It’s strange now, to think of the Eighties
When the era of outside childhood was close to death
When the era of outside childhood was close to death
but had not yet died
Three years on Oak Street and two in the steep Raymond Hills
The outdoors, though in the dusky suburbs,
Three years on Oak Street and two in the steep Raymond Hills
The outdoors, though in the dusky suburbs,
still owned our utmost enchantment
We formed our gangs, walking the sidewalks with plastic rifles
and making teepees from palm fronds after windstorms
A swimming pool never had such appeal as then,
We formed our gangs, walking the sidewalks with plastic rifles
and making teepees from palm fronds after windstorms
A swimming pool never had such appeal as then,
and so long would we swim
that night lights became fuzzy
that night lights became fuzzy
and our eyes burned in bed at night,
leaking chlorine as the crickets chirped.
Sitting on skateboards we’d careen down hills
leaking chlorine as the crickets chirped.
Sitting on skateboards we’d careen down hills
and crash in the grass, and do it again.
Outside with lemonade and pizza
Outside with lemonade and pizza
we braved the bathwater currents
of summer’s Santa Ana’s.
It seems there were more neighbor kids then,
of summer’s Santa Ana’s.
It seems there were more neighbor kids then,
all members of secret clubs
Yet this childhood was incomplete
Old pals abandoned their trees,
Yet this childhood was incomplete
Old pals abandoned their trees,
now tantalized by Nintendo
It was hard to beat Double Dragon
It was hard to beat Double Dragon
or Mike Tyson’s Punch Out
This challenge now chosen over making a tree house
Or breaking into the apartment basement
I was only seven or eight when I heard
This challenge now chosen over making a tree house
Or breaking into the apartment basement
I was only seven or eight when I heard
the last whisper of that age of creative play
How lucky we were
How lucky we were
to splash in the last of its ancient shallows
How long it must have survived—up until these Eighties
From Creation, for centuries
From little Charlemagne with his sword in the forest,
How long it must have survived—up until these Eighties
From Creation, for centuries
From little Charlemagne with his sword in the forest,
to a pack of boys exploring the
recesses of a Builder’s Emporium
The death didn’t happen at once, though,
recesses of a Builder’s Emporium
The death didn’t happen at once, though,
but started undercover, mid-century
and like a seed it worked slowly,
and like a seed it worked slowly,
laying the plans for later decades
I know, from my folks’ stories of model cars
I know, from my folks’ stories of model cars
and of day treks on the railroad tracks
These things they did,
These things they did,
yet in their homes there too lurked a television
It was a slow death for this era,
caused by the very same electricity
It was a slow death for this era,
caused by the very same electricity
we could not now do without
But perhaps the era is not dead
For there are still some with the outdoor itch
I see them on skateboards or playing sports
Refusing their veins viscosity
Loosening electricity’s grasp
They truly live
But perhaps the era is not dead
For there are still some with the outdoor itch
I see them on skateboards or playing sports
Refusing their veins viscosity
Loosening electricity’s grasp
They truly live
3 comments:
Ah, you make me miss the outdoor days of my childhood all over again. Don't give yourself too much credit, though, because making me crave my childhood is not a difficult thing to do. :)
Way cool blog.
You reminded me of your dad's and my childhood. All the kids in the neighborhood would be outside all day. We made forts, played hide and seek and did some sneaking around other people's yards too. When we went over to your cousin Fred's house we used to play "Ding Dong Ditchem". We had a lot of fun with our cousins, always outside. Alleys were especially interesting places to me and I would cut through them on my way home from school whenever I could.
When we were little and got a TV we all watched as a family. John and I had zero say in what we watched. We never watched TV during the day except sometimes on Saturday when they used to have old westerns and a few really bad cartoons.
I remember walking on the railroad tracks and can remember how it smelled out there in the heat. We tried to dig a deep tunnel once in the back yard until our dad told us that there was probably a septic tank under there. In the old days we used to burn our trash in an incinerator in the back yard. My friend Nancy and I would make mud pies and bake them on the top. We also used to have fun playing with the ice that our mom threw out on the sidewalk after defrosting the refrigerator.
You are an incredibly talented writer, Jonathan! I was completely taken back. Same goes for other pieces I've read. Simply amazing...
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