A jiggity-jillion years ago, when Calvin Coolidge was a hot, young upstart and everyone wanted a Discman, I went to this amazing sleepaway camp. And being a kid who regularly quoted Tom Lehrer lyrics and read The Mists of Avalon about eighteen kajiggity-jillion times in a row, it was pretty incredible to find a place where I finally fit in with people my own age.
This camp was a little different than your basic color-wars outfit. Basically, each activity was called a "shop," and each shop was open throughout the day. You could work on projects at Batik Shop, or go to the Costume Shop to design and build outfits for upcoming plays, or blow molten fire in the Glassblowing Shop, or do stuff at my favorite place on earth, the Clown shop. Yes, I said "Clown," and weirdly enough, at camp? It was the cool place to be.
To explain, every summer, the camp brought in a different professional clown to teach everyone how to juggle and do pratfalls and anything else you can imagine that would be super fun. And that's where I met Fred.
Fred had been a clown with the Big Apple Circus, so he was well versed in spit takes and all that jazz, but he also fostered comedy that wasn't just based on record scratches and falling down. He introduced me (and the 20-odd other people who comprised the tight-knit Clown base) to situational comedy, to characters, to building a show together, and ultimately, to improv, a skill I've been lucky enough to do all around New York City (and a good part of the country) for the past 10 years or so.
Most importantly, though, Fred taught me to take chances. At 11, I was pretty used to being the odd man out, and my self-esteem showed it. Fred was the first person to challenge me to be myself, and help me figure out why I should believe in myself even if/when I wasn't perfect. It was the first time I was ever popular, and the first time a teacher ever helped me be the center of attention in a good way.
Wherever he is, I tip my Appreciation Hat to Fred, a hilarious, weird, deeply wonderful guy. I hope he knows how much he changed my life for the better. Because of him, I learned that it's okay to fail, great to succeed, and even better to just be who I am.
Has anyone else been to a camp like this?
Related post: Ode to the Swivel Chair
Topics: Life
Tags: camp, clowns, improv, appreciation days, big apple circus
Post a comment!