[Part 1 of my interview with Dan can be found here. And Part 1 of my interview with David is located here.]

If memory serves, this is Cabin 15 in 1999. From left to right: Danny Aronson, Axel Owen, David Will, Glenn Latsch, Dan Gibbons and Steve Lehmann.

Let’s talk camp games (Capture The Flag, Capture The Indian Clubs). What camp game was your favorite? Why?
 
DAN GIBBONS: As I started to write this super long email, the fact that I just read World War z after borrowing The Zombie Survival Guide from David Will [came to mind and] I realized I had to get him in on this email. (Foreshadowing with the zombie reference)
 
I loved camp games!

I must say, I really enjoyed when the schedule on Saturday [lined up so] that you would get a day game and sometimes even a game at night, too. Like capture the flag in the day and then Capture The Indian Clubs at night.

I loved Capture The Three Flags. I still remember one year (maybe Bunkhouse or Cabin 15), I got two near flags that summer. I still consider that a successful camp year almost solely because of that. Getting a flag was something reserved for the Paul Hillman’s and Mac Harris’ of the world. To get a flag (even just the Near Flag) was truly awesome. You were a celebrity for the rest of the game and the following soda and swim afterwards.

Capture The Indian Clubs… what a hilarious name. Capture The Indian Clubs. It’s really funny when you think about. What is an indian club? If I didn’t know the game, I would think of like a super old ’30s cartoon with these pilgrims sneaking into an indian camp and stealing these big war clubs.
 
I remember being in the younger cabins, when you finally got those pins… it was so awesome. You would strut across the lawn with that prize for everyone to see—great in those stalemate games. I remember [at that age] that pin was fairly heavy and powerful when you had to carry it back!

However, while that reward was sweet, I think most everyone loved the total rampage games!And especially when it was Super C The ICs! Jails in the middle! Chain from jail to freedom! How awesome was that?!

My worst, but to this day, funniest memory of C The ICs was in a rampage game. I had just captured a pin and after I brought it back I went on guarding duty. My head’s on a swivel, looking for anyone to come my way. Then right in front of me, running full steam, I see Rich Siegler barreling down on me. I am sure “barreling” is the right term (In retrospect, I am sure Rich Siegler is not that big compared to any of us nowadays, but a slightly overweight freshmen in high school running at a fourth grader! Well, that’s scary!) I recall him running very upright with his belly out front. I recall basically bouncing off his stomach like something out of weird Japanimation cartoon. Especially with Rich Siegler’s crazy long, curly hair and me crying like a child afterward. (Maybe [his hair] was short at that time, but that’s how I remember it.) I got knocked out of the way and someone else took the pin. I was defeated and hated Rich Siegler… for the next ten minutes. Rough tactics but smart strategy by Siegler. 

Dan Gibbons: 1995. An example of how tiny this kid once was. That's Lake Owen in the background. This may have been taken at the Two Lakes campground.

One thing about camp games that I think helped make me a good person is they were so reliant on honesty. Especially in a game like Capture The Flag where you play over so much land. No one would be able to verify if you were truly tagged. However, if  an overwhelming amount of people didn’t play fair and honest, those games would have never worked and would have been horrible. A huge part of my camp memory would have been gone if people didn’t just understand that you had to play honest. I think part of it is the age you’re at as a kid. Games are everything and being declared a cheater is a reputation that’s bad to have. 
 
That being said, playing pick up basketball [nowadays], it amazes how some people play. They will foul hard and then yell and complain when you call one. It’s like “Buddy, you know you hit me. How are you trying to deny it?” Maybe they are trying to play mental games, but really, I bet most of them normally just play games where there are officials and never really understood how important it is for players to be honest and aware for games to be… well, fun!
 
This may be a bit of an outlandish connection at this point, [but] it makes since in my mind. Sorry if it doesn’t make since in my email!
 
(Foreshadowing about to come into play…)

Alright. So, I just finished World War z. Awesome book. I am just so amazed by how throughly thought out it is. It’s really unbelievable for anyone to think through something so thoroughly with a “What if…” situation.
 
