Ocean City Today
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Scouting for a correct name

THE PUBLIC EYE
By Stewart Dobson | Oct 19, 2017

 

 

printed 10/20/2017

 

The Boy Scouts, in the interest of all-inclusiveness, have decided to allow girls to join its ranks, a move that necessitates a new name for the organization.

I’ve thought about this and have already rejected Goy Scouts, which, for people up on their Yiddish or Hebrew, means only gentiles need apply.

Also in the discard pile is B-Girl Scouts, since a “B-girl” (as some older Baltimoreans know) is a woman who works for a bar and gets men to buy them the most expensive drinks. As far as I know, there’s no merit badge for that.

“Sell two more Singapore Slings, Suzie, and we can put another emblem on your sash.”

Plus, the “scout” aspect of the term B-Girl Scout implies there’s a talent appraiser with a pencil-thin mustache out there somewhere, evaluating the prospects for Big Louie or whoever it is that spends half his day in the office going over his numbers rackets, and the other half standing by the bar and cracking his knuckles when someone looks at him funny.

Were you to borrow from both girl and boy, however, you’d produce something like Brig Scouts, which is where some of them could end up if they don’t behave.

I know about the Scouts, having gone to Boy Scout camp not once but twice, and learned quite a bit about the world that I don’t imagine girls of that age would want to know. Never mind women of a certain age who, after 30-some years of marriage, still wouldn’t see the entertainment value of toasting a cube of Ivory soap over an open flame and passing it off to someone as a marshmallow (an actual event).

On the other hand, I can say that I smoked my first cigarette at Boy Scout camp, courtesy of an entrepreneurial assistant Scoutmaster who sold them to us with an appropriate mark-up.

I also learned what a frizzled crew cut looks like after someone threw a lit sparkler in little Ned’s sleeping bag while he, unfortunately, was in it. For the curious, I will tell you it looked like tennis ball fuzz with little white dots on the end.

I suppose it could be said that the inclusion of girls will bring some refinement to the camp environment. If nothing else, when the 13-year-olds sit around the campfire and one of the lads says, “It’s time to put out the fire,” I expect that from now on, they will do it the appropriate way.

 

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