CATCOUK: The Return…

It was a traditional British morning in Heathrow (heavy clouds, wind, drizzle, you know the usual), as the mighty Boeing 777 wheels screeched on the runway during a rough touch down. The monstrous jet engines settle down to a gentle rumble, and the aircraft pulled in to the gate in Terminal 4.

A motorcade of vehicles pulled up outside of the Terminal, awaiting their passenger. Black Range Rover, after black Range Rover, after black Range Rover, after 1986 Ford Escort 1.4 GL Estate in Champagne Gold, after black Range Rover… I walk out of the terminal and get into my car.

With a police escort, we are rushed into central London to Buckingham Palace, where the queen awaited for an important meeting. The motorcade drove into the palace, and pulled up outside the door. I stepped out of my mighty steed that is my Escort, and entered the palace. A was steered towards a small conference room.

After meeting with the Queen, and giving her my report on the colony, I got into an open top saloon car, and we proceeded down The Mall in a big ticker tape parade…

And then I woke up. The damn plane hit the runway with all the force it could muster, in an attempt to shatter my spine. Then began the menagerie that is air travel. First to border/ passport control, which had a queue three miles along (even longer than a friggin’ roller coaster). Next was the event that is… baggage collection.

I don’t know what it is that makes me despise air travel the most. The 3 hour wait for the plane to depart, the 7 hour wait on the plane for it to arrive, or the 26 year wait that it takes to get your bags back! Honestly, could they make it an anymore long and drawn out process. This was made worse still, by the fact that they were using our baggage conveyor for two BA flights. Ours from Newark, and a second from Chicago.

It looked as though they were unloading the Chicago bags first, despite all of the people waiting were on the Newark flight. There were bags going around endlessly on that belt. I swear, that in the 45 minutes I spent waiting, the first 15-20 bags stayed exactly where they were, filling up the belt. And jus when you think you can see your bag coming around, someone else picks it up, as you realise it’s not your bag. I even picked a bag that was exactly like mine, until I checked the label, and then some young lady took.

Eventually, I walked through Customs, and came into the International Arrivals lounge, where there were loads of business men, and chauffeurs with boards. And at the very back, a lone women standing with dishevelled hair, waving like she had just escaped from a local looney bin. Yes, it was my Mum, obviously pleased to see me.

A long time ago, I stated that I really haven’t been on holiday, unless I have been to a Little Chef. This stems from years of holiday when I was younger on the Norfolk Broads. You could bet your life, that at some point during the trip (normally twice) we would go for a Little Chef as lunch or dinner or on the trip there or home. And so, for my very first meal in Britain since leaving for the states, I had a Little Chef Olympic Breakfast. And they do make good sausages…

So we carried on towards home, in my Dad’s car (Ernie was at home, we’d already discussed it), and it was taking forever. Because of the detour to the Little Chef, we had to take the back roads. So when we got near home, I was very excited in anticipation of seeing my beautiful car. I was talking with Andy (a very senior officer in the corps) and he asked if my car would be shiny and clean for my return.

Of course not.

Dad had dressed my car, like one of the characters from the Disney film cars, and my brother had spent his last few days, filling my car with 156 balloons. They were all pleased to see me back, I guess…
Well, now that I’m back, CATCOUK will probably return to normal service. And by that, I mean you should all expect delays, and disappointments. Welcome back to Britain!

If you think I should have stayed in the US, why not leave a comment, starting your message with ‘I can’t wait for you to go back next year’.

If you are pleased to have me back, why not leave a comment, starting your message with ‘I can’t wait for you to come back next year’.

Quote of the Week: ‘So, at the bottom of the ocean, there’s enough pressure to liquidise Hydrogen?’ asked my brother, after he questioned me on how water can exist without oxygen. I told him it only existed as pure Hydrogen at the very deepest part of the oceans.

Goodbyes and Farewells

Apologies for the delay. Technical difficulties. Please read on…

So this was the very last week of camp this week. To start with, we brought down the entirety of the camp’s canvas (all the tents and tarps). And wasn’t that exciting boys and girls? The next day we did something equally as thrilling. What an exciting start to my final week at camp.

On Monday, we had to go out to the lake and collect the boat. We had several people offer to help us with the boat. Anyone would think that camp shut down was boring or something… In the end, we had one of the past sailing directors with us (as I have no idea about how to put away a boat that big), her husband, and health officer Pat, my boss, Jo (my assistant for next year), and myself.

You may remember earlier on this year, I spoke about Pat driving me to hospital. And on that trip, Pat took out a mail box with the camp’s road legal monster truck (called a GMC Suburban over here). Because of that, he was not allowed to drive the truck, so Jordan offered to drive. As it turns out, Jordan is a maniac! But before we talk about that, I break the conversation for some exciting news!