Anywho… One game I always loved was The Blob! What a great game! Even once you got tagged it was so fun!

So, you’re asking yourself, “What’s the connection?” If there was ever one game that has to be the closest (of games) to a Walking Dead outbreak, it has got to be The Blob. Hear me out…
 
-Once you are tagged you become one of the infected.
-Your sole purpose is to “eat brains” or infect others.
-You might not always plan it, but once [you're] “it” your greatest asset is using your number advantage.
-As an individual you are often cornered and overwhelmed.
-As soon as you let down your guard…”brains!”
 
And imagine this scenario… I always thought I was pretty good at The Blob and one of the better athletes at camp in those type of games (Clearly not at things like riflery, canoeing, archery…) and that is kinda how you view yourself in a zombie apocalypse scenario. You think, “Hey, I’m going to be one of those people who survive.” 
 
But the reality of it is, you don’t know. It’s a gamble! Maybe once you get rooted in your fortress and once you truly understand what’s taking place you can figure out a strategy and survive, but in the beginning there is a luck factor and the same is true for The Blob.
 
You would be dodging one blob that has been targeting you and not really paying to attention to anything else (You can’t. You gotta think about the immediate threat first.), but then all of sudden you realize there are three… no four… no five blobs closing in on you when before there were only two!  As they close in you look farther out and realize over half the field is covered in BLOB. Then… from behind… bam, you’re infected! 
 
And of course when you are first infected, you’re disappointed and don’t want to give in and attack others. But then… you turn!
 
Alright. Like I said, I just finished World War Z. So, in reality I look at every neighborhood, alley way and building [now] and think, “What would happen here in an all out zombie attack?”

I think it’s still a pretty good comparison.

Dan, your point on honesty learned in camp games… wow! Spot on! In basketball practices all through high school I always called myself for fouls. When I fouled a guy who was my teammate/friend, it seemed only natural I should call it. It doesn’t do me any favors by being an asshole and not calling it. That was my thought process, at least. Looking back, I think that must be due to camp. The friendship and community really made you look at the big picture and, in that picture, being an asshole and arguing “fouls” didn’t make sense. Unfortunately, this attitude was extremely rare in competitive high school sports. It still amazes me that people would argue fouls or call fouls on their friends and teammates in practice to make excuses or look good. Camp, man, it does a body good…

Your guys’ cabin was always kooky (Which one wasn’t though?) and you guys had some goofy inside jokes—Yacancha the six-foot-tall rat was one of them, I believe. Tell me a little bit about that goofiness.

DAVID WILL: I think the goofiness found at camp is ultimately due to three or four major contributing factors. First and foremost, camp brings together people from all over the country and the world, with different cultures, sources of entertainment and humor. As such, there is a strange fusion of cultures that happens in the north woods, where—for example—the Tupac of one camper is mixed with the Star Wars cards of another camper and mashed together with shopping cart fetish of a third. Surprisingly, these combinations work well, as camp’s culture tended to be a pretty accepting. If you were a dweeb, or a jock, or anything in between, you could find ways to contribute to the culture. Obviously there would be those who would clash with the culture of camp, and by in large, it seems to me that those campers tended to be the ones who couldn’t embrace the accepting inclusive nature of camp. Typically, the campers would pick fights, make fun of cabin mates, etc, [they] tended to be those who only stayed on year.

On top of cultural differences, another huge contributing factor was the almost total lack of female presence at camp. Without girls around, no one was trying to impress each other or put the competition down. We could worry about important things like being a team member, working on ability, playing hard. We could build a mono-gender community in strange ways that would be impossible with both sexes. Major locations for camaraderie included group showers, the stalls of the latrines, heck, even morning dipping helped give camp a unique flavor. In fact, in the male only culture, the unexpected presence of girls throws things off. Once, I had to drop trow and adjust my boxers in public, a perfectly reasonable thing to do at camp. Unexpectedly, I came across Rick Levi’s wife and had to do immediate evasive action to preserve some semblance of modesty. 

