When I was eight years old, I managed to convince my thrifty father that I needed to be a Cub Scout.
The lure was irresistible. After all, I had spent two entire years at Nichols School in Miami, Oklahoma watching older kids parade around in their Cub Scout uniforms. The beautiful blue outfits, complete with those sharp blue-and-gold neckerchiefs and that cool metal device that the ends threaded through that fit up against the uniform collar . . . what seven-year-old kid wouldn't be green with envy at the thought of actually donning such an outfit?
I'm not sure what kind of age requirements the Cub scouts have today, but back in the 60's, you had to be eight to join. That meant I had to wait until third grade before I was eligible. But when I crossed that magical eight-year point shortly before the 1967 school year began, I began relentlessly hounding my parents to let me become a Cub Scout.
To my delight, they agreed that it would be a good idea.
The first thing my parents and I learned was that official Cub Scout gear wasn't cheap. After all, not just any blue uniform would do, it had to be official. The same was true of that sharp-looking neckerchief. In fact, there were all sorts of gewgaws that needed to be purchased from an official Cub Scout merchandise retailer.
In Miami, it was a department store called Belk's. That first night that we went in looking to get me outfitted with the garb a Cub scout wore was accompanied by much wailing on the part of my father. He couldn't believe the cost of the officially sanctioned gear.
But he did spring for it. Had I walked in to my den with some sort of makeshift uniform, I probably would not have been turned away, but it would have been humiliating nonetheless. No, dad would not hear of that, so he plopped down probably twenty or so 1967 dollars to get me decked out in style. He even sprang for a toothbrush that folded up into its own case.
I remember to this day the pride I felt when I first wore that Cub Scout uniform to school. The den meetings were on Thursdays, as I recall, and Nichols would have a slew of blue-bedecked third-graders running around campus each week on that day. As soon as school was over, it was off to the den. In my case, it was a house that faced Goodrich Boulevard, perhaps a half-mile from school.
Each week the meeting provide us with a different slate of activities. Sometimes it would involve creating crafts. One project in particular that I recall was taking a chunk of 4x4 pine that had been cut six inches long, painting it, gluing a small round base to it, then attaching a mason jar lid to one side. My picture was glued to the jar lid, and "Chip off the old block" was engraved in my childish scrawl underneath it with the aid of a woodburner.
Dad kept that big ugly paperweight for years.
The Cub Scout manual was full of cool stuff, too, especially knot-tying techniques. I loved just taking a big piece of rope and practicing the various knots that were illustrated.
And I remember marching in parades, too.
Then there was the Pinewood Derby. I wrote about that a while back.
And the year climaxed with the Blue and Gold Banquet, an extraordinary social affair at the Nichols lunchroom that was attended by all of the scouts in Miami and their parents. Interestingly, both sets of parents was the norm at such functions, a rarity today.
The next year we moved, and the rural area I lived in didn't have any organized Cub Scout program. Thus ended my career.
It's been many years since I was a Cub Scout, but I still feel a little tingle of excitement in my gut when I see a proud eight-year-old schoolkid decked out in his blue and gold finery anticipating a pack meeting later on that day.
Comments (4)
My cub scout troop in Joplin sucked.We had a den mother that had us do what we considered girl stuff.Each week we did the same old projects.Color and cut out stuff that we cared nothing about and every week we had to guess how many jelly beans were in a jar.My best friend and I were asked to leave the meeting early several times.We were always grateful when that occured so we could go trade baseball cards or play catch.Our mothers seemed to understand our feelings and seldom were upset.
Posted by Steve | February 21, 2008 9:16 PM
Posted on February 21, 2008 21:16
Yes, I was a cub and later a boy scout too... It was great the pride I had when I first put on the uniform. My dad was a former Marine and he helped with the "gigline" and other things too. Our "Military Chothing" people were actually JC Penny's and I loved it, I can still remember girls in our school blushing when I walked by in my stuff, Dad even showed me how to "spitshine" shoes and I taught the other fellers too. Our Scoutmaster was just like "Sgt. Bilko" so we never wanted for anything, we always had money for things, truly a great guy. My wife had absoulute love in her eyes when she saw me, and the same when I joined the Service years later. So I guess I'm used to uniforms, because I was in Catholic school too... Many a happy day.
Posted by Craig | February 24, 2008 12:35 AM
Posted on February 24, 2008 00:35
A boy can join the cub scouts in 1st grade now. Both my boys spent 5 years in a pack. In 5th grade they become Boy Scouts. I was a den leader for my youngest. The gear still isn't cheap, but the skills and confidence the boys learn is priceless.
Posted by Amy Chevalier | March 2, 2008 6:09 PM
Posted on March 2, 2008 18:09
I still remember how proud I was when I first donned my cubscout uniform. These days it seems that you see cubscouts in bluejeans and cubscout t-shirt and hat. Seems the kids are being robbed. No one could feel the same kind of pride that I did in modern day getup like that.
Posted by russell | March 14, 2008 12:42 PM
Posted on March 14, 2008 12:42