Tag: marbles

Evolving or Devolving? Which is it?

Cowboys and Indians, tag, roller skating, jump rope, baseball, dodge ball, Davy Crockett coonskin caps, paper dolls, Mouseketeers, marbles, Ginny dolls and monkey bars. Walking to school or taking a bus no matter the weather. Playing outside until the street lights came on, chasing the Good Humor truck down the street, sitting close to the fan on a hot summer night, etc. etc. etc.

This is part of what it meant to be a child growing up in post-World War II America. Most Baby Boomers remember it very well.

Perhaps that’s why our long-term memory remains so good; to more vividly recall simpler times.

For most Americans life was a quiet time sparsely laced with moments of terror and foreboding. Families were building businesses, buying homes and becoming invested in their communities.

However, the foreboding and terror was pretty much reserved for the older generation. They were the ones who had to deal with Red China, The Cold War and bomb shelters.

A kid’s version of terror was being sent to the principal’s office, watching Michael Landon in I was a Teenage Werewolf or realizing blowing cigarette smoke out the bathroom window won’t always cut it.

Of course, there were some disquieting moments for us Boomers. Especially when we were marched down into the asbestos-covered pipe bowels of our school basement to escape an atom bomb.

Looking backward, it all seems so foolish, doesn’t it? As if an atom bomb could be stopped by moving into the basement. Ironic that the real danger was the asbestos.

I also remember polio as a scary moment until Dr. Jonas Salk created the vaccine that ended its scourge.

We all remember lining up in school, receiving a pink-splotched sugar cube placed in a paper cupcake holder and passed out by the school nurse.

Beat the hell out of shots in the arm.

I suppose polio must have had a much more frightening impact on our generation than first believed since we all remember receiving the sugar cube so clearly.

There are those who will quickly point out that these memories are no more than rose-colored reflections on times we romanticize. I don’t think so.

Any Boomer will instantly defend their childhood in a far quieter and more charming world.

As an old movie fan, I’ve watched my share of old movies. Boomer life in small town America was so naïve, fun and easy to navigate.

College pep rallies instead of blood-thirsty protests. Picnics in the park or at a friend’s, or filling the blow-up rubber pool on summer’s steamy days.

The excitement of your home’s first air conditioning unit.

There are many who say yes, but what about diseases with no cures, the fact people died younger and TV sets were black and white and twelve inches. Don’t forget having to use the antennas with aluminum foil to get the darn picture right. Or did you forget party lines, the fact women were second class citizens and father was the one who always knew best?

Of course, progress is a good thing, well in most areas perhaps.

I still contend that quality of life isn’t dependent on how many likes you have on TikTok, how many friends on Facebook or the latest Netflix offering.

The food was real, not chemicals, neighborhoods were tree lined and neighbors knew and cared about one another. At least where I grew up.

Yes, yes I know airplanes are faster, food is delivered, the Internet has brought the world into our homes, streaming services make going to the movies irrelevant and a robot named Alexa is sitting in our house spying on our every move. And that to most people is a good thing.

I must counter with the fact SIRI hasn’t understood a word I’ve said in three years. It’s like talking to someone who is deaf and refuses to wear a hearing aid.

“Hello Siri, Siri I said Maple not Whipple.” So yes, the stress levels of modern life can be over the top.

I simply don’t remember that so much as a kid.

Did our parents feel the pressures we were protected from?

I know every generation tries to protect the young. Yet, it seems that the negatives weren’t as scary.

Okay, I’ll give you the atom bomb, but terrorism, crime and AI trumps that by miles.

Were people nicer? Absolutely. Could you get a malted or a phosphate at the drugstore when buying the new Archie Annual? Sure.

Did the baseball stadium smell like freshly mown grass at the games? You bet. And it was the best smell.

Most would choose progress, but of course at what price?

What are we willing to pay for faster, bigger, new and improved?

And a question I ask myself often these days…are we indeed moving forward as a species or is that an illusion?

Do we tell ourselves man is evolving when in our hearts we know far too many are becoming more vicious than the dinosaurs we replaced.

Do I see the past in America through rose-colored glasses? I’m sure I do. Would I want to give up all the new and modern inventions we now possess? I’m afraid I’d have to think about that one.