Camp’s quirkiness is also due to what is commonly known as “cabin fever.” When you are stuck in a fairly reclusive area with a small set of people for weeks at a time, you become a bit crazy.  A good way to think of it is unbridled creativity meeting unopposed insanity. That craziness manifests in all sorts of ways, like developing odd imaginary creatures (like the six foot rat Yacancha), tickling people on the abdomen then smacking them on the head (“Pillsbeery… DoughBOY!”), joining imaginary and irrelevant clans like “NATO” or “OTAN,” or inventing new games such as “Pelt Axel with the Potatoes.”

Together all of this leads to the perfect storm of goofiness, and frankly, that goofiness allowed camp to be such a good place to grow. There are many examples of our combined goofiness that I could share, but we certainly don’t have the time for all of them. One such story is that of ”Pubobaby” or PB. PB was a brain child of Danny Gibbons and myself after long hours paddling on the Namekagon River.  As the camper canoe, we had fallen significantly behind the other canoes and were struggling to catch up. Out of the exhaustion came the idea that our canoe was being followed by a small mustached baby in the water named PB. We inserted him into the camp songs as we sang them and told odd tales of his existence. Our midweight, Steve Lehmann, for some reason became somewhat paranoid by all this talk of PB, which further contributed to it’s hilarity. All in all, we were never attacked by PB, but his presence certainly kept our exhaustion at bay.  

Another great goofy canoeing story revolves around Danny Aronson on the St. Croix River.  Danny was a pretty levelheaded kid, but was prone to hilarious fits of passion. As we were canoeing down the river, he dipped his favorite baseball cap into the water to cool his head off.  Either he didn’t hold on hard enough or it slipped, but either way, the cap was off and into the water, sinking under the surface. Without a moments hesitation, he was off into the flowing river, swimming up stream to collect his precious hat. Danny Gibbons and I were astounded, and being pulled down stream. We lost much distance before we were able to turn the canoe around and go back up to get the waterlogged Danny Aronson. Needless to say, we found him alright, if not soggy.  

One of the quirkiest campers in our cabin of all time was Nick Walasek. I have never met someone with such a passion for flowers, PetSmarts or shopping carts.  And yet, we were privileged to have Nick in our cabin. In typical Nick form, when not telling us about the types of shopping cart each large chain store had, he was designing and crafting objects for his own basement pet store. Nick made these gooey window clinging neon letters that spelled out “PetSmart.” Such devotion did he have, that he nearly had a fit when he woke one morning to find we had rearranged the letters to spell “Wet Rats.”

Nick in action.

Of course, I cannot forget my own goofiness that I brought to the cabin. My drastic fear of spiders once led me to leap out of a canoe during a cookout, because David Owen deliberately steered the canoe into overhanging bushes. Clearly it was not [either of] our best moments by any means, but since he did so, I literally held onto the stern of the canoe for another 30 to 40 minutes as they paddled all the way from Picnic Point to the Picnic Grounds. David Owen was mad because he had to drag me behind the canoe, and I was terrified of the possible spider or two. I also happened to bring the Star Wars card mini-craze to the cabin that year. It is not an exaggeration to say that many hours were spent yelling things like “No, Luke has a power 4 and an attrition rate of 3. He wins against your three stormtroopers! And with his lightsaber, I get to draw an extra card to deal specific damage!” I  have no idea how Brent Parker put up with the insanity of hearing 6 or 7 boys arguing over Star Wars characters and how to play a largely impossible game. 

I think you made an amazing point when you mentioned the single-sex dynamic of camp being crucial to all of the incredible, intense and—often times—uber-weird bonding that took place at camp. I mean, in what other environment could we have convinced Pressy to run around in only his smiley face boxers, performing impromptu dance sessions in the Green Cabins?!

Well, that does it for David. Thanks for your time, Mr. Will, as well as your answers and stories—just fantastic!

