Hello muddah, hello faddah

It's summer camp time, which means it's also time for kids and parents to brush up on the fine art of letter writing.

When I went to summer camp, back around the time of the Gadsden Purchase, the counselors insisted we write daily letters home. The thinking behind this, I presume, was that if we wrote enough letters, something positive would eventually slip in. ("Dear Mom and Dad: Things are looking up. The health department guy came out today and said that last night's mystery meat was not the cause of the salmonella outbreak. Also, the river fire is just about out and we should be able to resume swimming class by the weekend.")

In order to appear that they are writing something positive, summer campers have developed a code. If you, the parent, can't interpret the code, you will think that your child is having the time of his life when, in reality, the kid is suffering the tortures of the damned. Here is a sample letter home, along with its decoded translation:

"Dear Mom and Dad (Translation: "Dear Occupants"):

"So much has happened I hardly know where to begin! (This letter will be padded so it appears longer.) The first thing they did was assign us to cabins. (These things make Abe Lincoln's birthplace look like the Trump Plaza.) I'm staying in cabin number two, down by the lake. (Swamp.) We drew straws and I got an upper bunk! (I actually drew a lower bunk, but Joey Costello threatened to beat me up if I didn't move.)

"After we unpacked our stuff and made our beds (My cabin mates got a big kick out of my Smurfs sheets. Thanks a lot, Mom.), we were introduced to our counselor (tormentor). His name is Randy and he seems like a real (wad of cheese) nice guy. Randy said he's here to (annoy) help us and make sure that our stay at Camp Muckitymuck is (a living hell) as pleasant and enjoyable as it can possibly be. I think I'm going to like (kill) him.

"There are a lot of rules at Camp Muckitymuck. For example, no (damn) cussing. Randy says the first time he hears us using a (damn) swear word, we'll get a warning. The second time he hears us using a (damn) swear word, he'll tell our parents. That Randy! I can tell he's going to be (an S.O.B.) strict!

"After he went over the rules with us, Randy marched (whipped) us up the hill to the cafeteria for lunch. I'm telling you, Mom, they make the best meat (?) loaf here! It's tender and juicy and reminded me a lot of (Alpo) Uncle Eddie's (penny loafers) Ground Beef Surprise. But don't be sad, Mom! You're still the best cook in my book! (Not!)

"After lunch, we wandered (slogged) over to the pavilion for arts and crafts. It's been raining for the past (40) few days, so some of the roads and pathways are a little (impassible) muddy.Eddie Johnson stepped in a hole and (disappeared) lost his shoe!

"Right now, we're making potholders (pipe bombs). They're really not too hard to make, once you get the hang of it. I'm thinking I might send a couple to Grandma and Grandpa for Christmas.

"In the afternoon, we went swimming down at the lake (retention pond). The water's got something in it (H2SO4) that makes your skin (dissolve) feel all tingly. It's really (painful) exhilarating!

"After dinner, we built a fire with some (hazardous waste) sticks and logs we found in the woods. The fire burned with a rainbow of colors and some of the campers were so (overcome) mesmerized that they fell asleep (passed out).

"Got to go. Randy promised to (snap our butts with a wet towel) read us a bedtime story. Write soon.

"Love, Timmy"

David Grimes is a columnist for The Sarasota (Fla.) Herald- Tribune. His column is distributed by The N.Y. Times News Service.

Copyright 1996
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