Most guys my age might get excited, and brag about making love to a beautiful woman. What am I going to cheer about? Driving the Suburban of course! Last week Jordan asked me to drive for the food run, but I owned up and said that I couldn’t because of the rules. Well, when we towed the boat off the slipway on the trailer, everyone else was fiddling with the winch that was non-operational.

Well, I saw no point in me getting my feet wet, so I stayed in the truck, and watched. Eventually, I told them not to bother. And they needed someone to pull the boat from the water. And yes, I was that man! You have to understand, that just typing this, I have a huge grin on my face. Can you imagine how elated I was, when I got behind the wheel of that big blue 6.5 litre V8 beast! Furthermore, I enjoy different driving challenges.

Not only did I get to drive the ‘burban, but I was towing 1000 pounds (weight) of boat as well! Even more amazing, is how little it effected the pull of the truck. All 100 metres of driving from the slip, and through the parking lot (more American terms) was bliss. Immense. [Sigh]. For I will never know that level of driving perfection again… (Yes, I know. I really need to get a girlfriend, or just get out more.)

Anyways, on the way home, Jordan took the helm again, and steered us back to camp. As it turns out, he is a mad driver. We were just chatting in the truck, and the rest of the guys were in a car behind. On the way back, Jordan might have slightly exceeded the speed limit. In a ‘work zone’. I didn’t notice (it’s a big truck).

The week progressed onwards, and the shutdown ‘week’ was over by Tuesday, so that on Wednesday, we could go on our end of year staff trip to Hershey Park (yes like the chocolate). It was basically a theme park, but had a small zoo attached to it, as well as a museum of Hershey chocolate. It turns out, my mum has a job there.
Now before I start getting hundreds upon hundreds of E-mails, complaining about how I just slagged off my mum, I should point out that mum calls me Roo (as in Andrew), so I call her Moo. Hence why she was there. Okay? Good.

After that, I was picked up by my sponsor troop from New Jersey, and taken ‘home’ to Dunellen. Once again, the great guys from Troop 29 have taken care of me, and I’ve done some great things. Saturday morning, I walked over the Brooklyn Bridge (if you don’t know which one that is, just picture a bridge in New York, and you’ll know which one), and then went to the top of the Empire State Building. What an amazing experience! And the view from the top was tremendous.

Since the destruction of the World Trade Centre, the Empire State is once again the tallest skyscraper in New York City. From the top of there, it just feels like you are sitting on top of the city. I can see why King Kong liked it up there so much…

Lastly, I need to finish this week’s delayed post with an amazing report. On Sunday 19th August 2007, I gave my first autograph! That’s right, a waitress in Applebee’s (a family dining chain in the states) recognised my voice. In the US, a car insurance company advertises itself with an English speaking Gecko. She heard my voice, and new it was me that does the voice…

Normally I would point out the mistake, but Bill Vincent (the guy that I was with) egged her on, so I thought ‘Well, when in Rome…’. The funniest thing is, the Gekko is voiced by a Londoner. To see what I’m on about, see here (YouTube).

Well, it’s with a sense of poetic justice, that when I started writing this post, I was in Dunellen, New Jersey, but I am finishing it here, sitting at my usual desk in Angmering, Sussex. And that concludes the annals of my American adventure. Tune in next week, to find out what happened when I returned to the UK. Although I would like to add, that by not posting, I got an almost record number of comments in a few days…

If you think I should have just posted this, instead of wasting more time by fishing for comments, why not leave a comment.

If you read this blog every week, but have never left a comment, you are a thief.

Quote of the Week: ‘We are now boarding British Airways flight 184 for London Heathrow, at Gate 68…’

Late post alert

Gees, who does this guy think he is? Another late post? No committment, that's the problem.

Tune in Monday evening/ Tuesday morning.

The End?

Well, I’d like to start with a moan. I can’t remember the last time you lot did this to me, but it was ages ago. No one left any comments on last week’s post. I didn’t think it was that bad, or did none of you go to work on Monday morning? Either way, my feelings are wounded.

On to more important things. That’s right, even though you couldn’t bothered to take 30 seconds of your life to write me a comment (good or bad), I am still going to sit here and type up my story for an hour. This week was the last week of program here at Ockanickon Scout Reservation. And it was one very busy week.

You may remember a few weeks ago that I told you we were averaging more than 6 Scouts a week in our program, despite our maximum being 6. Well this week, someone had overbooked the campsite, by two hundred campers (or there abouts). Moreover, it was only two weeks ago when I was doing tent assignments that we noticed this. ‘Err… Tom. We have 60 more campers than we have beds for….’

