Ohmystinkinheck

As a child the first days of summer were nothing short of magical. I grew up in suburbia - one of hundreds of blocks whose street names all started with “Sage”. From age 3 ’til 12 I lived on Sageaspen. In 6th grade my family moved about 12 blocks away to a bigger house on Sagedale. Sagedale was never magical - just a bigger house.

Sageaspen, however, was perfect. A street with over a dozen kids, many of us within just a few years of each other, was never dull. Summer days were spent outside playing hide-n-seek, riding big wheels - and as we got older, bikes, playing in sand piles, avoiding traffic while playing kickball in the street, “Tag! You’re It!”, making up random aventures where Bill liked to play The Incredible Hulk, truth or dare, and because we were complete idiots, “chicken” on our bikes. You remember that game Chicken, right? Ride as fast as you can toward the other bike rider and see who turns first? Except we had to increase the stakes by “pumping” an additional member on our handlebars who would direct us WHEN to turn because we couldn’t see. Blind Rider is what we should have called it. Thrilling.

Summers meant extra wax paper for the metal slide at the park and lots of bumps and bruises when we went too fast and slipped off the side, way above the ground, instead of making it to the bottom. That was when you could still get hurt at the park; before plastic became the park mainstay. Everything was wood or metal. I came home with deep splinters, cuts, and complaints and it was FABULOUS.

Every kid had a bike and we’d ride it everywhere - not like today where kids are under lock and key. We were allowed to roam for blocks and blocks and blocks as long as we told our parents the general direction we were going. People drove slower through neighborhoods, we all knew each other, fewer backyard fences, more street parties and sitting on the front porch.

Sometimes we’d tire of our neighborhood and gather a group to ride bikes a few miles away to the local convenience store and buy candy smokes and candy powder to lick off candied sticks. Surprisingly, no one talked about the effects of the sugar, none of us were diagnosed with ADD or ADHD, we rode off our candy and we slept as hard as we played. Back then I had a baby blue Fantasy Island bike with a long banana seat. My baby blue tassels would flitter in the wind. I was FREE.

There were ditches all around with turtles beggin’ to be shot with bb guns and drainage tunnels to be investigated. We were insane. Our parents would have died had they known. Adventures in suburbia.

That lady on the corner? The one who spit tobacco (or at least we imagined she did) and had the coveted white rocks around the flower beds that flanked her home? She was our fairytale ogre. We’d have to creep into her land, crouching beneath her windows, to steal the magical white rocks. How else could we mark off the starting line for our races, write our names on the sidewalk, play tic-tac-toe or hopscotch, or heal the wounds of those injured in the battle of the sticks swords?

When it would get too hot the parents rotated out the damage to the water bill and put out a sprinkler or hose. We’d play, dance, jump and glisten in the sun until we were spent. Sometimes we’d gather a car washing posse and earn a few quarters for the ice cream truck. Ah, the ice cream man and his “jack in the box” tunes he’d project on speakers through the neighborhoods. You could hear him coming from far off. We always had a plan. We sent runners to each side of the block to flag him down and then we’d run inside to gather the monies we needed to get our sugar fix. Runners were compensated, no worries. We were a gang. We worked together.

Remember the fudge bomb with chocolate and banana stripes? Oh, those went down sweet! My next door neighbor, Stacy, always got the pink ice cream with the bubblegum in the toe. We all had our favorites.

And then, the night would draw near, the heat would have lifted from the cement. We’d lay down and stare at the clouds, lamenting the day’s end; passing Pop Rocks and wishing that last street light would stay off forever. A dozen kids all hunkered underneath the same street light - all living under the same suburban rule… “Be inside when the streetlights come on.”

Summer isn’t the same. But every once in a while if I stick my head far enough out of the window of the ‘burban, feel the wind pull at my hair and close my eyes … I get a glimpse.

15 Responses to “Dog days of summer.”

1. MR. OMSH

   Suburbia…better than the white trash world in which my dreams were generated…Jeff Foxworthy, eat your heart out!

   Good post OMSH, with a lot of good memories.

2. Big Mama

   This brought back so many good memories. Nothing better than capping off a long day with a carton of candy smokes.

3. Jill - GlossyVeneer

   My wonderful summer memories come from the street in Illinois my family lived on until I was 7. (No ‘Sage’ in the name though.) It was a cul-de-sac and all the kids on the street, of all different ages, would play outside together. I remember long lines of kids sitting on the curb around the street as we popped the tar bubbles that would emerge from the overheated roads. In the evenings we would all run around to catch fireflies. It was just such a picture of innocence and carefree summer days. Thank you for your wonderful post, to remind me of my childhood summer memories.

