Today, I had coffee with an old friend and a semi-new, young friend. David and I go back to second grade and I won’t tell you how long ago that was. Might as well keep an air of mystery surrounding my story. Poor David was a bit of a roustabout in school and I was the girl whose mother was the town hairdresser and knew everything about everything, including what I did at any particular moment in time.
I saw David about twenty years ago and told him I was sorry I never hung out with him, but I didn’t want to get into trouble. My mother would hear what I did, who I did it with and what the results were. It never really seemed she noticed when the results were good- only when I’d done something I shouldn’t have with someone I shouldn’t have. I didn’t mean to be blunt or anything, I was just trying to convey the fact that I was quite capable of getting in trouble all by myself!
The semi-new, young friend was none other than the famous Jackie Smith. It must have been interesting for her to hear our stories about the different world we lived in all those years ago. So, here we were two different generations having a blast. I know she was thinking our stories were like her parent’s stories, but I wish I could have been inside her brain . I bet it would have been interesting.
Growing up, David and I had no video games, no computers, no dvd’s or anything like that. Heck, we were lucky television was around.I don’t think we’d trade our childhood for anything. We had so much fun using our imaginations, playing outside til the street lights came on or the sun set – whichever came first. I can’t speak for David, but I loved playing outside- witch, kick the can, kickball, dodge ball, hopscotch, oh.. and here’s a good one- Simon Says. I don’t know if any kids these days even know what Simon Says is. It was pretty much fun and we played it a lot. Pick up sticks, jacks and marbles were also a favorite of mine. Kites were pretty popular, but I was never any good at flying them. Favorite car games were bingo, I spy , tic-tac-toe and hangman.
I never thought I’d say, “Those were the good old days,” but they were. Down the street from me was a guy who drove an old beat up hearse. That’s right, a hearse. It kinda freaked me out because he told me there were notches inside the hearse of all the bodies that were in there. I was a weanie and believed anything anyone told me. Can you say gullible? That was me!
I don’t want to do myself the disservice of telling on myself,but I will. I dated a guy, whom I married at the ripe old age of 16, who told me he manufactured lint for a living. He told me they manufactured the lint and then had distributors who went to the stores and put the lint in the pockets of the coats for sale. And that was why coats had lint in the pockets. I later told him I thought he had an odd job. He had no clue what I was talking about . He said, “I work in a mailroom.” “Oh, I thought you manufactured lint.”
Yep. Those were the days!