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Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?
-Bohemian Rhapsody

I can't begin to describe thge amount of sadness that my last summer at Eisner Camp creates. But, I can tell you that it's enough to bring tears to my eyes. Having returned on Sunday, the daily routines at home seem awkward and unwelcome. Brushing my teeth, for example, is strange: there are no puddles of water on the sinks, no battlepooping games, no missing towels. It's just plain strange. Yesterday, I felt incredibly weak and dizzy when I didn't follow the meal plan of Eisner (3 meals at 8am, 12:30pm, and 6pm). So, in both literal and figurative senses, Eisner has had a bag impact on me.

People ask me to describe Eisner. That leads me to say, "it's a camp in the Berkshires." Then, people give a nod or some attempt at assuring me that they know what I am talking about. But they don't. Only those who actually attend Eisner can understand what it is. The words 'Maccabiah', 'Turkish Kiss', 'Camplified', 'Fake Break', and 'Noah's Ark' may have auditory value, but no emotional significance whatsoever. In a room of kids from my town, I am sure to be the only one to burst into tears when hearing a recording of Sufjan Steven's Chicago.

For those of you who have no idea what I am talking about (as I realize that most of this relates to myself), I just finished the final year as a camper at my sleepaway camp. Or as I like to call it: summer retreat. As part of being the oldest group of kids on camp, we particpated in a signifcant trip to Montreal, lead a color war, and finally reached the maturity to live in A-frame bunks. (In the real world, A-frame bunks would be considered a demotion--like from President to Apple Picker.) I've been going to this camp since 2001, and it has undoubtedly changed me as a person. I realized this one night when I stood on top of a hill (Olim Hill--OUR hill). It was empty, quiet, and strangely peaceful. I saw each part of camp glowing in its own way, and the past 6 years as a camper filled my body. I realized that I had reached the end.

I still miss that Kazakhstanian's PB&J....