To Our Weird Parents:

It’s a stat holiday today, and its raining out my window, so please forgive the fact that I am biding my time with the following musings.

I will use W.E.I.R.D. as an acronym for Western, Educated, Industrial, Rich, Democratic.

“Rich”, being in relative terms to the rest of the world; and “Western”, which could easily be substituted by “White”, if you can get past the crudity.

The blessing of being a WEIRD parent is that your kids want for nothing. No expense spared. Life is carefully planned. Support can be procured almost at whim.

But there are shortcomings to being WEIRD.

Kids are apt to be entitled. They are accustomed to other people worrying about them, so they don’t have to worry themselves.

For other teens, weirdness can spawn anxiety. The indifferent world holds no quarter for the meek and the avoiders. Kids get really afraid to try new things.

And so, in this moment, we have this stunning collection of weird kids. Our mission is to erode entitlement. To get kids working hard. To have them leap into unknown turf with the benefit of a community behind them.

And it is playing out beautifully. This moment is an exquisite blend of precipitation, unbridled teenage hormones and moments of comic book-like glory.

16 of 16 English kids are in like Flynn. They just got back from their one night of camping. Tony said they had to get the hell out of the building and get some river in their blood. So they did.

Now hold on to your armchairs and your pacemakers, but, scouts honour, Tony says he has never seen a group work so hard. They had their tents packed at 6:45 am. No whining. Breaking camp for 22 people is like cleaning a kitchen times a million. They arrived back at the ranch 90 minutes early. So Tony let them screw around for 90 minutes as a Pavlovian reward. Guitars are being strummed, there’s card game shouting, balls are bouncing and the picnic tables are vibrating with giggles.

After lunch, and all evening, it’ll be back to the books. Make em suffer I say. Like thats ever going to happen.

The outdoor crew paddled by my window this morning on day one of their 4-day river journey down the Madawaska. Sorry weirdos, but they are just getting pummelled right now by rain, and I am laughing out loud as I write. Sort of saying na-na-na-na-boo-boo to you parents whose hearts just skipped a beat.

Here’s why.

Those little outdoor darlings are like a school of sardines that sway in unison. They move lock-step. 100% buy in. Mojos rising. Seriously. The rain aint no match for their spirit.

A few have 1970’s hair (I am a sucker for my formative decade). The rest have perfectly coiffed manes typical of this century. But however they keep their strands of protein, all have let their hair down. And what is revealed is truly a collection of weirdos that are not too shy to show it. The result is magnificent.

I must say that this crop of parents is very well behaved – I have received no harassment as yet. Good on ya’ll for letting go.

Happy Canada Day everyone!

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