Excalibur

Children cause bad, bad things. This summer camp is driving me crazy.

Well, that shouldn't be stated in complete conviction; only some of the campers are mind numbingly apathetic. Some kids don't even know what the word "what" is. Where do I go from there? The answer is nowhere because there is no hope for where when there is no what.

I shouldn't make things seem so bleak. Actually, my excitement to teach erupts in everything I do, all over my shirt front and just a little bit on my lap.

If you could teach kids something about American culture and had seven different days to do it, what would you teach? Would you teach about baseball? Of course you would, don't be silly.

So I taught about baseball, but unlike every self-denying sports journalist out there now, I did not include anything on steroids. Topics did include such nuggets like the inception of the American League, the designated hitter, the first black person to play in the major leagues, the Dead Ball Era and the expansion of baseball into our friends to the North, Canada.

Also, just to spite my fellow teacher Adam, I taught the children that only poor people move to Baltimore, the city in which he claims loyalty. It may be wrong, but isn't personal sanity a bit more important than a small factual miscue?

Tomorrow: The Beach!