My First Lesson in Socialism

I am an Eagle Scout, and my mom didn't get it for me. Yet I hated scouting. For the most part it was a waste of time and money.

Once I attended some sort of regional camp (500+ Scouts) on a frozen reserve. At about 10:00 p.m large cracks suddenly began to appear in the ice directly beneath us. One kid panicked and sprinted toward the shore disappearing into the night. It took two hours find him and fair amount of questioning his courage and manhood to convince him to return to the camp site. I thought the treatment he received most unfair. Of course my latest hit single "We are all going to Die, in Icy Tombs" didn't help.

The Scout Master once accused me of being on drugs. He called my parents and told the bishop. I used to burn incense a lot on these camps, because, lets face it, scouts smell. I don't mean that as an insult it is just a fact of life. Plus I was reading BH Robert's Compressive History of the Church, had fantastic grades, and had taken to helping the widows in my neighborhood with their yard work, free of charge. Clearly all the signs of a heroine addict. Luckly I had the widows on my side.

Still it would be lie to say I didn't learn anything from scouting. One of my fist lessons in the weakness in Socialism came as a young Scout. We were given the task of selling Scout-O-Rama Tickets. Unlike Girl Scouts, who sell fantastical addicting cookies, Scouts sell tickets to the lamest show on earth. BSA use prises to incentive Scouts to sell these tickets. I hit the streets after school, on Saturdays, ever spare moment was spent trying to con people in buying the tickets. I used my boyish charm and as much manipulation as I could muster. I contacted every relative, neighbor and random stranger I could. I event tried to sell them during church, which is frowned upon.

I sold enough tickets to get a truly awesome bow and arrow, that I was going to use to ride the world of evil. You can imagine my feelings when I received a football. I couldn't throw or even catch a football, how was I supposed to fit evil with a damn football. I latter found out that the Scout Leader had felt sorry for the fat, lazy, stupid kids that had stay homed watching Teenage Mutan Ninja Turtle, and thus unable to sell as many tickets. The sales records were altered so that it appeared every kid sold the same amount and so we all got footballs.

That was the last ticket I sold, and have yet to ride the world of evil.