Summer is upon us, and with it comes back yard barbeques, day trips to the lake and visits to the emergency room with 3rd degree sun burns. It’s time to get outside and enjoy the sunshine.
Yet something dark lurks in the shadows this season. A monstrous lie we’ve all been telling ourselves since childhood. A secret we all share but hide so deeply that very few among us can even admit to ourselves that it’s true. But this season I am going to break the silence and right here, in this illustrious publication, I will speak this hidden truth we all share. My only hope is that my stoic bravery will inspire other to do the same. So here it is. I hate camping.
I can’t begin to tell you how good it feels to admit. It’s like I just got out of a warm bath and someone handed me an ice cream cone. I think this what OutKast referred to as feeling so fresh and so Clean.
Now it’s your turn, all of you out there in your pubs, your coffee shops, your massage parlours. Say it with me now. “I…Hate…Camping.” Doesn’t it feel great? No more need to put yourself through the planning, the packing and the potential threat contracting of Lyme disease from a wood tick.
I understand that some of you have been keeping this lie for a long time. You’re not ready to admit it and that’s okay. You shrug off the freezing cold nights and call them “brisk.” You gleefully chant “I hate white rabbits” while you almost pass out from smoke inhalation. You return home battered and bruised,covered in bites and scratches, with your hair smelling of smoke and your breath of week old hotdog mustard and you say “Don’t you just love roughing it.” I know it’s a hard thing to admit, you’ve been accepting this lie for a long time. But search your heart, you know it’s true.
Words by Ryan Bangma
originally published in the July 2015 issue of analogy