Good-bye, Stoneybrook...hello, Camp Mohawk!

Super Special #2: The Baby-sitters' Summer Vacation.

You know, I went to camp for six years, and never once did I refer to it as a "vacation." Sure it was fun, and yeah, it definitely beat school, but vacation was reserved for blissful spring breaks or weekends at the amusement park (okay, fine, my parents' idea of an excellent spring break trip was visiting my dad's relatives in Kentucky, and given my issues with heights, fast motions, and barfing (I am the Margo Pike of my family) the amusement park was never my favorite place. But you get the idea.) Vacation, at the very least, did not involve waking up in a bunk bed and sharing a communal bathroom with 30 strangers. These girls have strange ideas of vacation.

To synopsize: the girls (plus Logan, as we are repeatedly reminded, but let's just face it, Logan could pretty much be considered one of the girls at this point. I mean, when you let Mary Anne Spier whip you, you've really got no claim to masculinity left.) are off to Camp Mohawk for two weeks as Counselors-in-Training, or CITs (and Junior CITs, but that's a rant for another paragraph) taking along several of their nearest and dearest baby-sitting charges, although the specific kids themselves actually play very little role in the stories, a nice change from other plotlines. Most of the girls' stories revolve around their personal growth or their interactions with other CITs, more than with the kids. It's actually quite different from a typical BSC book, and a reminder of what made these books good, back in the day (pre-ghostwriters.)

Background: Stacey is a big city girl who doesn't want to go to camp (at this point she is living in NYC before the "big D".) The CT baby-sitters write her numerous letters (oh, the days before email!) and finally convince her to join them in the wilds of upstate New York, despite the fact that it will require her to leave concrete and tall buildings and Bloomingdale's for TWO WHOLE WEEKS. Um, Stace? You already lived in Connecticut for a year. It's not like they're asking you to join the Peace Corps for two years in Tanzania building latrines. Two weeks without Bloomie's will not kill you. And I say that with love. Stacey, in a delightfully passive-aggressive manner that reminds me of why I love her so, forces all the baby-sitters (including Logan, who is rather disgruntled at the prospect) to keep a notebook, much like the one Kristy makes them write up their jobs in, so that in honor of her "supreme effort" she can have " some sort of a record of [my] adventures in the woods." Again, Stace, a little perspective here, please.

Plotlines:

Stacey: Gets poison ivy but thinks she has Lyme disease. I remember this being much more dramatic than it turned out to be. As a kid I think I thought she was dying and this was a huge deal. As an adult, I realize that there was about 1/2 a page devoted to Stacey thinking she has Lyme disease, and the rest of her narrative time is spent complaining about leaving NYC, obsessing over her diet while being annoyed with her parents for obsessing over her diet, and talking to and about an annoying little camper named Nonie who talks with a lisp. I have no patience for lispers or children with odd names. This is reason number 612 that my sister, the elementary educator and speech disorder specialist, thinks I am going to hell.

Dawn: Ostensibly, Dawn is the reason they are all going to camp, as her obsession with the Parent Trap leads them all to decide to give it a try. I sympathize, as my earliest ideas of camp were also gathered at the hands of Hayley Mills. Dawn went to camp for 3 summers in CA, so she is considered the camping expert of the group. This also comes in handy when Dawn's counselor, Charlene, has to leave camp suddenly at night. Mrs. Means (Old Meanie, the camp director) informs the cabin of Charlene's mother's illness, tells them that Charlene has to leave, and walks out on a cabin full of 11 year old girls, leaving 2 13 year olds in charge. Because why would you try to find a real adult when you can leave an 8th grader in charge of an entire cabin overnight? And heaven forbid you should stay with them yourself, instead of going back to your cabin by the lake and watching old Doris Day movies with your husband. I hope the authorities drop by for a random inspection. But don't worry, lest you think Dawn will be in charge for long. Old Meanie is able to procure a former CIT, a 15-year-old, to take over as counselor and lead Dawn's cabin on an overnight camping trip in the woods. 15-years-old. When I was 15, I could barely find my way home from the mall. So is it any surprise to anyone when Dawn's cabin goes out in the woods and gets lost and ends up spending two nights out in the woods, without extra provisions, and no one calls the authorities? Or the parents? They just stand around wringing their hands and worrying (allegedly. Not that we actually see or hear about any of this worrying.) Allow me to repeat: 6 11-year-olds, 2 13-year-olds, and a 15 year-old are lost alone in the woods for 24 hours, and camp goes on as normal??? What the hell kind of camp is this crazy old broad running? This is definitely another storyline that I remember from reading this book as a kid as being far more dramatic than it actually turned out to be, yet as an adult, I can't imagine it going down like this. A half-hour past the time they were supposed to arrive back, and they would have had the state police dragging the lake, not to mention Amber Alerts on every single missing girl.

