Jim and I can attribute our many, many successes in life to the Boy Scouts of America. (I am assuming Jim's got those "successes" covered.) If the parent organization knew what went on we'd have been drummed out of the organization. Scouts is where we went to learn how to swear, spit and chew tobacco. Our troop was compared unfavorably to an organized gang. I'm a little short on energy right now so this is from Jim.
"Listening to some old Statler Brothers tunes and smelling ex-skunks this afternoon had got me thinking about an old, old road trip from the mid-1950s. Gunnar and I were in Clarks Grove Boy Scout troop back then and it was an unwritten article of faith that meetings on the hot, humid nights of the Minnesota summer were spent either at the Hollandale pool or the beach up at St. Olaf Lake. Our leadership mentors, Dick Rasmussen and my old-man didn’t like sitting around the old barn on a humid night any more than their bored, rebellious charges. So, “swimming lessons” for the boys would be announced and off everyone went to the vehicles." More