Hi Greg,
I don't think anyone in the world would remember me -- hardly-noticeable little introvert that I was. But I'd think someone would remember my sister, Shawn. She never surpassed "newcomer" (while I compliantly and quietly made my way to the pathetic "finish" in record time). I too had smoked only one joint prior to my forced inscription. My sister had done nothing.
I remember the race track, and then another place that seemed like a warehouse -- and the dog "Spats" and PBJ sandwiches and the cups of ice. My sister used to pssst-pssst me, and when I secretly cast a glance in her direction, she'd lob a cube of ice backwards into the endless rows -- making it difficult, in spite of my total indoctrination, to suppress my laughter.
There was a staff member named Gail, I think. The girl whose house I stayed at initially was a very-worldly 13-year-old named "Tangy."
Oh! What long-lost memories.