Kristy: Another "Kristy gets a makeover" type of storyline, which I feel like happened alot (although, again blanking on any specifics, except for the time in the Blizzard Super Special where Bart got stuck having to stay over at her house and she got up at the crack of dawn to put on makeup and curl her hair, which wound up "looking and feeling like limp macaroni" a line that has always stuck with me and which I use occasionally, as it so aptly defines my own hair.) So Kristy's fellow CITs are more sophisticated than her, and have boyfriends and makeup, etc, etc. What I like about this one, and what makes it different from later, ghost-written books, is that Kristy actually shows some self-doubt. While I don't think she should have ever been ashamed of her tomboy nature or tried to change herself, it was nice to see her express some really age-appropriate angst over it. For once, she actually acted like a teenage girl I might have known in junior high. I'm going to quote right from Kristy, because I actually felt like this was a realistic issue for a teenage girl, especially at camp, where you are thrown in with a whole new group of people and forced to interact closely for extended periods of time. You can't just ignore them, or the feelings they might raise: "I feel kind of out of it with the other CITs in Cabins 8-B and 8-A. There aren't problems, exactly. The CITs haven't been mean to me. Not at all. They couldn't be nicer. It's just that I'm so different from them. Oh, all right, I'll be honest it's that I'm exactly their age, but I seem so much younger. That's how I felt compared to Stacey and Claudia when the Baby-sitters Club first began. And that's how I feel now compared to almost all of the club members. The big difference is that I know my friends so well. I feel comfortable with them. So the difference doesn't matter. But I don't know the CITs." I like this vulnerable Kristy. I don't think she ever again expresses that sort of willingness to consider that maybe she isn't completely secure or self-confident. Too bad we'll never see this Kristy again and she'll go on to become a stereotypical caricature of the tomboy-ish take-charge girl. For what it's worth, Kristy does end up letting the other CITs give her a makeover, then she attends the CIT dance with the boys across the lake, and she ends up enjoying herself, but realizing that the makeup, etc, isn't her. Pretty generic storyline, but well-handled, I though. Bravo, Ann M. Martin (if it is in fact, as I suspect, you, and not one of your lame-o ghostwriters. If it is a ghostwriter, well, bravo to you ghostwriter. I underestimated you and I wish they'd let you write more of the BSC.)

Mary Anne: Well, it wouldn't be a summer camp story without some "Battle of the Sexes" so Mary Anne takes one for the team in her storyline. Somewhat similar to Kristy, Mary Anne feels a need to prove to her co-CITs that she is as grown-up and cool as them (seriously, where did this camp get all these allegedly cool CITs? When I was in Jr. High, allegedly cool kids spent their summers swimming at the country club pool, not volunteering at camp. Or is it, as I suspect, that the BSC is just so backwards that normal, even slightly nerdy Jr. High-schoolers seem pretty cool by comparison? I mean, the reason Mary Anne thinks her co-CIT Randi (such an 80s name!) is cool is because Randi wears parrot earrings. Can someone who was older than 5 in 1989 (when this book was copy-righted) please let me know if these were in fact a harbinger of coolness that I am simply too young to comprehend?) So anyway, how does Mary Anne attempt to display her coolness? By invoking Logan's existence, of course. This again, I actually found pretty realistic. If you've got a boyfriend, flaunt him! I may or may not still use this tactic today. So Mary Anne writes this ridiculous note to Logan, signs it "your love-bunny" (dirty!) and leaves in on her bunk for Randi and the others to find. They call her bluff, insisting that she try to sneak around the lake to the boys' camp to deliver it after lights-out. Despite being a total 'fraidy cat, MA decides she must attempt this for the sake of her reputation, but is caught halfway there after her dumbass camper blows her cover by telling Old Meanie that MA is ill, causing the camp director to check in on her and find the cantaloupe and pillows posing in her bed. I get that Tara is only 7, but moron. It's never to early to teach the finer points of sneaking out. The less said, the better. So MA is caught and sentenced to 3 days without swimming, but her plan works and the other CITs are impressed with her for even trying. So, yeah, that's pretty much it...

