STORIES of TROOP 175

Camping and Events

A WoodBadge Dream

WoodBadge

 

A Fantastic Woodbadge Ticket To Ride…..

 

In a very curious dream I had last year, a stranger – who was once something called a “master scout” – came to me and mentioned something about a program involving a “cellulose protection device”. He suggested that I might want to inquire about this program for my own enrichment. I politely informed him that my current responsibilities required me to spend almost one whole hour per week helping short human beings learn how to do many odd things all based on the teachings of a mustachioed, funny accented man who never seemed to change his clothes. There was no way I would have time for such a thing.

 

But this “master scout”, through intense persuasion and psy-ops techniques must’ve added something to my drink one night and the next thing I knew I received an email about my attendance in this “cellulose protection device” course, seemingly known to its practitioners as “Woodbadge”.

 

What followed next seemed like the haziest part of my dream, because I remember climbing through a rabbit hole to a strange highland place called something like Brown Sea. This strange dream seemed so real that it appeared to take two weekends – each being three days long. How unusual.

 

As I passed the tea party being held in honor of the other “master scouts” in attendance I noticed that they were all engaging in very childlike behavior. Some were tossing toilet seats at one another while others played games straight out of a Dr. Seuss book such as “One Fish two Fish Red Fish, Blue Fish”. Was the cat in the hat far behind? How perplexing this was, but it was all rather fun!

 

My friend the “master scout” was in this dream and he began to speak about things he called critters. Something called a “bob-white” and others. I was a bit hungry but I sure hoped this wasn’t breakfast.

 

At this point I found myself among others like myself and we were Cub Scouts once again. I’m all for the youth but I knew I must have been dreaming since I would never fit into my pants from when I was twenty eight much less those from when I was 8.

 

Our “patrol” leader told us that everything was going to be fine and that everything would be explained in due time – just ignore the man behind the green curtain.

 

 We now we were being asked to sing; and not just any song. Indeed this song was so addictive that it would stick in your mind forever. Generations of Chicagoans raised on the Empire carpet jingle would never have it so bad. But we slogged on.

 

There was much to do this first weekend most of it occurred in this “Gillwell” place that honestly looked very similar to our local scout camp. Something was remiss but in my dream I could not identify it; very bizarre

 

As this “dream weekend” progressed we learned more about the critters and their roles in life. Something about “growing old and feeble, to spare no more”. I could not imagine (I was in a dream) what they meant about not “bob whiting” or “eagling” anymore. I still wonder what one is doing when “Buffalo-ing”!

 

This peculiar weekend continued with fires and more songs and even dance. I really would like to meet this “Tom the toad” character and explain to him how to look both ways when crossing the street.

 

On the food! The food! I thought this dream was really Hantzel and Gretel revisited. They were trying to fatten us up with loads of delicious food; pasta and chicken and beef and tacos and cake and cookies and pies and more cake and more cookies and more pies!!!!!. I dreamt the next stop would be to the fat farm!

 

Many other new odd and mysterious things happened for the remainder of this weekend. I can’t relay them all however it does appear that at some point we all graduated from Cub Scouts to become full-fledged Boy Scouts and we were critters too! I didn’t feel like a bear. I didn’t smell like a bear I hope I didn’t look like a bear – I probably snored like a bear at night though. I doubtless no longer knew what it was like to be as hungry as a bear!

 

As I am woke from this dream state I found myself driving down the highway. On my way home, I had that “Gillwell” song stuck in my head again. My pants were tighter and I had a few mosquito bites and for some reason I started thinking about something called a ticket?  

 

Oh what would my family say when I came home and told him that now I was a bear and that I would have to go back to the same place again in less than a month? I hope I wouldn’t have to hibernate before then. Maybe it all was just a strange dream……

 

weekend 2 coming soon

 

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This entry was posted on May 3, 2013 by in Uncategorized.
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Bryan on Scouting

The official blog of Scouting magazine, a publication of the Boy Scouts of America.

The Scoutmaster Minute

Helping to Deliver the Promise

wrongstreetjournal

All The Wrong News That's Unfit to Print

WordPress.com

WordPress.com is the best place for your personal blog or business site.

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