Camping

Bibi and Mani were friends of my parents.  They looked like they just stepped off the kibbutz in Israel- they were true hippies and I have no idea how this friendship originated.  We used to go over to their house for dinner and I was supposed to play with their daughter who didn't speak and eat their weird food.  I hated it.

One evening Bibi and Mani were extolling the wonders of camping.  I don't know how it happened but somehow my parents felt it would be a good idea to borrow Bibi and Mani's tent and go camping, too.  We were living in Milwaukee at the time so at some point that summer we piled into the Oldsmobile with the black vinyl seats and no air conditioner and headed north to the Wisconsin Dells.

When we arrived at the campsite my father immediately set out to put up Bibi and Mani's tent.  It was paper bag brown and it smelled.  It smelled so bad we had to open all the flaps and air the thing out before we could sleep in it that night.  It took my father hours to put the tent up.  I remember a lot of swearing.  Finally, he got the thing up and my mother began to make dinner on a hibatchi stove.  I was bored out of my mind.  I had with me some Nancy Drew mystery novels my aunt had sent me but there was way too much noise and distraction going on to read.  Instead of the sounds of nature I had my Dad screaming, "Mother-fucker god damn shit fuck" as he set up camp.  I'm sure the people around us were scared to death and wondering what the hell was going on at our site.   I was a bit nervous myself.

At some point, the tent's stench was reduced and it was time for bed.  The tent was not very big to begin with.  We slept on top of army cots in sleeping bags my father had rented that smelled, too.  Inside the tent was a "porto-potty" which was a plastic white toliet seat with a plastic bag attached to the bottom for midnight pees.  I thought it was weird we had the toliet inside the tent and I'm sure my mother insisted on it so she wouldn't have to be inconvenienced in any way.  There was also a space heater inside the tent because it would cool off at night and it would be unacceptable to be chilly.  My parents wanted the low cost of camping to include all the comforts of the Holiday Inn or another AAA approved motel.   So in our smelly brown tent with a toliet and a space heater we all drifted off to sleep.

At some point we were all awakened by another smell.  Something was burning.  It was the tent.  It was on fire.  Somehow my father managed to put the fire out but it was terrifying and I already wasn't having a  good time.  Honestly, I don't remember if we went home or if we stayed.  I didn't realize at the time how close we all came to something really tragic happening.  The truth is we had no business camping.  My father was much too concerned about my mother's comfort and convenience to consider basic safety.  Bibi and Mani were compensated for the destruction of their tent and we continued to camp for the next few years in our own tent and rented pop-up trailer. Thankfully, there was never another fire but there still always a lot of yelling and swearing and nobody ever really had a good time.  After a few years the tent was put up in the attic and we didn't camp anymore.  By that time we never really went on vacation  anyways.  I think the tent got thrown away during one of my parents many moves.  I don't think the friendship with Bibi and Mani lasted much longer either.  They were probably afraid of my parents and fearful of further destruction and ruin to their property or selves.  To this day I hate camping.  My husband loves it.  We've been together 17 years and we still haven't gone.  I consider this a success.