In the interest of full disclosure, I should acknowledge I didn't care for the Cub Scouts. My den mother was the wife of my Little League baseball coach, and while she was probably a good woman, at the time I thought she was a thief who was squirreling away my 75 cents in dues she collected every week, possibly saving the money to buy her and her calisthenics-loving husband matching sports cars. She claimed the cash was going toward art supplies and refreshments, but c'mon, 30 years ago a package of Kool-Aid cost only a few pennies, and as far as art supplies went, all I remember was some Elmer's glue and a giant bag of Good... More >>>