Friday, May 18, 2018
(NOTE I DID NOT REREAD THIS SIMPLY WROTE IT AND PUBLISHED IT) In these days of truly desperate times and daily if not hourly reports of senseless killings - i try and take a step back to a time when the news did not travel as fast and far. When reality was the evening news or the headline of the newspaper in the morning (or the night owl edition). Growing up in the 1970’s, I would come home from school right on time to watch “The 430 Movie” which would segway into the Eyewitness News on channel 7 at 6 o’clock. I would also spend a lot of time out of the house - on the porch, or playing wiffle ball in the space between the house we lived in and the house next door. It was roughly 10 to 15 feet wide and around 40 feet long. At the end of the driveway there was a gate which we would close to signify a homerun. Behind the “home plate” would be a fence which separated the homes on east 2nd street, where I lived and east 3rd street. If we hit a foul ball in back of us - there were times the ball would go over the fence and into the backyard of the other house. One of the homes had a hole in the fence which we could fit through to retrieve the ball. The other side which had honeysuckles growing out of it was closed with the lady living there quite serious and not so obliging or forgiving. We would need to distract her as she sat on her back porch or to hope that she wasn't there. One time one of us rang her doorbell, which made her get up to answer the door while another one of us climbed the fence to get the ball. It was a close call but after getting pants stuck on the top of the fence, a bee staring him down - he got down and made it before the bee stung him or the lady returned. Romanticizing the past is easy when the present can be so overwhelming. We know deep down that the old days weren't always so good. But we choose to focus on the times that we remember with a smile. I lived between Kings Highway and Avenue S; I spent a lot of time Read more https://ift.tt/2rSkm3b
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