Pine Trees, Campfires and Nyquil

Every year I go on a retreat with my student leaders. It always feels a little weird, because it usually comes in hot on the heels of camp, and it forces me to readjust mentally. I sometime wonder of the retreat is worth it. It can cost as much as $1500 between transportation, accommodations and food, and for all the meetings we have, it sometimes feels like I just take a bunch of kids to a cabin in the mountains to goof around for a couple of days. Furthermore, I've seen a lot of years where the enthusiasm of retreat faded once the school year set in. By April, we're left with a lot of unchecked items on our list. I have to apologize, I realize how I can come off as a pessimist. I guess I've just been doing this long enough to start questioning the effectiveness of my routines.

Anyway, this weekend was the 2008 edition of the *MY SCHOOL* Music Department leadership retreat.

Okay... well... let me tell you what went well: It really came down to something that I neither planned nor desired..... I got sick. What made it particularly miserable was the fact that the heavy symptoms kicked in during our annual three-hour hike. Luckily, I made it through. But when we got back to the cabin, I headed straight for my room and went under for a couple of hours. I knew we had a bunch of stuff on the schedule to do... lunch... team building activities... meetings. There was nothing for it. It was either shut down or crash. Severely.

Here's where the positive kicks in... everything on the schedule still happened. The kids got lunch going, did their own activities, woke me up for the meeting and then put me back to bed while they worked on dinner. Later we had another meeting, after which I retired permanently for the evening.(1)

The next morning I slept in a little while the kids did most of the clean-up. Dishes got washed, trash got emptied.... it all happened like a well-oiled machine. By the time we checked out of the cabin, I was thinking "If this is how these guys are going to work... this is going to be a very good year."

Added Bonus: for the first time ever, I got a decent photo of a full moon:
















1. ...only to be awoken to the sound of high pitched screaming, which is how I knew that Michael Phelps had secured his 8th gold medal.

Reflections on Paradise

I just got back from a three-week stretch at the music camp that I work at every summer. I started going there in 1982 and have been returning in one capacity or another for twenty-six years: Camper in the 80s, Counselor in the 90s, Conductor in the new millennium.

Without going into too much detail.... the camp is kind of my Shangri-La... a place where I can make music for all the right reasons. Anyone who knows me knows that I have a special connection there.

This years episode was about the same: Great kids, good music. At the end of the camp session we had a little "family gathering" where we were sharing with the group what we had "gotten" from the last three weeks. Lots of people hugging and crying. When the sharing finally got around to the camp director (Don), he said that he was reflecting on the success of his efforts over the last twenty-some years, and attributed a lot of it to the input of myself and my dear friend Randy.

Randy and I grew up together at the camp. We weren't particularly close early on. But as the years went by and we both continued to live and work at the camp every summer, Randy and I became best friends. We joke about how a couple of guys like us... getting into our 40s... are still going to camp.

Randy was always Don's right-hand man. He's been the head-counselor (practically an assistant director) for two decades now, and kind of runs the place when Don isn't around. He has a lot to do with the shaping of the social end of things. Randy and Don have always been "in tune" with each other, which is why Don places so much trust in him.

I've never been that deep in Don's "inner circle," mostly due to the fact that I have a perpetually childlike perception of the universe that prevents me from being good at administrative tasks. But even though I initially didn't understand Don's vision of what he wanted the camp to be, I instinctively offered my loyalty and support nonetheless, and have been an inseparable part of the camp experience for as many years.

As a staff member, I initially adopted the role of the "wacky counselor".... more interested in making kids laugh than anything else. This was sometimes problematic, as I had a tendency to crave attention at times when Randy an Don were trying to conduct business (during camp assemblies and what not.) Don once joked that I was a valuable member of the staff "if not always for your less-than-mature eccentricities."

I had a lot of fun being the clown over the years, but I also envied Randy for the more intimate relationships he developed with the campers: At sessions end, they would say "Maestro... I'll never forget how crazy you were. Randy... thanks for all those words of encouragement. You helped me to be a better person." I realized eventually that I had more to offer than just entertainment. In my later counseling years, I tried to be more like Randy, but I never really had his insight into people.

It doesn't matter though... when I became a conductor, I gained the ability to do everything I wanted through music. And while I still have a knack for making the kids laugh, I also get "Maestro... thanks for showing me how music can be meaningful...." But by far, the greatest compliment came when Don looked at me in the circle and said. "I've watched you grow from a super-dynamic comedian into a super-dynamic musician."

Yeah... that's gonna stay with me a while.