Over the weekend, I went camping with my family and some friends. I don’t see friends very often, certainly not as often as I’d like. But about twenty of us went out to a not-so-remote campground in Ramona, CA.
Dos Picos County Park is an oasis from the city life I see every day. Don’t get me wrong, I mean, yes, I do live in paradise, but there’s too much going on, it’s too busy, and too loud. Sometimes I need a break from the noise. I also need to reconnect with other human beings. I have my family, sure, but they’re used to my quirks, eccentricities, and so on. It’s not until I mix with others that I can see myself more closely to see who I really am or at least, how I project myself. I mean, if you take a good look at yourself through other people’s eyes, it can be very telling. And I, I don’t often feel like I fit in.
I don’t think I have felt like I fit in for most of my life. Do you ever feel that way? I mean, really. I have felt like an outsider all my life. There’s so often something I say or do which makes people either uncomfortable, or they lead me to think I shouldn’t have said such a thing. This weekend was something like that. We, our group, sat around an early morning campfire talking about the camp, and other camps and the very large red ant colony inhabiting the area at Dos Picos. From there, my brain leap-frogged to a story I had read about fire ants which had devoured a man while he dozed during his lunch break somewhere in South America. It was from a book, Unlucky Stiffs, by Cynthia Ceilan (2010). I said as much, but the looks I