My interview with Dan has one more installment. Stay tuned for that.Similar Posts:

• Where there’s a Will there’s a way: An interview with David Will: Part 1
• The Canoe Relay
• An interview with Dan Gibbons: Part 1

I recently started an email dialogue with my brother Dan about camp. We hit on a number of topics. Dan’s 20 months younger than I am and we both went to camp at Shewahmegon for seven years. Dan was always in the cabin just below mine, age-wise.

Some quick explanation of the interview that follows: My bits of the conversation are in bold. The rest is all Dan. I’ve cleaned up the grammar throughout for readability. I’ve also added some explanatory notes in parentheses where Dan and I had just been using nickname’s or short hand. Dan’s parenthetical asides should be obvious in comparison.

Now, enough introduction—here’s Part 1 of our discussion.

On the right, Dan Gibbons on the A-Field at Camp Shewahmegon. The year: 2000. Also featured, Ted Marino.

What’s your earliest memory of wanting to go to camp and what did you think the experience would be like before spending a summer at Shewahmegon?

DAN GIBBONS: I can’t particularly recall a single moment where I wanted to be at camp. As I first thought about, I thought I recalled a moment at some family reunion… However, after thinking about it, I remembered we visited camp while on vacation at Eagle Nob. I remember thinking the place seemed so cool—very happening! So much happening in the eyes of a young kid… I have slight memories of walking around on the dirt path from the waterfront to the a-field.  

One major thing that led me (and I am sure you) to want to go there is I recall knowing my two older cousins went (to Shewahmegon). The way they kind of talked about it, or just their attitude about it, made it seem like it was really awesome. Knowing that our cousins liked it so much and that our uncles went—it seemed kinda like family tradition. So, I knew I wanted to go, because if they liked it, well, I would probably like it.

Of course, I was much more nervous when it came time to (actually) go. But then I decided I was just excited. Almost like a kid before college… just so ready to go and experience a new adventure.

Our cousin Ryan Bergstrom in 1997. One of the reasons we went to camp.

If memory serves, I fell and skinned my knee around Cabin 15 (Our cousin Ryan’s cabin the year we visited… I think.) and had to go to the nurse during that visit.

When you got to camp that first year, what are your best memories? I know you have a great story about peeing in a tent at Two Lakes Campground…

DAN GIBBONS: Man, first memories of camp… I feel like I have a lot of distinct memories from the first year of camp. Probably because it was the first year, I can clearly identify those memories as (being from the) first year. Other memories can kind of blend in to just camp and then you have to think about what year that really was.
 
I can remember being on the bus riding up (to Shewahmegon). It seemed like such a long ride that first time with a combination of uncertainty, not knowing many people and scary older kids on the back of the bus.
 
Weird note: I remember waking up in the early morning It was light out and we were still on the bus. I had this weird boogery shit all over me. It was a super weird consistency. I still, to this day, don’t know if some prank was played on me in my sleep or if I just sneezed all over myself.
 
I remember getting to camp and having the staff there. Everything seemed very new. I remember thinking it was kind of a big moment when they were assigning us counselors—knowing you were going to be given to that person who would look out for your group for the whole summer.
 
The things I remember the most from the first year were the camping trips, goofing in the cabin and the fireworks at the Johnson residence. I still remember those as being one of the coolest shows because it was so dark out on the lake. Oh, I also remember the first counsel fires and trying to learn songs! David (Will) was in my cabin, so he basically came out of the womb signing Johnny Verbeck (Weird visual there!) and I felt left out not knowing them.
 
Within the first years we were at camp, I really remember the evening and weekend games! I think the camp’s population (attendance) was higher in our younger years, so the games were fun. As the years went on, I felt we played the games less and less. Especially in my last year as JC (Junior Counselor).

Dan as a Junior Counselor on a day off in 2001. We're at the mini golf course in Hayward, WI.

Also, thinking back, what do a 20-year-old college kid and 35ish Swedish giant talk about? 

…Oh boy, do I have to pee. But as Thor is a monster of a man and I think he will crush me if I bother him, I am scared to ask. I don’t know why I was so scared to ask, maybe it was that whole mentality of “do you have to go now” and then feeling guilty when you gotta go two exits later on a road trip. Or the whole I was “supposed to be in bed” thing.
 
