Wednesday, 18 July 2012

THE EXACT OPPOSITE OF CIVILIZATION

WHAT'S WRONG WITH THIS PICTURE?
Well how about EVERYTHING? Tarps? Muddy elbows? Damp food in plastic wrap?
HALF-EMPTY WINE BOTTLE? Good God, just take me to a hotel.


So, camping, what's with that? What's the thing? I just don't get it. To me it is one giant step backward for mankind. 
Think about it: you go to the bathroom in murky holes so fetid they trigger your gag reflex, you cook over an open flame (assuming you can keep it going long enough to undercook whatever meat you brought with you), you spend the better part of the day gathering wood and cooking and cleaning up and then, if you're lucky, you have time for a boring game of cards before the final, ultimate luxury: sleeping on a mat in the dirt. 

Really, people. Haven't we evolved beyond this point?
The On-Again and I had a chance to experience this sacred ritual recently when we visited my daughter and her husband, who were camping in Grand Bend. 
How quaint, we thought. Two generations bonding in the wilds. It'll be fun!
Instead, it turned out to be a textbook example of the worst time four people can possibly have, ever.  

For starters, it began raining as soon as we got there, and became torrential within minutes. So what, I says. Let's just have a drink and get din-din going.
Right. Din-din. 
Normally, I would rather eat the dirt you chip out from your sneaker treads than a hotdog. It's the ultimate mystery meat. And marshmallows? If you soaked a cheap pillow in aspartame for three days and then cut it into squares, that would taste better. Yet that day, I wolfed back these very items with zeal, because at least it took my mind off the driving rain and mosquitoes the size of kidney beans.
 
After three hours of this, we'd had enough. Sorry kids, love ya, gotta go. 
The kids debated cutting and running, then the rain stopped and they decided to tough it out. They told me later that it resumed raining at about 3 a.m. By 4 a.m., they couldn't take it anymore and drove 45 minutes to the nearest motel, where they slept until the hedonistic hour of 6 a.m. Then they went home and had a good cry.
Ah well, at least one member of the family had a great time.