Tuesday, May 7, 2019

Summertime, Summertime

In a few days, Our Lady of Lourdes Catholic grade school, which is adjacent to my backyard will close for summer vacation and with that the playground and athletic field will fall silent. No bells ringing, no children chatter and laughter...nothing but quiet. My wife and I always miss the kids during summer months.

Yesterday, after finishing garden tilling, I was seated on the backyard swing and hearing the youthful voices over my shoulder when I wondered just how different summer vacations might be for a sixth or seventh grade boy of 11-and-12 years old. I still recall those days sixty-eight summers past. There never was lacking enthusiasm for each summer day and no computers or air-conditioning to make 'inside' look more attractive than 'outside.' We were 'OUT-THE-HOUSE!'

The activities were plentiful with essentially no adult organization needed. Early morning side-street softball games required limited numbers and we had enough early risers to make it happen. Later in the morning it was Indian Ball (an original St. Louis game; look it up). In the afternoon a sandlot game surely got under way. Two week-nights were organized baseball youth leagues.

Sure we had breaks in the action...that's when we poured a bag of peanuts into a Pepsi bottle and  pitched pennies or baseball cards against outside building walls and the winner was the guy whose   coin/card ended closer to the wall. As night fell, we organized kick-the-can games, which could be interrupted by the hot tamale push-cart guy. No, we were not always 'good kids.' Rotten eggs found behind a grocery store was a terrible temptation as was  water filled balloons. I'll leave it there.

At ages 13-to-15, we added citywide open gyms, which provided the opportunity to play basketball games against the best talent offered East of the mighty Mississippi. America Legion baseball was huge in the St. Louis metropolitan area. Of course, we were now factoring girls into the our summer schedules. Who am I kidding? They were factored in 'all seasons.' Those years before age 16, when we could get summer employment, we were gone from sun up to the supper hour and then in the backyard shooting hoops under the floodlights. Parents seemingly did not worry about our whereabouts.

Today, I cannot help but notice the absence of youth on summer sandlots and never do I hear neighborhood children voices engaged in street and sidewalk games. My own Grandkids seem to be involved in organized activities with adults explaining and managing the games. I wonder if these kids are denied developing leadership and organizational skills as a result of evaporating informal play?

 Perhaps technology, air-conditioning and safety fears have softened and cheated my grandkids. School bus transportation means kids don't walk and talk much any more, instead their social networking is a text message. Interpersonal communication skills are a crap-shoot. It's much cooler inside playing 'Super Lego DC Super Villains.' No sweating. And unfortunately, parents seem to have more worries these days than in the 1940's regarding serial killers, sexual perverts and kidnappers. Mom stopped warning me about those baby-stealing Gypsies at the edge of the city once I turned eleven. I suppose she figured no body wanted a dirty grimy adolescent boy.
(Touch)
Schools Out

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