A Household Word: Fantasy Camp

By Carol Band

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My son Lewis has been begging … begging to go to Space Camp.

“You get to experience weightlessness,” he says as he clicks through the slick-looking Space Camp Web site. “I’ve always wanted to be weightless.”

This from a kid who weighs 85 pounds.

Space camp is in Alabama … in July. And, it’s indoors, so instead of sailing or building fires, Lewis would learn how to drink Tang from a tube. I’m not saying that Space Camp is a bad idea …  it’s probably loads of fun and it might even be educational. But it’s not cheap.

Fantasies never are. But if parents are willing to pay, there are all kinds of camps that cater to making the wildest dreams of kids ages 8 to 18 come true.

There are rock ’n’ roll camps, where kids can learn to prance in front of a microphone like Miley Cyrus or shred on bass guitar with some guy who used to play in a band with Eddie Vedder’s cousin. Instead of a gimp lanyard, campers come home with a demo tape. There are camps where your 8-year-old aspiring model can strut her stuff on the catwalk and perfect her pout. There are computer camps and wizarding camps and spy camps and sports camps and junior senator camps. There’s even a CSI camp, where kids learn how to identify decomposing bodies. Hmmm … that’s some fantasy.

But I have fantasies of my own. Here are some camps where I’d like to send my kids:

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