Rock Camp Showcase

"Do you have a name badge? Okay, the merch table is over there. I don't know if you have to check in with anyone else". As she finishes with me, up walk two of the women from the Vox Rocks group (the vocalists at Ladies Rock Camp, which I attended in May), along with the volunteer coordinator, another Lady Rocker. Today we're here to support the campers at Rain City Rock Camp for Girls, rather than rocking out on our own.

"Just let me finish orienting these two on the raffle and then I'll be with you. Oh, here's Beth. She's a merch..."

"Goddess," Beth interjects.

"Yes, she's done this before. And Patty over there is in charge. You can go to either of them with any questions".

I step behind a half door to a claustrophobic area filled with boxes of t-shirts, water bottles, sweatshirts, hats, hoodies and fanny packs. At this point, I'm relieved that I opted not to bring my folding bike along. There's no way it would have fit with us, as I can barely bend over to reach the boxes as it is.

Beth shows me how to use the POS app (that's "point of sale", not the other POS abbreviation, as it actually works fairly well for us.

Nervous girls approach asking for camper earplugs. Another member of the Vox Rocks posse introduces her teenage son to us and offers his services as a runner. The room begins to fill with parents, aunts, uncles, brothers and sisters, as well as a few doting grandparents.

I did around boxes looking for specific sizes, as Beth rings up hats, decals, stickers and more. People ask questions like, "is this 100% cotton?", "is it preshrunk?", "will the stock be replenished for next week's show?" - all questions we did not go over in orientation.

After a sound check, the youngest bands with girls 8-9 start to play.

"Would you like to hear a joke?"
"Better make it a quick one," Beth mutters.
"Knock knock"
"Who's there?" choruses the crowd.
"Boo"
"Boo who?"
"Don't cry, it's only a joke".

Sweaty crowd members begin to fan themselves with the canary-colored programs. My vision starts to go dark, but I am determined not to faint, so I bend my knees and soldier on.

"This is so cool! I wish there had been something likes this for me," confides one aunt. I try to entice her to attend Ladies Rock Camp and have her own transformative experience.

Over twenty bands play. Faces reflect terror, joy and pride. We sell out of hats and totes. By the end, we have only XL & XXL sweatshirts left.

The show ends with two intern bands. I'm blown away by their talent and am now hungry for my own return to LRC. Maybe in September...