But this is Ockanickon, the Scout camp where anything can happen. Somehow (11 new tent platforms later, and several other ‘stand-alone’ tents) we managed to get everyone here. Add to this, the people we invited back after the virus of week one and two on Thursday and Friday, and we had near as makes no difference 1000 people on camp. And that’s a lot.

In sailing this week, 13 people took the sailing merit badge, which is more than double our capacity. It just took some logistical genius, and a program so difficult to follow, you have to have a rocket science degree to understand it. But we did it. Leaving our end of season weekly average at 7.5 Scouts.

Because of the excessive number of people in camp this week, we couldn’t fit everyone into the dining hall. Anyone coming back to ‘make-up’ their camp from weeks one and two had to eat at their campsite (which was completely new). For this, the camp had to assemble a crack team, an elite force if you will.

Operation Dessert Storm! (as apposed to the desert of the sandy variety)

To lead this catering extravaganza, a team was needed. But not just any team. If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you are hungry, maybe you can hire, the MEAL A Team! (We have two meal seatings at camp, Meal A and Meal B).

After that complete pun experience, I’m sure that I don’t need to say anymore. Lead by my tent mate and friend, Jordan ‘Big Daddy’ Kivitz, with me Andy ‘Candy Pants’ Clarke, we were all set to deliver 50 meals in our white Dodge minibus (not quite the A Team van I know).

That made up the funnest part of my week.

Up until now, my American experience has been plagued by a variety of different illnesses and injuries. To date we have: poison ivy, broken and sprained ankle, NORO virus, bad bee sting with allergic reaction, bad back, and now [drum roll please]…

A THROAT INFECTION

I think it’s from the tail end of a bug that I’ve had all week. But it’s all been a bit bizarre. On Thursday night, we were watching a DVD of V for Vendetta (good movie), and this bug caused me to go deaf in one ear. I have no idea what is causing it, but I know that I am bored of it now.

Lastly, I feel that I should pass on my wisdom. On Wednesday night, I was taken out to a movie by an old staff member. The most important factor in this, is that the old (as in previous) staff member was attractive and female. I had almost forgotten what a woman was.

Anyways, we went out to the movies and saw ‘The Simpsons Movie’. Absolutely hilariously funny. As always, we have an official CATCOUK rating. So how many Escorts out of 5 did the movie earn?

5 Escorts out of 5 – If you like the Simpsons, you’ll LOVE this film. SpiderPig does whatever SpiderPig does.

Well, we are now closing down the camp, and I’ll be home in just over a week. Hope all is still well in Britain, and that Monty and Ernie are looking forward to my return, I can’t wait to see them. This may be my last post until I return, so don’t worry if nothing appears next week. See you in two weeks.

Countdown to Britain (as of Monday 0900): 184 hours.

If you never read this blog, and hate it, why not not leave a comment, and don’t start it with ‘don’t bother writing this dribble’.

If you do read this, and want to continue to do so, why not take the time to write something within the next two weeks. I bet you can’t beat the CATCOUK record of 12 comments.

Quote of the Week: ‘Well, you are sub-amazing’ said Todd Warner (the only man whose glare can be felt from 10 miles away) after I said that I wasn’t as amazing as him.

Song of the Month (because I forgot last week): Don’t Bring Me Down. Electric Light Orchestra (ELO).

Use the book as the bee does…

Well this week has been a fairly non-descript week in America. I like to think that that has been fully reflected by this week’s post title. No I don’t understand it either.

Just to show how non descript this week has been, I start this week with Terry Robinson’s epic battle to end the leader’s introductory meeting by 9.40pm (for goodness sake – how did this even make the cut). So by now, you will have realised that I am clutching at straws, but you’re reading on, so I’ll keep writing.

Every Sunday evening, a bunch of senior staff members, and department heads give a series of talks to the leaders of the Scout troops that are in for the week. I go as Asst. Sailing Director, because my boss has stuff to do at the camp fire, which runs concurrently with the meeting. It has appeared that as the season has gone on, our Leader’s meetings have gotten longer and longer. Mainly through contributions from talkative department heads (myself included).

One of our Asst. Camp Directors, Terry, decided this week that we needed to get the meeting over and done with sooner, so that the staff could actually get some sleep before the morning. As I sat down after my Sailing talk, Terry announced to the staff that he would have this meeting wrapped up by 9.40. Usually, we aren’t done until 10. ‘You reckless fool, Terry’ was my reply. It seemed to me like trying to drive a car at 5 miles an hour over the speed limit to get to the takeaway before it closes.