Logan: Except that one of the male counselors who helped Old Meanie find MA delivers the "love-bunny" note to Logan in the middle of lunch the next day. The note is promptly read aloud by Logan's fellow CITs, who are possibly even lamer than the BSC, as evidenced by the fact that they are named Henry and Cliff, who wear sunglasses everywhere, even indoors, like they are freaking Stevie Wonder or some, and Rick, who epitomizes cool by insisting on wearing a Hawaiian Shirt over his camp-issued teepee clothes (were Hawaiian shirts the male equivalent of parrot earrings?). They then begin to make fun of Mary Anne, calling her "the Feeb" which aparently means they think she is a feeble-minded person, which what the hell? Seriously, what kind of Jr. High boys are these? "Feeb" is their greatest insult? What does that even mean? This all prompts Logan to start a food fight (duh! Can't have a camp book without at least one food fight!), but then wax poetic about how "touched" he is by the note, because Mary Anne never writes him notes. All of this merely reinforces my theory that Logan is totally gay and Mary Anne is going to be devastated when he comes out in a special "BSC College Edition." Mark my words, you heard it here first folks. And that pretty much wraps up that storyline, except, oh, then at the big CIT dance, MA and Logan act all lovey dovey and the guys decide she's not a "Feeb" after all, even though she really doesn't do much to alter that impression and I actually think it's pretty apt. Whatever. The great love story continues.

Claudia: Ah, yes, Claudia. Thank goodness she's good at art, because she's not so good at reality. Or spelling. Or according to this book, even grammar. Allow me to quote from a letter written to her parents: "Dear Mom and Dad, Hi how are you? Me just fin." I repeat, she wrote ME JUST FIN. C'mon, here people. I get that she's a bad speller, but she's not my 5 year old nephew. I think she knows better than to say or write ME JUST FIN. If not, she has no business watching anyone's children. As Claudia herself would say, Good lord. So anyway, just like in every book, Claudia's storyline is that she falls in luuuuuuuurrve with this gorgeous Japanese CIT named Will, requires the help of her campers to stalk him and find out his name, spends two evenings with him, decides he's the love of her life, stares daggers at Kristy when she cuts in on them at the dance, then cries all night in front of her campers because she'll never see him again and they didn't exchange addresses because they just want to hang on to this one magical night that they had at the CIT dance. Yeah, can I get the Pike Family Barf Bucket over here? Because, puh-leeeeze. Oh, and then her campers get his address for her and she writes him a letter at the end of the book, but then of course we never hear of him again and this whole damn cycle starts over the next time the BSC goes on vaycay. Poor Claud. She really didn't fare well in this book. Better luck next time, my friend. May you never be reduced to ME JUST FIN again.

Mal and Jessi: Sorry, they don't even merit separate headings because a) they're boring b) they're nerds and c) they actually shared a storyline this time around (which big surprise, as they're basically the same person, except, as we are reminded ad nauseum, Jessi is black and Mal is white, not that that matters to the BSC, as they are quick to point out.) Basically, Mal and Jessi are huge obnoxious nerds and the other girls in their cabin hate them, which I can totally understand, but Mal and Jessi think it's because they're racist (which, may be true, but really I think it's just one of the girls who makes some racist comment, and the others just don't say anything, and the racist girl is promptly reprimanded, so at least one of the counselors is doing her job.) Anyway, Mal and Jessi think they're big shots because they are too young to be CITs so they are just regular campers but they are inordinately proud of the fact that because they wrote long, begging letters to Old Meanie, she agreed to make them Junior CITs which is totally just a made up position which basically seems to entail helping one cabin of 8 year old girls create a dance to perform on Parent's Day. Yes, a vital function you have performed there Junior CITs, totally deserving of the Nerdy-to-the-Max matching Junior CIT armbands that Mallory made for them-- no wonder your cabinmates think you're losers. (At least Jessi seems to acknowledge, however briefly, the dumb-ness of this idea, before succumbing to Mal's peer pressure to actually wear the stupid thing). So Mal and Jessi use their skit/dance thing to tell some sort of allegorical story about race relations, blah, blah, blah (casting Charlotte Johannsen and Jessi's sister Becca in the starring roles, which, way to go nepotism. I'm surprised the 8 year olds don't hate you as well) and ultimately their beautiful little skit causes 3 of their cabinmates to apologize for being mean to them, but the one girl who actually made the original racist comment doesn't say anything, so while I think we're supposed to think that hearts were changed here, really, the racist girl still hates Mal and Jessi. But then again, not to side with the allegedly racist girl, but there are so many legitimate potential reasons to hate Mal and Jessi that we really can't just assume it's based on race. Maybe allegedly racist girl just hates them for being the losers they are. If that's wrong, then I don't want to be right.

Final Thoughts: B+. Eh, I am torn here. I would like to give it a better grade because of the Kristy plot and the Mary Anne plot (other than the ridiculousness of Logan's friends). The girls' feelings and worries in those stories were remarkably realistic. However, it must be low because, honestly, no camp on earth runs like this one (I speak as both a former camper and former counselor.) There is no way Camp Mohawk would be allowed to operate, as their policies are absurd (What camp on earth has counselors and campers arrive on the same day? Campers missing? Oh, no big deal!) In the end though, one can't expect perfection, and this was perfectly adequate. I must quote Anastasia Elizabeth McGill "What can you do? This was camp, not school."