Be Prepared

I was listening to a couple of women talk in the grocery story about all the things they had to do in order to be prepared for the winter.  I caught a glimpse of a photo one was showing of her little one on a trip to Canada. There were the usual concern about flu season, and then the whole assortment of childhood diseases that their kid’s FRIENDS would give THEIR baby.  That led to Halloween Costumes, parties and the ever-looming-Christmas wish list.  I could feel the hackles on the back of my neck rise as they continued to add items to an endless list of woes and dreads.

I could just imagine the joy it would be for Dad coming home from work to listen to the recitation of all these quality of life threats. 

Somehow that got me thinking about being prepared and time I was a Boy Scout;  well that’s not entirely accurate, not by a long shot actually. I made it up the Cub Scout ladder to Wieblos; which is to say, standing in the threshold of becoming a Boy Scout from the minor leagues of Cub Scouts.

     Yes, there is a huge difference to a twelve year old and those enthralled with the Scouting world.  Wieblos, were the young lads in that awkward stage of growing up that would repeat itself over and again for the rest of a boy’s life.  But at the time, it was my first confrontation with institutional deliberate alienation and isolation.  When the Cub Scout dens all met, they would be divided up to their class of accomplishment.  There were huge crowds of Wolves and Bears, (in ascending order, each echelon being louder and more boisterous then the subordinate lower ranks, the further towards Lions you’d get.) But once you made it to the top of the heap, you were tossed into Webelos much like Friar’s are shackled as lackies to full-fledged monks.  All of that to mention that Webelos were much like Fraternity pledges; life of servitude. They had to demonstrate the Scout salute, the Scout sign, and the Scout handshake. You had to explain when you would use them. You had to explain the Scout Oath, Scout Law, Scout motto, and Scout slogan. All kinds of nonsense with memorized rules, pledges, and order of merit of every type of secret enterprise the human mind could fathom.  Oh, and there were dire consequences if the young wanna-be Boy Scout failed to keep them all in PERFECT order.  I was one such Webelos; to the point that I remember I failed to keep proper order of a sing-song-chant that recited all the virtues of what a Boy Scout would embody.  And, well, without pointing fingers, tit came to tat;  insults about stupid followed by counter insults about being a silly fat man in shorts, and well, the truth just sort of spurted out

“I don’t want to be a stinking Boy Scout anyway”

Well, need there be anything more said?  I was unceremoniously ushered out of the door and asked to wait on the steps of the sacred lodge for my dad to come pick me up.  I was no longer welcomed into the august body of believers.  As a matter of course I did similarly when I was pledging a fraternity in college fifteen years later.  Refusing to race up the stairs of the University ten story Library building stealing all the erasers in every classroom along the way.  I had Calculus class I needed to study for.  They too asked me to leave their hallowed presence. I really didn’t think it needed to be verbalized; the loathing was obviously mutual.  Ah, the good times just come rushing in now.  The crystallizing point of this discovery was two-fold.  One was; I learned early on there is just no preparation for every contingency possible under the sun.  If you try too hard, you’re just going to drive yourself (and others around you) crazy.  Unexpected things happen, and life is messy. Two was; the most dire of possible configuration in my wildest worst dreaded possibilities ~ never arrives.  Events unfold, and may do so near exactly to my specified prediction.  But the finish…is never as bad as conjectured.  We live through it, and when those headlights of the family car hit me, and I stood up with a mouth too dry to swallow, I just stammered out the truth when asked why I was outside instead of indoors with the rest of the boys.

“I decided I didn’t want to be one of their stinking Boy Scouts ” I never would have dreamed that my dad would reply with,

   “Well they always struck me as rather smug bunch of know it all’s anyway.” 

The ride back home I glowed with my dad’s affirmation. Yeah, it was better for me to be me then to conform so I’d be accepted by people I didn’t even like.  That last lesson, it’s a life keeper.