I have never been camping.   I remember when I met the woman who would eventually become my wife (and subsequently my ex–wife),   and she asked me about camping.

I spent a good three minutes on goofing on camping basically suggesting if I want to sleep terribly,   I would go back to house I lived in college called “Dazed Inn – The House Everyone is Toking About.”  We even had a sign on the front and everything. Two bathrooms and four bedrooms and eight guys.     That’s like camping.     Actually, worse because at least outdoors there’s a chance of rain to wash away the stink.

The next summer I lived in a house called “Unplanned Parenthood” (we were right next door to Planned Parenthood).

After my diatribe about how stupid the idea of camping was to me,   I found out that my future wife was, of course, a camping enthusiast.     She even had her own tent and everything.

I laughed because I assumed she was joking.  I mean, how many hot chicks have a tent?  Apparently at least one.

Then I backpedaled and said things like, “Well, maybe I would like it!   I mean nobody has ever invited me!     How does the pillow thing work?     Do you bring your own?”

And what’s the deal with sterno?  It’s blue, right?

She dropped the subject and we never went camping.

But in my defense, I truly have never been invited to go camping.   I have close friends who go every year.  I’m not notified.  It’s not like I’m better than camping.  I’m not super-prissy.  I mean, I bike 20 miles a day.  That’s sort of outdoorsy, right?

The closest I ever got to camping was the year I slept on the floor.

I’m guessing I was around twelve or so, and I watched something one night on television that said sleeping on the floor was great for the back.

Why this appealed to me I’m not clear, as to this day I’ve never had as much as a single pain in my back.

So,   for a goof,   I pulled out a sleeping bag (and now that I think about it, I must have slept in a tent at least once to have a sleeping bag, right?   Sort of negates my earlier assertion about never had camped.   Oh well.), and slept on the floor.  The next morning, I felt fine.  So, I just kept doing it for a year.

It was great because I never had to make my bed.

As an adult, since my entire place is hardwood, I do not sleep on the floor.  I do, however, do a couple of fun things once in awhile.

• Sleep in the Second Bedroom –  This is great fun, and something akin to eating at Arby’s.  Only good a few times a year.  I have a brand-new mattress and box spring, and the sleeping is awesome.  Makes me feel like I’m on vacation.  IN my own condo.  In my city.  With no amenities.  But still fun.  In fact, maybe for fun the next time I have a visitor I’m going to give them the master bedroom and I’ll take the second bedroom.  Blow their mind.
• Sleep Backwards –  I know I sound like a total moron, but I’m amazed more people don’t do this.  It’s so much fun.  You kind of have to redo the sheets a bit, but you’ll have a totally difference experience when you wake up in the morning.  Odds are you’ll be facing the other direction and for a moment, your brain will totally freak out before realizing you are, in fact, in your own bedroom.