Thursday, June 05, 2008

• I had a very nice childhood, I'm sure of it, but I really remember very little about it.  Memories do fade and I find myself wishing I had kept a journal when I was young. Talking with little sis earlier today brought up some old memories of simpler times. She is hosting an old-fashioned 4th of July party and I for one am really looking forward to it. 

  When I was a kid, we lived a stone's throw - literally - from the local high school where the town's July 4th festivities took place.  At the school football stadium - I think it was mostly used for track and field, because we went to the high school football games across town at the local college stadium - there was the Jaycees annual Ox Roast, food and game booths, and performances by local bands.  This was where the local kids hung out before and after their home picnics while parents, grandparents and neighbors sat and drank their beers and talked about things that grown-ups talk about. We lived so close that we could run back and forth between there and home throughout the day. The highlight of the daylight activities was a greased pole climbing contest.  Young, strong men would line up in their jeans and white tee shirts and take their turns trying to shimmy up a telephone pole that had been slathered with something like axle grease, slide back down one by one and come away covered in black goo to go to the back of the line and try again. There must have been some wonderful payoff for reaching the top, though I can't recall what it might have been.  I remember sitting in the grandstand watching in admiration thinking it looked like great fun and wondering why it was only boys in that line.  All of this to entertain the folks who gathered inside the stadium waiting for the fireworks display that was set off in the field outside of the stadium area.

  We would have a cookout at our house - I remember the adults sitting, talking and laughing, drinking beer and the kids riding bikes, squirting each other with squirtguns and playing with sparklers and such.  My grandpa kept firecrackers stashed in his pocket and took great delight in tossing one or two out here and there to see us jump in surprise at the POP! POP! There was always so much food - hamburgers, hot dogs, potato salad, baked beans, deviled eggs and watermelon - all the basic picnic requirements.  Dad's project (besides being in charge of the grilling) was the homemade ice cream.  He had one of those old crank ice cream freezers and we kids would all have to take turns turning the crank - for what seemed like hours and hours - while Dad poured ice and rock salt in around the container.  Every so often we would be allowed to stop for a minute and he would ceremoniously open the lid, peek inside and declare, "not yet, keep cranking".  We could hardly wait for the time it was pronounced it ready to eat!  When dusk came, all the folks settled back in their lawn chairs, the kids sprawled out on blankets and we all ooohh-ed and aahh-ed over the fireworks right there in our back yard.  I'm sure millions of people have very similar memories of past summer holidays.  Corny as it sounds, those were truly the "good old days".  That's the kind of party I'm looking forward to at sissy's place.  That's the kind of memory I want to make for my grandkids.  We need to find one of those ice cream freezers.

   

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