Our children believe their generation grew up in a peaceful and charming America as well. I imagine our grandchildren will believe the same.

We are nothing if not adaptable.

But honestly, looking back it just seemed so darned easy. Can anyone look around at this world and use the term easy to describe the present? I’d have to say not in a million years. So, I’ll just enjoy my memories and hope life takes a beat, moves a bit backward to recalibrate and slows down the pace. Actually, that might be the best progress we could all hope for.

I know I am.   

Stop Throwing Shade on Shade

So I’m watching golf today. I know I know, you’re asking why? Okay, I love watching these guys play because I stink.

So anyway, enough justifying my golf watching, the course looked amazing. The sun was in a great position, the greens were emerald and most of all there was a great deal of shade under the trees. The kind of shade that looks like it’s actually painted in.

The kind of summer day that makes you want to plop into a hammock and just watch the clouds roll by. Or run your bare feet through the cool leafy grass. Funny, does anyone do that anymore? Lie in the shade I mean. Just checking out the shape of the clouds? Or run your feet through grass. I wonder if that isn’t one of those things we lose when we get older. Or perhaps it’s the whole Oh-my-God-stay-out-the-sun panic.

Whatever the reason that’s actually my point. Despite the fact I seem to be taking forever to get there, it’s about shade.

When did shade become a bad thing?

When I was a kid shade was what you sought out and embraced on a hot day. After roller skating around the block a few times, you honed in on a shady spot like a boobed-up blonde to a rich old coot.

We all had our favorite trees we’d scoped out and felt the most covered under. That special tree that not only had the most leaves, but allowed for maximum breezage.

Does it seem I’m being too scientific here? It was never about science then, but comfort. Those hot days were pretty brutal for a generation that spent so much time outdoors, before computers, social media and daytime TV.

And here is the real 411, before air conditioning. It came eventually with some room air conditioners strategically placed around the house. But until then, on a hot day shade was your best friend. It cooled down your burning hot cheeks to a livable temperature and allowed you to head out into the blazing sunlight renewed.

Of course, at a certain point it was time to fill that pool and go for it, but shade kept you cooled down sufficiently to jump rope, play some dodgeball or read a comic book.

It was the place you gathered to trade baseball cards, play marbles, or picnic. PBJ and lemonade always seemed tastier outside on a blanket under a shady tree.

If indeed shade was so important to us as kids, why in the world has it taken on such a negative connotation?

Who decided that throwing shade on someone is a bad thing? An insult so to speak? No one asked me for my vote. I know which side I would have come down on.

I imagine this is just another example of how different the younger generation is from Baby Boomers.

We saw shade as something beautiful, comforting healing and abundant. An oasis in a stifling desert pre-air conditioning when we lived outdoors.

We loved the sun before it became our enemy. There was no sun screen, no thought of how dangerous it was to have a deep tan, just a natural desire to seek out the sun and shade.

Most neighborhoods didn’t have clumps of trees like a golf course, so we gravitated toward the lushest with that perfect opening between the leaves to allow for breezy relief.

We spent quality time in the shade. It was always positive to cool down, play cootie catchers or cat’s cradle with your best friend. A chance to recharge your batteries before the street lights went on and the day outdoors came to an end.

Shade allowed us to take advantage of every bit of fresh air and sunshine. We enjoyed a healthy lifestyle foreign to most kids today.

Now kids troll their social media and accuse people of throwing shade like it’s a crime against humanity. The real crime is not enjoying a sunny day and a shady tree.

Talk about corrupting the positive into a negative that shouldn’t exist.

If kids today weren’t raised with central air, sun screens and computers they could appreciate what an ally they have in a shady spot under a leafy friend.

Shade is the shadow of a tree that gives comfort equally and equitably to all.

It shares itself with everyone, anytime in a welcoming and comforting manner.

There is nothing negative about shade or what it provides.

All I can say as I turn back to Scottie Scheffler trying to reclaim his throne, is please young people; stop throwing shade on shade!

It’s the Time of Year to Share Our Childhood Memories

This time of year is prone to dredge up memories of long ago tucked away in the recesses of one’s mind. I’m not quite certain it’s the holidays or perhaps that whole getting older and long-term memory that creates a sudden rush of childhood recollections.

I simply know that they are coming in droves.

