can stay in a nice, new camp, that has a gym, games room, and satellite TV in the rooms? Anyhow, there is a ton of really good food here, but I’m watching my intake, because I was on the verge of needing [easyazon_link identifier=”B005CSOGIC” locale=”US” tag=”granligh-20″]new pants[/easyazon_link] when I left, and seeing as I’m lazy, I sure won’t be working out while I’m here.
She got down, but she never got tired, she’s gonna make it through the night,