Whod've thought

I've sunk to a new personal low. In a fit of desperation to find my girl some additional friends, I have signed my daughter up for the Girl Scouts. (It turns out her first friend at school is quite a bit devious- she "translates" what the teacher is saying for Maggie, but often times it is made up and perhaps just a bit mean. At least that's the story I'm being fed). As a result, she is now officially a Daisy. That's not the bad part.

Because they needed a co-leader for the troop, and I really enjoy the mom who has volunteered to organize us, I volunteered to help out. So, after 42 years of never having been a daisy, brownie or Girl Scout of any appelation, I am now an official Girl Scout Adult Leader. Kind of makes my skin crawl. Next thing you know, I'll be making jello molds in the form of daisies for the troop (no offense Mary Pat). It's just not the image I have of myself.

You may or may not be aware that in my former life I was a "motorcycle riding French teacher from hell" according to a verse that my inlaws sang at our wedding. It's a far cry from leading the sing along "the more we get together, the happier we'll be."

So, how did it come to this? It's not really that I had anything against the Girl Scouts as a child. At school, I would see other kids in their girl scout uniforms which was in itself a treat because they didn't have to wear their school uniform. I thought the girl scouts was like some sleepover I never got invited to. An invitation went out to some, and not to others, I figured. Oh well.

I did go on some excusions with the Boy Scouts, however. My dad was a scout master, and a couple of times I had ridden to camp outs where there was talk of "snype hunting". Still don't know what that means. Somehow there was a disconnect between the Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts at my house.

Some years ago, my dad gave me his old scout master pants. Swear. And the belt too. I actually wore them. It went with my artsy alternative look. It's just funny with 5 other sons in the family, I ended up with the scout master trousers. And a whole set of ties that my dad no longer wanted. I turned them into a curtain for my apartment.

So today was our first get together as a troop. We met for a few minutes before an event involving Daisies, Brownies, and Girl Scout Juniors. We celebrated the founder's birthday. How queer, I thought. We are celebrating someone's birthday who has been long dead. How do I explain this to my little Daisy?

It was actually a fun outing for Troop #8. The older troops had organized activities for the day using mainly recycled items. There were games and crafts.


I look over and at one point two men and one woman have assembled around an accoustic guitar and they are singing songs. If my friend Shannon were in the room, we would have said "how gay". A modern day Peter, Paul and Mary. And then it happened. Suddenly I am hearing the lyrics of Neil Young's "Sugar Mountain" and I am bursing forth with song. Later, as the "birthday" cake is being passed out, I am only too eager to join in "This Land is Your Land.."

I'm a middle aged, queer, Girl Scout Leader. There it is.