Do you know anyone who went to Massad that ever wanted to leave?  Do you know anyone who does not want to go back?

I don’t.  I’d still be there if they hadn’t decided that I got a bit old and that it was time for me to move on.  My friends from about a half a century ago feel the same way.

So, with the 60th reunion approaching let’s just do the obvious- Why not send us senior citizens back to Massad and just keep us there?

As Jews we are supposed to be self sufficient.  Right?   Here we have a nice, flat hunk of land with airy cabins and lots of healthy fresh air.  Certainly, Massad must meet Canadian disability access requirements.  From what I remember, the showers were large enough for at least twenty or thirty, never mind a wheel chair or walker or two.  Wheel chair ramps would be a cinch.

Forget the staff.  We can take care of ourselves.  

Jackie Boroditsky will direct us.  If he needs some diversion he can try to teach those of us, he was supposed to be teaching to swim in the first place how to flutter around in the water.  For these purposes, we can call it physical therapy. 

I will only speak for myself.  I loved swimming lesson time.  I have vague recollections of something going on under that water.  For some reason I still don’t know how to swim.

Maybe Prak’s older brother Richard can continue practicing gynecology--at Massad.

Our director in those days was Gad Horowitz.  He is my dear friend Aviva Malamuth’s uncle.  Everyone remembers Aviva.  She taught rikkud wearing Manitoba’s first itsy bitzy teeny weenie yellow polka dot bikini.  Okay.  So maybe it was really just a two piece bathing suit.  Who that went to Massad when Aviva was there will deny that it was a bikini?

Aviva can still get the dancing going.  She can easily transition us into nap time.

Surely, after decades of teaching political science at McGill, Gad should be able to get some of the politics under control.

I was supposed to be the arts and crafts director.  No problem.  A little finger painting never hurt as long as the youngsters in the group are there to clean up while the rest of us are there to focus on what’s really important.

What’s really important is why we went to Massad in the first place.  There was something about the guys there.  They were different from the BB Camp clan.

Was it the foreign accent?  Hebrew is a foreign language after all.  Isn’t it?  Let’s explore those hotties again.

Was it Herschel Fox’s sex appeal?  To us he was like Johnny Depp.  Herschel hasn’t changed even a wee bit.  Of course, now we have his foxy wife Judy to contend with.  Even better….two cantors for the price of one.

Don’t forget the guard duty we rotated.  I don’t remember any terrorist attacks.  My lips will forever remain sealed about what I do recall.  I’ll try that again also.

So, that’s my suggestion.  Everyone loves visiting Massad.  We would never be short of visitors.

I discussed this idea with a few former Massadniks I happened to stumble upon.  Nobody thought my idea unreasonable.  Yes, of course we would need the heating system upgraded. 

As a child of the 60s, whose best years were spent at Camp Massad, near Winnipeg Beach, Manitoba, with all those hunky guys that my Massad girl friends and I still dream about….forget any senior citizen's home.  Send us back to Massad!