Wakeup call

Sometime during the day today, I got into a brief conversation with friend about using war drums as a rude wakeup call. And it got me thinking about one of the rudest, and strangest wake up calls I ever got. No, this is not a story about my alarm cats, though their wake up calls can be pretty bad. This is about Space Camp.

Yes, I went to Space Camp. My parents were nice enough to allow me to go during the summer between my 7th and 8th grade years. This is after they dealt with me being in the hospital for most of 7th grade. With the stress that must have put them under, they were probably excited to get me away, sending me to a different state. Anyway, my parents sent me to Space Camp in Florida with a friend.

After my special diet was sorted out (low salt), it was “smooth” sailing. The beds at the camp were bunk beds. I claimed the bottom bunk, and my friend claimed the top. One morning, one very early morning, the “Camp Councilor”, if that is what they were called, decided to wake us up in a very unique way. At the pre-crack of dawn, me, my friend, and all others in our dorm, were woken up to “Good Morning Vietnam!” played at full blast. I don’t mean the start of the movie; I mean we were woken up to Robin Williams shouting that, from that specific scene in the movie.

I got up so fast that I hit my head on the metal support bar across the bottom of the top of the bunk. My friend almost hit his head on a fire sprinkler (I believe he did anyway). My head was killing me. I may or may bot have bent the bar. Most of that morning has since been forgotten. The only positive thing about this was that the councilor happened to be in front of the speaker when it went off. Now that had to be painful.

Now that was one hell of a wake up call. I have some fond memories of that trip, but that wakeup call always stands out.

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