Tuesday, August 14, 2012

Say There, Scout!


Say There, Scout!

Noel Laflin
July, 2004




It was hard to find a single item in the camp trading post that did not reflect the country’s bicententennial.  Our camp director, “Smokey” Gene Bergner, had seen to that personally as he knew it would be good for business.  He used to joke that metal detectors had been installed in all of the doorframes of our small store in the mountains.  If one attempted to exit with any loose change in his or her pocket, Gene sensed it and could cajole one final sale. 

He frequently high jacked Ahwahnee’s trading post on Saturday mornings in particular.  This was the day the troops would pack up after their weeklong stay and brace for the long drive home.  Last minute sales were always brisk.  Candy bars and souvenirs were highly prized.  Gene sold many a young camper – along with the seasoned Scoutmaster much more than that, however.  He bartered with folksy style, combating any hesitancy on the part of the potential buyer with a spoonful of mischievous guilt – a dynamite combination.

“Say there, Scout – you in the blue neckerchief!  I noticed you only bought one bicententennial mug.  Now, you know that these will all be collectors’ items by the end of summer.  What you see here is all we have – no more … kaput!  Don’t you think both mom and dad would like to have their morning coffee out of one of these fine decorative keepsakes?  Be a shame to disappoint the folks like that…”

And so, two more mug sales were rung up on the ancient cash register.  As the boy in the blue scarf left with both pieces of porcelain carefully tucked under his arm, Gene sent a young red-headed staffer to go back and bring in another case of mugs.  There were at least seventy-five more unopened boxes in the back storeroom.

“Can’t let ‘em see the entire stock now, can we?” Gene asked with a wink.  “Got to let ‘em think this is it!  No one leaves empty handed – hear?” 

The young staffer dutifully went back several times for more mugs as adult leaders entered the building. Gene nearly vaulted the counter with hand extended as he greeted his fellow Scouters.

“Good morning, gentlemen!  I hate to see this day arrive – an end to a great week together.  However, the drive home is looming and I know you are in need of some last minute gifts.  Now, I can see by the look on your faces that you have been eyeing these unique bicentennial steins.  Beer never tasted so fine when drunk out of one of these – even makes the cheap stuff bearable!  There’s a limited supply on these – as well, I might add, on the solid brass belt buckles with our beautiful bicentennial theme front and center.” 

As he said this, Gene pointed to his own belt buckle, which just happened to be one of those in question.  “I’d even be willing to sell my very own, if we do not have enough to go around.  And speaking of going around, this celebration of ours only happens every two hundred years!  So, what do you say – can I wrap up a half dozen for each of you?” 

You will no doubt realize at this point that “Smokey” Gene Bergner - who would have made a dynamite counselor for the Salesmanship Merit Badge, had there been one at the time - was just warming up.   

“You are going to need something for the wife, neighbors and in-laws too,” he continued, while steering the men closer to the counter and away from the door.  “By the way, did you see these official limited-edition Ahwahnee Scout Reservation Bicentennial Certificates?  Suitable for framing, I always say!” (which he did – and frequently, at that).  “Make a fine addition to your Scoutmaster’s wall at home.  Perhaps you’re thinking about getting one for each boy in the troop, as yet just one more fine memory of his wonderful experience here at Camp Ahwahnee during this historic year – 1976!”

And so, twenty-three official Ahwahnee Scout Reservation Bicentennial Certificates (all suitable for framing, of course), twenty-three neckerchiefs and matching kerchief slides – along with eight beer steins and fourteen belt buckles later – the men left the camp trading post shaking their collective heads and laughing despite their considerably lighter wallets.

“I knew what the old goat was up to,” said one.  “But, just how the hell do you say no to that man?  I mean, Jesus, I only came in for a Coke.  Anyway, I hope my father-in-law likes this damn stein – not so sure about my wife though.  I hope she has something to go with the solid brass bicentennial belt buckle … maybe I should have gone for the pewter ashtray or bicentennial coaster set instead.  Here, hold this stuff for me, will ya?  I’ll be right back.”  He ran back in to see Gene.

The other two nodded silent acknowledgement as they stashed their own newly purchased treasures in their backpacks, all the while wondering where they might acquire a couple of dozen frames for the official bicentennial (suitable for framing, of course) Tribe of Ahwahnee  Certificates.  They too then turned around and headed back in to the small trading post.

“Say there, Scout!” Gene yelled to the young staff member once more – “Bring out another box of buckles will ya!  These things are goin’ fast.  They just seem to sell themselves right off the shelf.  Hope we ordered enough.”  And with that, the old man in the Smokey The Bear hat began to whistle a familiar ditty (something to do about an orphaned cub a howlin’ and a growlin’).

In the back room, the young man rummaged through more boxes and began humming Smokey’s tune unconsciously.

“Now, how the hell did that song get stuck in my head anyway,” he muttered absently before locating another three-dozen cases of bicentennial brass belt buckles.  Beneath those boxes were another eighteen cases of official Tribe of Ahwahnee Bicentennial Certificates – all suitable for framing, of course.  He moved another dozen crates of bicentennial ceramic coasters, pewter ashtrays, neckerchief slides and matching kerchiefs closer to the door.  He had a feeling that they would be called for soon.

“Hope they last the season,” he thought wistfully, before lugging another box to the front of the store where a familiar voice was calling out, “Say there, Scout!  Have you got a gift for your mother yet?”



"Suitable for framing!"