Of course there is that desire to recapture earlier times spent with family and friends, laced with bittersweet emotions of loss and regret.

For myself living so far from my childhood home I find a lack of snow matters. No blanket of white feels as if an old friend that visited every season has deserted me in lieu of palm trees and blue skies.

Now believe me I’m not saying slipping and sliding along the streets in the cold and slush would be preferable, but there was something about falling snowflakes that just felt right.

I also seem focused on school around the holidays.

We strained at the bit to reach that last day before winter break when a teacher would dress up as Santa and pass out candy canes and Vernor’s Ginger Ale.

Our elementary school was named after James Vernor of the ginger ale company so they gifted us with their soda and candy canes each year.

Santa would be played by a teacher covered in a beard and of course we would whisper about who it might be as we waited in line for our treats.

Childhood seemed quite naïve and innocent so small moments were intensified and more special. We even believed hiding in the school basement under asbestos pipes would prevent an atom bomb from harming us. Silly, right?

Or that a wooden desk would hide us from a nuclear blast.  Either they didn’t know the truth or weren’t about to share it with all of us. Seems so foolish now.

Baby Boomers lived a life full of new discoveries. Television began small and black and white forcing us at times to strain to see the picture among snowy waves.

We used rabbit ear antennas on the television set covered with aluminum foil to enhance the signal as we moved them back and forth while our brother directed until the picture clarity was optimum.

Snowy or clear we rushed home to watch the Mickey Mouse Club and later American Bandstand. Our eyes transfixed on this new way to be entertained and transfixed.

I begged my mother to let me stay up and watch Milton Berle on Tuesday nights and still vividly remember the Texaco servicemen that started the show.

We had strange puppets like Rootie Kazootie and Howdy Doody with visible strings. We never minded or enjoyed them any less; in fact, being able to discern the strings was part of the fun. Every kid wanted to be part of the peanut gallery. Then, when a TV dinner on a metal tray table was added to the mix, it all seemed too perfect.

We even had party lines on the phone for a short time as the new technology was growing faster than the company could provide. Limiting use the phone to only certain times seems comical now when we can’t put it down for a minute.

Could you imagine kids today being told they had to share their phone with someone else? I believe it would lead to some violent revolution.

But to us it was a new magical instrument we were happy to have for any amount of time. A new way to broaden our horizons and communicate with friends.

There was no Google, only sets of Encyclopedias, no computers, only visits to the library branch nearest our homes.

We could spend a lazy summer afternoon reading and sharing comic books like Archie, Katy Keene or Superman with friends munching on snacks. Candy bars were two cents or a nickel and we drank cherry cokes or chocolate phosphates at soda counters served up by kids in white jackets and hats.

We played hopscotch, four square, jumped rope, played jacks and roller skated in metal skates with our key on a ribbon around our neck. Marbles clinked along the sidewalk and we traded movie star pictures cut out of fan magazines.

We ordered the scholastic books from school and couldn’t wait to read them when they arrived.

It seemed the smallest things were a big deal back then. Including rushing over to the first neighbor’s house on the block to own a color television.

Obviously, I’m waxing nostalgic about a time that is now gone forever. Our grandchildren are living in a new world filled with things we only read about in science fiction novels.

Technology that causes my eyes to glaze over as my kids or grandkids attempt to explain it to me.

Our children do battle to keep them innocent and away from the screens and kudos to them for doing so. Yet the world changes each day and new innovation is now moving at a faster pace than ever before.

I’m certain someday our grandchildren will look back on their childhoods with a sense of joy and wonder as we do, at least I hope so.

Was our innocence a good or bad trait? Were we blindsided a bit finding the future was often as scary as Orwell had predicted, or Flash Gordon was actually Neil Armstrong? Were we literally over the moon when man first landed there in front of our eyes?

Am I implying Baby Boomers don’t embrace this new world and its wonders? Heck no! We are all into it big time and enjoying the ride. It’s just nice to wax nostalgic at times and remember our innocence.

Each generation will experience new and uncharted roads to travel. I hope wonder and peace will continue to be a part of their journey. I know it was ours. As much as things change one thing never does…the smell of a turkey roasting in the oven on Thanksgiving. We can all be thankful for that.

Please share your memories with me, I’d love to hear them.