A Tribute to Reba

So, this particular week of my life, I have been participating in a new form of ridiculousness: summer camp. In my position with the organization I work for, I am the liaison to all things camp in the area we cover. This equates to alot of unnecessary paperwork and my traipsing through day camps with a mental checklist of possible wrong-doings. One particular camp, in a rural area (of Kentucky, I know, right.), is spear-headed by a couple of bumbling volunteers with ill-intentions towards The Man (or The Woman, in this case). A co-worker, whom one might refer to as Strong Sierra for fun, and I planned a surprise visit yesterday afternoon to this particular camp. In theory, we would arrive unexpectedly and "catch" them in any number of violations that they would correct before a scheduled visit from us. After the hour-long drive through no-where, USA, we arrive to find a shockingly, comfortingly normal camp. I mean, it's not top dollar, but it's working. The girls are having a blast and experiencing lots of new, "campy" things. We check out the waterfront, since it has alot of potential for possible safety hazards, only to find almost everything going as planned (Minus a nest of baby mice. Ick.). We then hike about 13 miles uphill back to the lodge (Not really, but it felt like it.) and share some snackies with the kiddos. I pick up on a couple of new faces in the crowd -- mostly because they were grown men amongst gaggles of young girls. I verify their background information and sit back to observe. I notice a little mild flirting between an adult female unit leader and one of these men, whom we'll call William because that was his name and I have no reason to protect his identity. Both, I'm quite sure are married. Nonetheless, the girls just thought it was funny and innocent. Their problem then, not mine. As I'm observing this, Bumbling Director Numero Uno saunters up to us to inform us that there is a must-see skit coming up in a few minutes. Great. We are obligated to sweat through thirty more minutes of sweltering humidity to watch girls hug and talk about friendship... Or so I thought.

Three of the oldest girls at camp are in charge of this jewel of a skit. They gather all of the younger girls around and have them sit in an appropriate area for the audience. Let me warn you, that is the last use of the word "appropriate" in this post. The three girls whip out a boombox and send William to stage left (in the woods, behind some trees). I clearly hear the girls tell him his instructions are to walk into the center of the circle and stand there when the music begins. Williams begs why, with no response. He obliges. Also, I'd like to break in with a special announcement now: Of course, he gets doused with buckets of water at the end of the skit. Yes, it's hilarious, but that's not the good part. Read on. One member of this clever older girl trio presses play on the boombox. A country song begins playing, and here comes William. The great fireball, Reba McEntire, begins belting out a song from the early 90's about a no-good, cheating man whom she's kicking to the curb. Greeeaaat.

The trio waste no time in forming a circle around William and dancing first angrily and then seductively. He stands there laughing. The young girls in the audience cheer as the trio push him around, take off his hat, and verbally spar for his affections. One extra-special highlight of the show was when the trio each fell to the ground in come-hither poses. This continued for the entire 3 and 1/2 minutes of Reba, and, of course, ended with William soaking wet. The crowd roared.

Haha. Funny, right? Cute? NO. Without climbing onto my soapbox for this, suffice it to say that this is NOT the positive, empowering message we were hoping to send out to girls. On the bright side, I'm sure Reba is dancin' in her boots, waiting on the royalties from that performance.