Thursday, August 29, 2019

A Metaphor for a New Reality

Having grown up in the 1960's,  I suppose gives those of my generation a different perspective on certain things.  I recall when I was a kid in the mid sixties eating supper every weeknight at my paternal grandparents' house with my dad and brother. ( My mom worked second shift as a nurse). There was always a crowd for supper every night.  Surprisingly, Grandpa, who was retired, was the chief cook of the household, and a very good cook he was, though that's not where my story is going.

Back then, people spent as much time as possible outdoors in the summer.  The neighbors chose not to put up fences, so we kids had one very GIANT, football field sized yard to play in.  This neighborhood was always alive and bustling with activity.  One person mowing their lawn while in the next yard a game of badminton was going and still in another yard someone was grilling hamburgers.  There were kids running around constantly, riding bikes, playing tag, football and our favorite, kick the can!  At the end of the street was a basketball hoop where teenage boys, sometimes with their dads, would shoot hoops for hours on end. One yard had a huge willow tree where we would grab the long vine like ground sweeping branches and swing back and forth in Tarzan-like fashion.  A crab apple tree in the next yard was a favorite to climb.  There was also a creek at the end of the street where we would catch minnows, tadpoles and frogs.

Though there were no street lights, there was still plenty of light because everyone sat out on their porches in the evening, chatting, eating & drinking ice tea while the kids ran around chasing lightening bugs.  Fast forward to about 45 years later.  We were getting ready to sell my grandparents' house which was still in the family, though they, and my father had passed away.  I had spent several hours cleaning one day and was leaving out the back door, when I spotted the neighbor Mrs. Shultz sitting on her back porch talking to Scott, a childhood friend from the neighborhood who was home visiting his folks.  Mrs. Shultz motioned for me to come over and join them, for which I was delighted because I hadn't seen Scott in years. He was living in Texas and I, in Ohio.

As she always did, Mrs. Shultz offered me a glass of ice tea and the three of us had a nice chat, reminiscing about by gone days.  As we sat there, it dawned on me that the neighborhood was very quiet.  I turned to Scott and said " I don't remember it ever being like this", to which he responded, " I know".  We three were the only ones out.  Everyone else was indoors in the comfort of their A/C, undoubtedly sitting in front of a TV, computer or gaming device of some sort.

As it got darker, the lack of noise, save for the crickets, was unsettling.  It was actually kind of creepy.  This neighborhood, once so vibrant and alive now seemed dead and depressing.  I think of it as a metaphor for how our society has changed.  There is more illness, obesity and other health problems than ever before...something we didn't encounter much those 40 odd years ago.  We really need to get up off our butts and get back to the outdoors as we did back then.  Back to the simple things like shooting hoops and chasing lightening bugs. 

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