4. Kelly

   I wish my son was able to experience such a carefree childhood… it’s so sad to think of him only able to play in the backyard, getting consent from parents to jump on the trampoline so we can’t get sued if something happens, etc…

   I remember playing hide and seek, ALWAYS hiding behind the bushes of one of the MANY houses on our street… then always having to go pee after I found the perfect spot. haha

5. OMSH

   Big Mama - bwahaha - we were SOOOOOOOO cool. NO ONE KNEW the were fake. Not even when we ate them. bwahahaha!

   Jill/GlossyVeneer - I completely forgot about the tar bubbles! The city would fill in the cracks with tar and I remember those!

   Oh, and the truck that rode up and down all the streets spraying insecticide to help reduce mosquitoes. We were all terrified and ran to our homes, pressing our faces on the door so as not to inhale the “poison”.

   Kelly - I hate that whole “getting consent from parents” thing. We have a trampoline too and it has crossed my mind MANY times that we could be taking a chance. I refuse to give in though. I don’t WANT to live in that world.

   I hid behind air conditioning units. And I DO remember trying to regulate my breathing so I wouldn’t be heard. heh heh

6. DaisyCake

   that was a great post. It took me back in time.
   Aaah, the good “old” days!

7. Kami

   our kids just don’t know what they are missing… progress… BAH!

   I still love summer but it has lost the freedom that it once gave kids.

   Great post!

8. Cassie

   “be inside when the streelights come on” Ahhh…what a rush of a memories.

9. Friglet

   What a great post! It brings back so many happy memories, yet makes me so sad. My kids will never experience it quite that way. I try to get it as close as I can though. ;)

10. MMM

    I LOVED this post! I don’t even remember telling the parents where I was going. I was outside all flippin’ day!! It’s so sad kids can’t still live like that. And the pink ice cream foot ROCKED!

11. KYouell

    ^— bookworm. Spent lots of summer days by myself, inside, reading my heart out. I don’t think I’ve read more than 3 books since The Biscuit was born. Maybe 2 weeks from now on vacation? I did do A Tree Grows in Brooklyn last summer with Daring Young Mom. Perhaps there is some hope for recovering some of my childhood summers.

    I did have one summer in Texas though (1975 — I was 9) and we spent a lot more time outside that year. I could blame California for all the time I spent inside, but that year in Texas was the only time my mom didn’t have a job so that we weren’t with a babysitter. Maybe she was the reason I was outside more that year!

12. Mim

    Wanted to post this earlier.

    Thank you for such a beautiful post which sent me daydreaming.

    Mine was a purple bike with a sparkly banana seat and the other mode of transportation was roller skates- white boot with metal wheels clickety-clacking down the street. Fireflies, swinging on vines over the ravine, and watching fireworks at the cemetary.

    We’re planning on moving to another house in the same community but we’ll be off the main road and in our own little lovely ‘burb neighborhood.

13. OMSH

    DaisyCake - It really is sad that we can now look back to our childhood and say things like “The good ol’ days.” I swear - when in the heck did I grow up?

    Kami and Friglet - My kids listen to my stories and say, “How come we can’t even ride our bikes past the neighbor’s green mailbox?” I struggle to figure out how to word it so as not to scare them. “Mommy is paranoid of kidnappers and anyone driving a white van?” Think that’ll work?

    Cassie - You too, eh? Good stuff. :)

    MMM - “And the pink ice cream foot ROCKED!” I’ll pass on your sentiments to Stacy if I ever see her again. I never went for pink ice cream. I tried strawberry milk once and nearly yacked, so pink ice cream was totally out of the question. But I did covet that bubblegum. She was chewing long after all of us had finished ours!

    KYouell - I was a bookworm too. Every Saturday morning from 9-12 I would get dropped off. I’d listen to whoever read the book for the day. Sometimes they’d show a Dr. Suess cartoon (I can remember those pants without the body running around). And then I’d go up and down the aisles, looking for that perfect 3 or 4 books to read that week.

    Books were for after the streetlights came on! :)

    Mim - ROLLER SKATES! Oh yes, white boot and blue pom poms. Man, couple that with a Grease Lightening shirt and I was the coolest chick on the block. I called them “professional skates” back then. How did I forget about the roller rink and singing WE WILL ROCK YOU at the top of my lungs while going round and round in circles with my best friend at the end of the rink.

    You do the hokey pokey and you turn yourself around … THAT’s WHAT ITs ALL ABOUT. Yes ma’am!

    Good memories all - thank you guys for sharing yours.

14. Kami

    HA! Sure that’s not likely to scare the pants off of them :-)

15. OMSH

    Bwahahaha - I know, right?!