(Sincerest apologies for the big delay in posting here. I had some trouble with the blog and I thought it was WordPress. Turns out the glitch was my fault. Then came the book launch and I just got behind. I will make it up to you with a post today and introduce the next guest blogger to you on Monday. Her article was delayed with my difficulty as well).
On Saturdays, I go Retro
I am a creature of my past.
Saturday mornings meant quiet peaceful days, Saturday morning cartoons, playing outside, helping around the house, westerns, Dad mowing the yard, and if the weather was very hot, a black cow (Coke and vanilla ice cream) or a brown cow (root beer and vanilla ice cream) made with Frostie Root Beer and Sealtest Vanilla Ice Cream. The rotary phone did not ring all day long with people trying to
scam, er sell, something. The mailman walked to the front door and put the mail in a box by the door. Kids came to the door and asked my mom if I could come out to play. We made up games by using our imaginations — cowboys and indians, secret agents, or we just rode our bikes up and down the street (people didn’t try to run over you, kidnap you, flash you with flaccid tallywackers, or do drive by shootings. And drugs? Only at the doctor’s office).
Saturday mornings were some of the best days of childhood. We ran everywhere we went. Few children were fat or obese. There was tether ball (I was a champion), roller skates (metal, that clamped on to your tennis shoes and tightened with a key. They tied on your ankles with rawhide straps), playing on the monkey bars, tree climbing, mud pie making, jumping in leaves or puddles, dodgeball, rope skipping, hopscotch, pogo sticks, tiddlywinks, marbles (I was horrible) and jacks (my mother could do all twelve jacks!). Point is, we played – hard – ate meat and potatoes, too. Our bodies were active and busy. And at night, there were books to read, Saturday night was Wonderful World of Disney, and deep sleep that started around 8 or 8:30. None of this allowing us to stay up late at night. Strict bedtime always observed. And believe me, we were worn out and sleep was more than welcome.
These are the happy, healthy, maybe old-fashioned memories of a contented childhood.
Today, I search for westerns on the television. I look forward to opening the house for that fresh air. I still love to have a black cow (which my husband also remembers well), and the sound of the mail truck stopping street side still brings that deliciously anxious feeling. I don’t need to make up games anymore but I get a little wistful when I have to “click to play.” Just doesn’t have the same joy.
Okay, so I don’t run everywhere I go. If I did, I certainly would shed the extra poundage I carry from slowing down. I don’t skate or pogo, tree climb, or monkey bar climb anymore. I am thinking about buying some chalk and doing some hopscotch just to help my body remember how to balance. Rope skipping….well now we can all do some of that.
Of course the Wonderful World of Disney is long gone. I miss the shows about the beavers or the geese or the dogs and cat trying to get home (remember Homeward Bound in the 60′s?). But you can rent those now or buy them and watch them whenever you want. That’s great but….it lacks the thrill of gathering for an event. Hard to convey if you didn’t do it.
Thank God there are yet books. Not eReaders. Books. And I have gobs. I can always count a Saturday enjoyed if I have had an hour or two to dive into a good story. And there is my writing, too. I want to write a book that someone will be happy to delve over on a lazy Saturday afternoon.
So I am a creature of my past. It defines me but does not confine me. Sure, I get nostalgic for “the way things were” but I think every generation does that to some extent. At least they miss the good things they remember, I believe.
I tend to reflect these views in my characters when I write. I want them to have the kinds of Saturdays I did. I give them the same joy and hope of them that I experienced. And if they seem discontent with technology well, don’t blame me. Or blame me because I don’t fall asleep at 8:30. Maybe if I ran everywhere I went again….but no.
Today, now, it’s time for some Real Ghostbuster cartoons, followed up with Tales from the Darkside cartoons, then some Huckleberry Hound. Then I’m having a try at some hopscotch (I even have pink chalk). Afterwards, black cow and then time for a good book (okay today it is an ebook and I wish you could see the face I’m making because I can’t feel the pages). Then I’m going to enjoy a good old-fashioned western, maybe Rifleman or The Virginian. OOh, maybe some Lone Ranger? Something in black and white. How about a movie? Old Yeller, anyone?
Ah, time to go. Catch you another time (maybe 1968?). Until then, when was the last time you colored with crayons? Just 10 minutes and you will find your heart rate calm, your mind eased, your body relaxed. Breathe. Smile. Coloring can reawaken you inner child, but be good for your health, too. Happy Saturday!
(This post is in honor of the most talented blogger Robbie Cox, whose kindness and generocity are unparalled).