Picture it: a New England summer camp in 1952. (Give yourself a high-five if you thought "...Sicily" instead!)
Toss in a bunch of white boys who are 99% completely uninterested in bonking the one chick who is not on the staff but somehow allowed in the camp. Next, add a Token black guy who pops up with the exact history book needed to identify weird crap that is going on with the camp's new 'guide', a kooky Indian touting the bad mix of loinclothery and sadism. Frankly, the fact he was like 50 years old and perfectly ok
pantsless was sadistic enough for moi. It was like Lord of the Flies meets beef jerky. Seriously, I had to picture Dave Carradine in a bikini to *improve* the visual. (Sorry I don't have a link for that. I looked.)
So this kid Jerry is bringing his stepbrother Pete to camp and working on a new record for smoking in the most facepalm situations.
How'd he get stuck doing that?
With his mom living in MakeItADouble-ville, he needs to do some sibling bonding. This will prove to his father that - despite being groped by foxy stepmom and subsequently whaled-upon by raging parent - he belongs in their home in Sobriety Land. I mean Connecticut. In 1952. For all I know, it's a brothel now.
At this camp, there was a pretty good ratio of violence to sexy times. Breaking noses, tickling the guitar player's 'ivories'... all in the brochure. Revealing gay tendencies was treated like needing mosquito repellent: it IS going to happen and you MUST get with the spray like now.
"How could you be among this group of young boys and not be in that situation?"
"Well, kiss that guy already...and his name's not Off. Oh, and break his nose later."
The author got my vote for worst joke when he named the bathroom Keep Your Bowels Open. He may also have gotten some backing for a franchise with a golden name like that.
I gave this one a ... oh, hell, I don't know what to give it, other than a Surgeon General warning.
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