America the poor: A Wanderers Tale, Volume One

Chapter 20: Camping with friends,and A New Talent

So a caution for my readers so far, my memory is patchy for this period, and I can only write of what I do know, and what I've been reminded of, with the help of others. Just a word, I include whatever I can. It was a strange time, cloudy, stressful, and I test my sanity by recounting what I know, but it must be told the best that I can.

There was a point where my friends, Patricia and Chris and other christian families were going on a camping trip to a popular campsite and recreation area, in the New York upstate woods. Actually, unknown to outsiders, New York state actually has plenty of woods, once you leave the cities. Many Americans only picture New York City when they hear of NY state, which is a misnomer.

It is a quite large state, with quakers, amish, and lots of small towns and vast woods, all throughout the entire state. I've personally met many of the simpler folk like the above mentioned, and they are good beings. Preferring to keep life quieter, and less complicated, and who can blame them? We are living in literally insane times, and I long for simplicity, and less chaos, which is the signature of modern living, it's all chaos, and complexity. The simplicity of life has been lost on our society, for the last century.

The camping trip was planned for a full 3 day weekend I think, and my mother agreed quickly, probably just to get rid of me for the period. She had a new husband, and wanted to enjoy the privacy I'm sure. So it was decided, I would leave with them on a friday, and come back Monday afternoon, and I think it was a holiday weekend. As for me, I was only too glad to get away, be with friends, eat grilled burgers, see some woods, and not be around my mother and her new sleazy love. I guess I needed a break as well.

The planned weekend came, and we drove at least two hours to get there. It was a public but paid campground area, with water and electric hookups. Since it was summertime, lots of other campers were around, I dare to say, it was a bit too crowded for my liking, still it was something different. Until this time, my hours around these folks were kinda limited, A few hours here and there, never any significant lengthy periods. I learned more about them, and they about me. We went on some walks, Chris and I, trying to find some quieter areas away from the crowds if possible. Food was good. It turned out I loved eating grilled stuff more than home cooked.

However, I also learned that I love everything burnt, hot dogs, burgers, sausage, steaks, whatever was meat, if it was almost ashes, I liked it best. Just one of my personal idiosyncrasies I guess. The blacker and crispier, the better. No accounting for taste.

One day I went wandering on my own, as was already established as my very nature. I ended up stumbling upon a semi-crowded "recreation area" in the middle of the campground. I just had lunch with my friends, so it was probably early afternoon. It was a medium sized building, mainly filled with teens. There was table hockey, arcade games(of course there were since teens were there), and central to it all, a paid pool table.

Just out of pure curiosity, I stood and watched. I had never up to this point played pool before, just watched it on TV sometimes; looked kinda fun. Not too complex, action based, but also seemed a thinking game. I was intrigued, watching how others would shoot, trying to line them up, and failing often to make their intended shots. The rules seemed almost too simple to me, solids and stripes, and a black 8 ball to finish and win.

Those who wished to play, put a mere quarter on the table, and of course there were more than a few. However, the winner kept playing for free after his original game. Only challengers had to pay to face the previous winner. Seemed fair enough to me. The rules were set, and known, no leeway, or room for error, which i've always liked.

So at some point, after observing a few games for a while, I put my own quarter on the table. There were a few ahead, but one thing I've always been is patient. More than a few times in my life, patience has been an advantage, I'm glad to say. I waited, standing around, never mingling, nor talking. I was young(around 11) but had little in common mentally with other teens around me. Some were my age, but many were older.