Anyway, I managed to fall back a sleep. While sleeping, I peed all over myself—my sleeping bag and my mattress pad. I also managed to do the same to David’s gear. When we first woke up, there was your normal morning confusion. That morning also had the confusion of trying to figure out what that smell was and where it came from (Pee and me). There is a quick moment of denial and disbelief and then you just accept it.
 
One of my vivid memories was the last morning when we were getting picked up by (Camp co-owner and co-founder) Bill (Will) to because it was raining really bad. We ate cereal in the rain and then the counselors, along with a couple JCs, had to paddle the canoes back by themselves. I remember Thor getting in the back of a canoe (with nothing else in it) and seeing how monstrous he truly was—the whole front of the canoe was out of the water!
 
I also remember riding back to camp in the old (Old!) maroon and white van from Twin Lakes to camp.  Being in that van was a good summary of camp in general, because camp was basically like going back in time. Whether it was going back in time because of the lack of technology or just the fact that the style and feeling of camp was stuck in the ’60s and ’70s, it was like a little time capsule up in Drummond, Wisconsin!

Dan as Cyclops on the A-Field in 2000.

It’s funny to look back on those summers when we were younger. I can never tell if everything was bigger (The games, the camp population, etc.) or if we were just smaller. Back then camp was such an unknown that, even after the first year, there was still such an exciting air of mystery and discovery about it as you learned more about the Shewahmegon Way (a.k.a. the Law of the Jungle) each year.

Speaking of The Law of The Jungle—which became a term synonymous for the weird but fun rules of camp after hearing that phrase uttered numerous times during BIll Will’s Rudyard Kipling readings—camp was full of inside jokes, running jokes, camp-wide slang and gags. Out of the many camp conversational aspects and turns of phrase, which ones do you reminisce about most?

DAN GIBBONS: I honestly do not remember the “law of the jungle” phrase being mentioned all that much at camp, but it sounds vaguely familiar. I think you’re being a year older and having a cooler cabin helped you to be more “in the know” at camp than I.

Running jokes… I mean I can remember a lot of phrases that I still go through from time to time…

-”NOW BOYS!”
-”Cool beans”: While used all the time, I still am holding onto the dream that Lee Graves came up with this phrase!
-”Hey buddy!”
-”You kill it you fill it.”
-”Spring Chicken” (As in “Bobby is no spring chicken…”)

More than just phrases, things that really define camp language and always make me think of camp are certain words that we used there. When I hear them I almost always have a different definition in my mind from other people since I first heard these words at camp. Now, both their meaning and visual representation mean something very distinct in my mind.

-Latrine
-Waterfront
-Woodshop
-Cookout
-Council fire
-GORP
-Supper
-Bunkhouse

While I rarely hear some of these words, they make me think of camp. They are a representation of camp, these words that are so distinct to camp.

The Gibbons Bros in 2000.

You know what just came to mind? Bucket golf. What a ridiculous activity! I loved it, though!  There were a lot of really silly activities at camp. You needed a lot of activities because you could easily get tired of even the best activities. You know what came up the other day in conversation with someone? I don’t even remember how… the activity Turtle Hunt.

That sounds like the silliest activity. It was so distinct to camp… going out just looking for turtles! The only thing I didn’t enjoy was putting them in the reptile pit. So sad!

Speaking of the reptile pit, wasn’t that a big area of Bill Will’s “erosion?” I felt like there was always a joke about erosion due to campers running down the hills.

How a bout “raking the beach?” That was a duty that was pretty distinct to camp in my mind.  
Ha! Oh man, you are dredging up some great memories!

I remember the erosion thing too, but can’t remember why. Maybe it was like Bill’s croquet etiquette demonstration. I have a photo of him shooting hook shots on the basketball court. I should dig that up!

Ok, ok... It's not a hook shot, nor is it a very good photo, but that's Bill Will shooting hoops. Found it!

