Sierra Surf Music Camp: Anticipation Overload

The Day Job calls.  Three weeks of 12-hour days are coming up.  The push is on.  And writer's block set in.  Still, the urge to get a post done before going totally underground pushes for something.

We wrote our check to go to camp.  Paid in full.  No fuss.  No muss.  No hand wringing.  No dithering.  We are going to be campers at the inaugural Sierra Surf Music Camp.  And we are stoked!

Becky and I selected the “couple’s plan” and took advantage of the early bird discount. 

As you get older, you may pay closer attention to those “early bird specials.”  You know those opportunities to join other old people at 5:30 for reduced price meals.  Rubber chicken with white gravy is what immediately comes to mind.

Of course, those “early bird specials” often are only available at places like Denny’s or IHOP.  Denny’s has not been part of my epicurean consideration since the racial discrimination suits of the early 1990s.  Before that, I just did not like the food.  My only experience with IHOP in the past 10 years was sticking to table saturated with several different varieties of syrups and watching people eat thick waffles lathered with whipped cream.

The early bird discount for the Sierra Surf Music Camp was totally different.  It was a chance to sign up early for a dream weekend -- a three-day weekend at that.  You have read about here before.  Spending quality time with some of the leading lights -- present and past -- of surf music.  You can imagine the campfire stories already.

We’re going to have so much fun.  But . . . .  But . . . ?  But . . . !

As I think about the agenda, I realize that the camp may offer too much to do.  Too much to do!  Too many choices!  Learn surf art.  Surf Band 101.  The History of Surf Music.  Songwriting.  Van etiquette.  Music lessons.  Nightly performances.  Performing for Paul Johnson.  The list goes on and on. 

Pondering the choices only incites anticipation.  Two months to wait.  Good thing that I am about to be inundated by Day Job demands.  They will take my mind off of rock ‘n roll fantasies and whether to attend classes on surf art or stage presence.

But before succumbing to the beck and call of real life and its responsibilities, one last bit of fun flits through my mind.  Thinking back to the Capitol Bowl, I wonder:  What would Paul Johnson think if he had heard our arrangement of “Squad Car”? 

Hey, we may get to find out over Memorial Day Weekend at the Sierra Surf Music Camp.

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