Lost Journal

Humor Column
by Tim Mollen
July 20, 2006

Backyard Camping Offers Views of “the Wild Life”

Journal Entry: August 8, 1977 (age 8)

This week, Dad brought home a Eureka tent for camping, and my brother Dan and I quickly commandeered it for use in the back yard.  Challenging field trips to the Appalachians may have been what Dad had in mind, but staying up all night eating junk food with our friends was our vision for the tent.

Dad helped us put up the tent tonight, and then went inside to enjoy his slightly less crowded and noisy home.  Dan and I immediately walked over to Edgecomb Road to round up our best friends in the neighborhood, Donny and Mike Millham.  With their parents’ permission, the four of us set off to get the necessary provisions for a night in the wild “out back” of 45 West End Avenue.

At the Great American grocery store, we stocked up on all the essentials:  Ring Dings, Raspberry Zingers, Cheetos, Wink soda, and Freihofer’s chocolate chip cookies.  Back at base camp, we stuffed our faces and talked about what girls we like at school.  Mike told us he kissed a girl at a party this summer.  He’s only a year older than me, so I grilled him for details.  I wanted to be prepared in case some girls in my class attacked me in the cloakroom.

Around midnight, we heard some noise in the yard.  Unzipping the doorway, we saw my 15-year-old brother, Bob, setting up a ladder against the house.  He was moving very slowly, and when he saw us, he half-whispered the words “Shut up!”  Then he walked into the house through the back door.  We watched as his bedroom light turned on, and then off a few minutes later.  Then his window opened.  Bob climbed down, put the ladder back in the garage, and jumped into an awaiting car.

This was awesome.  It was like watching a James Bond movie.  It was no less exciting when, two hours later, we saw my 18-year-old brother, John, setting up the ladder underneath HIS bedroom window.  After the obligatory “Shut up!,” he ascended to his room and did not reappear.  Apparently, he had seen Bob out wherever it is that teenagers hang out in the middle of the night, and the two of them had arranged for John to leave the ladder in place for Bob’s return.

Around 4 a.m., more brotherly stirrings began outside our nylon refuge.  Jim, 21, was trying unsuccessfully to get in the back door.  He was old enough to be allowed out at this hour, but not responsible enough to remember his key.  Assuming he would use the ladder, we were surprised when he walked past it.  Years of experience had taken him to a whole new level of own-home-invasion.  Part gymnast and part cat burglar, Jim crawled up a drainpipe until he could reach the metal bars that were designed to hold up an awning.  We watched with a mixture of fear and admiration as he stood on the narrow bars to reach his own bedroom window.  Once inside, he looked down at us with a smile that said, “I don’t even care if you shut up,” and closed the window.

The tent was silent for a moment.  Then Donny whispered, “Your brothers are so cool.”  I replied, “Yeah, but they’re also stupid.  Why don’t they just camp out in the back yard?”

© 2006 Tim Mollen

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