Part 2 coming soon! Stay tuned!Similar Posts:

• Crossed Paths: Part 2 of both An Interview with Dan Gibbons and An Interview with David Will
• Cyclops on the A-Field: A Comic-Con mini-hiatus post.
• Where there’s a Will there’s a way: An interview with David Will: Part 1

From left to right: Tim Bergstrom, Ryan Bergstorm, Me (Jim Gibbons), Dan Gibbons and Lexie Gibbons. Photo presumably taken by my mom.

Based on the fact that we’re all in our Sunday whites and my sister is in the photo, this must have been taken on Parent’s Visiting Weekend, which occurred after campers had been at Shewahmegon for four weeks. Why we wore whites for matins must have been explained to me at some point, but I now presume it was because we weren’t going to bring our Sunday best to camp and what we wore the rest of the time was pretty filthy. Camp is a ton of fun, but it’s not a very clean place. Sanitary? Sure! But not many clothes made the return trip down from Northern Wisconsin without sustaining a considerable amount of dirt or food stains and other wear-and-tear damage.

Behind us you can see Shewahmegon’s beautiful waterfront area and Lake Owen.

I went home with my parents at the end of visiting weekend that year instead of staying the full seven weeks. It was a huge mistake. Much as I loved my first bit of camp, I felt like I was missing out on stuff at home. I wanted to get back to swimming in a pool instead of a lake and playing video games or watching TV instead of paying Capture The Flag. I got home and was reminded how ridiculously boring summer can often be. You can only ride your bike around the same few streets for a certain amount of time before you realize that the comparatively limitless amount of activities you could be enjoying at camp is a far superior way to spend your summer.

That was the only summer I went home early in my seven years at Shewahmegon. My other four years as a camper, I stayed for the full seven weeks. The two years I was on staff, I was up there even longer helping set up during pre-camp and tear down during post-camp. By that final year (mine as well as camp’s), Shewahmegon and the people I saw there every summer had become such a special part of my life that the fact those extra weeks up there were primarily devoted to raking leaves and hauling brush for hours on end, well… it wasn’t too bad considering the company and the scenery.Similar Posts:

• Random Recollections—A messy first
• Ambling Preambular
• How a chubby, young asthmatic ended up deciding to go to camp.

It’s been a long time since I’ve updated Nothing More American. I’m sorry. But let’s face it, you can’t force nostalgia or the memories and stories that go along with it. A semi-recent conversation with an old camp buddy about the dilemma of modern technology at summer camp led to some definite post-worthy material, but it stewed in my brain and I never got it out onto the blog.

I needed some push, some shove, some deus ex machina to force me back into this memoir blog.

Over on my other blog EnemyOfPeanuts.com, I’ve been doing a daily doodle cartoon called All Day Pizza Buffet. Displaying these doodles required a scanner, and thus was my deus ex machina delivered unto me! (You know, after I bought it and Amazon delivered it.)

Last Thanksgiving, my brother Dan and I sifted through stacks upon stacks of old camp photos. My goal was to take them back to New York with me, scan them and put them online for the enjoyment of all. I came home, amped up to do some scanning and… my scanner broke. But now, with a brand spankin’ new scanner at my side, I’ve begun the laborious process of scanning in hundreds of old camp photos. I decided to begin with the smaller stack of photos I have that Dan took and progress slowly, but surely, from there. These photos will undoubtedly be the impetus for plenty of fantastic storytelling, so enjoy these initial photos now and continue checking back for more pics and the yarns entertainingly explain them!

From left to right: Me (roughly 12 or 13 years old), my cousin Ryan and my younger brother Dan.

Dan in Cabin 10 (age 10ish). Very flexible for a youngster.

Dan, years later (13 or so), doing the caber toss on Paul Bunyan Day—an annual competition of lumberjack-like skills on Parents Visiting Weekend.

I, apparently doing a great impression of a rock, go against the flow in a Canadian river.

A beautiful Canadian sunset. Possibly the best picture ever taken by a pre-High School Dan Gibbons.

More to come soon!Similar Posts:

• Don’t call it a comeback. Seriously.
• Some song sheets: Johnny Verbeck, Frozen North and more!
• Dear Readers…