Going Camping with Uncle…

Every kid needs a Funcle Uncle. that guy who comes into your life to make it fun and wonderous. I had my Uncle Arnie Levin. He seemed to have one mission in the world and that was to make my life a great one filled with excitement and wonder.

My Mom, Marla was extremely close with her brother, Uncle Arnie, and when my Dad passed because of cancer, Uncle Arnie stood up to make sure I had a positive male role model in my life. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my Grandfathers on both sides, but Uncle Arnie, was younger and cooler.

There were times my Mom got really upset with Uncle Arnie, like when he bought me a bike and took me to a park and let me ride down steep hills. As a five-year-old, she didn’t think that was a particularly smart move.

When I reached the magical age of ten, Uncle (that’s what I started calling him, I dropped the Arnie part) somehow convinced my Mom that he was skilled enough to take me camping.

Uncle went fully in. He bought me my own sleeping bag and a big tent. He said we would be going on the lake, so he bought fishing rods and reels and lures. A beautiful red canoe and my very own life jacket. He convinced my Mom to let me go to the grocery store with him and we bought some nice kosher hotdogs and hamburgers, and mostly we bought a ton of junk food. I couldn’t believe how much junk food that my Uncle…