Summer Sounds

This May week is annually a 'downer.' I'll explain. Our backyard is adjacent to the playground of Our Lady of Lourdes Grade School, which includes youngsters in grades one through eight. Throughout the spring there is an endless parade of classes engaging in activities during recesses, physical education classes and lunch periods. While working in our yard or simply relaxing, my wife and I become accustom to the chatter of youthful voices. Suddenly summer vacation begins and there is an empty lot and silence. I don't like it. I don't like how it marks time either. What's the song, 'Time in a Bottle?'

Yesterday afternoon, I was in the quietness of my backyard recalling my own youthful sounds, sights and tastes. Perhaps these recollections will stir a memory or two for you. Evening sounds of kids calling out names in a game of hide & seek, nearby young girls asking "Mother may I?" I see sidewalk hop-scotch and four square markings. On this night there is a distinct sound of a can being kicked and a ball bat dropping to the pavement. A teen boy yells out news headlines as he hawks the evening newspapers. The news boy's voice fades and gives way to a more mature plea and boast from a push cart vendor who tells of his "Red Hots! Get Your Red Hots!" Oh my, those homemade tamales!

As a deeper darkness closes in the louder is the cicadas sound. The nine o'clock factory whistle  blows, a father whistles out the back door beckoning his young to come inside for the night.
A distance radio blares the voice of baseball broadcaster, Harry Caray pleading for his Cardinals to get that two-out RBI base hit.

The next day will bring a mid-morning side street softball game and an afternoon Indian-Ball baseball game. Boys will quench their summer cotton-mouth thirst on a neighbor's garden hose. Older kids know to let the younger boys be 'first' on that rubber hose to avoid that hot nasty taste. Early evening will offer a Little League baseball game or perhaps a locally sponsored community picnic with rides, smells and tastes of cotton candy, corn dogs and Double Cola soda, which is more welcomed than another stick of that powder-coated baseball card bubble gum. We'll leave the Knights of Columbus Picnic after the raffle winner of the Chevy Convertible is announced. The name will no doubt be that of an unknown from somewhere in Texas.

Occasionally, our family ventured to the drive-in theater and by dad's insistence we must leave early enough to secure 'that' spot next to the concession stand and restrooms. That location removed the necessity of parental concerns about kids going to the 'potty' or on a food run. The smell of popcorn and hamburgers were enticing but briefly extinguished by the mosquito fogging vapor machine passing down each aisle before the main feature. Just as it was important for my father to secure that third-row spot next to the concession stand, dad also had to be the first auto out of the theater grounds..."Hi Ho Chevy Bel Aire and a cloud of rock-dust...there goes the Roustio's!"
(Touch)
Summer Sounds & Sights