I should have played the new game.

I used to have this sporadic nickname back in the day...
Adam-bomb.
My friends call me Adam, for short.

When I was 13 my parents sent me to YMCA camp. I didn't want to go. Last time I went to a camp I had to stand by like a dumb-ass, while they pelted the retarded kid with wet toilet paper.  I was well aware that camp can be a haven for sociopaths.

But they said I had to go, and the best I could do to salvage a bad situation, was to choose which session to attend.

There were different themes. Choosing was a delicate balancing act. I wanted to avoid the psychos, but the safest end of the spectrum wasn't for me either. I'm talking about "New Games" week. I  really didn't want to push around the old earth-ball, puff up the tie-dyed parachute, or have to play "head to head", a game where the leader yells out, "head to head!" and you stick your head to the other kids head.  I wanted to avoid any blatant brutality, but complete pussification was too high of a price.

no thank you!

none for me!

Trying to find a middle ground, I settled on "woodsman week". I figured it would be a fun and educational week of learning how to build shelters from pine boughs, using a compass, and foraging for wild greens.

I was disappointed to learn that woodsman week was really a week of playing war games in the woods.

You know that summer in the 80s when every kid had a rambo-knife dangling from his belt?
I'm not saying that columbine was a good thing, but at least no more kids have to go through the awkwardness of making new friends at a summer-camp where every kid is armed with their own dagger.

So there I was, playing war games. It was an adaptation of Stratego, where everyone took the identity of a game piece, and we ran around in the woods "attacking" each other.

Remember the bomb?  It can't attack anyone, but anyone who attacks the bomb get's killed?

The counselor deemed the bomb as being such an important role that it couldn't go to just anyone, so he held interviews, where you got your chance to explain exactly why you were the man for the mission.

I said I'd like to be a bomb, and when it was my turn to have an interview, I conjured my most ernest demeanor.  "Ever since I was a very small boy, I've always wanted to be a bomb."
I got the role on the spot and spent the rest of the day blundering around, blowing people up.

I endured camp.  The last day came. Bored kids passed the time by throwing Jarts at one another.
Finally it was my turn to get on the big yellow bus.

and jart-o was his name-o!