As the department heads had finished, Terry stood up, with a whole third of a meeting to go. Up to this point, the meeting had taken an hour and three minutes, and the time was now 9.33. Terry had seven minutes to complete the meeting. As Terry stood up, everyone could hear the Rocky fanfare in their head. Terry approached the podium, and a full band marched in playing the full orchestral version of the entire Rocky theme. Well that’s how it sounded in my head.

Oh, I know you are all dying to know if Terry achieved this Olympian feat. And yes he did. By 40 whole seconds…

You may remember last week I spoke of an amazing man by the name of Todd Warner (a man so amazing, that he has eight days in his week, he has an extra day between Saturday and Sunday). This week, one of our departments was short staffed, so our amazing colleague stepped into the breach, and taught Citizenship in the Nation. I have never had so many comments of praise and amazement about a class in this department. What he was doing with those kids this week I don’t know, but whatever is was, it was amazing…

Now, I wouldn’t go as far as saying that I am an odd person, but I am an odd person. In this week, the 8th week of my American experience, I finally succumbed to experience homesickness (or domestic nostalgia as the Boy Scouts of America call it). Now this sounds perfectly normal doesn’t it? But it’s me that we’re talking about, and of course I wouldn’t suffer homesickness in the normal way.

Most people would miss their mum, or their family, or maybe even their friends. Now to be fair, I do miss everyone to a point, but not so much that it has caused me to feel homesick. Not even being separated from Monty, my cat, caused my homesickness. No, in actual fact, what did I miss most? Ernie, my car! What kind of weirdo am I?

I really miss driving. Pat (our Health Officer) described my approach to cars and driving, like 17 year old boys approach to the fairer sex. And to be fair, I really do miss my car. So much that it almost hurts. I am weird.

Since about week 4, our ‘big’ sailing boat has not worked quite properly. No one here (including myself) really knew what was causing this. Whilst I am more than capable of running a competent sailing program, but I don’t know an awful lot about repairing large boats. The vast majority of my sailing experience is with small boats.

So I E-mailed the boating manager back home at the NTC. My theory is, that if Ian Jones doesn’t know it about sailing, it’s not worth knowing. He came up with a variety of options, that I have been playing with, to no real effect.

One of the options, was that there was too much weight at the front of the boat. I have looked throughout the foreward cabin, and found to excess weight that wasn’t their week one. And the anchor on the foredeck isn’t that heavy.

This week, I finally decided I was bored of not being able to sail close to the wind, so I stripped the foreward cabin. When I did this, I found that there were two forward compartments that I didn’t know about. The first hold was empty, and the second hatch lead right to the bowels of the hull. And what did I find? Gallons upon gallons of water.

No, I don’t know how it got there. And no, I don’t want to know how it got there. Needless to say, I think I may have found the source of excess weight that was causing us issues. Marvellous. We are emptying out the boat tomorrow, so you can find out how successful this was next week (what a subject to look forward to…).

Lastly, this weekend I got to visit a town called New Hope. How to describe New Hope… Oh yeah. It’s basically Brighton without the beach. And American. You’ll get the idea of the town, when I tell you that the town’s flag is a rainbow…

‘So Andy,’ asked many staff members today, ‘how was New Hope’. To which I replied, ‘Eclectic.’ To write about all of the establishments that I visited would be highly Scout INappropriate. And I’m not talking about alcohol for a change. All I can say is, that Pat has some… er… interesting hobbies.

After our eclectic visit to New Hope, we went to a local vineyard to do some wine tasting. Obviously we were all asked if we were legal. Of course I said that I was. Well in England at least. Who’s worried about US Federal Law… Now, I am not a big wine drinker, so I didn’t dare break the local laws and try any of the wine. Nor did I prove how light weight my alcohol stamina is by feeling a bit dizzy after trying just 10 wines. Lastly, I wouldn’t know that I have a taste for sweet wines…

Well, I hear that the weather is now improving from torrential downpour to light drizzle, so I hope that you are all okay, and that Britain is no longer sinking into the Atlantic. Hello to all my friends, family, and especially Monty, and most defiantly my car, Ernie the Escort.

Countdown to Britain (as of Monday 0900): 352 hours.

If you think that this was a mediocre entry, and that I am a bizarre person, why not leave a comment starting your message with the word ‘weirdo’.

If you think that this was a mediocre entry, and that I am a sub-bizarre persin, why not leave a comment starting you message with the word ‘asparagus’.

Quote of the Week: [Please imagine in a slightly Southern male accent] ‘Give a girl a chance, and they don’t smell too fine either,’ said a Scout in response to my comment that being amongst men all day every day for three months is fine, but women look and smell a lot nicer.