Hey Kid! Come Here
It was wonderful.
In the days before leash laws we “captured” every dog we could find and put them in the fenced front yard – just to see how many we could corral. Saturday matinees cost ten cents. At the age of eight we would walk into town without supervision to ride the range with Roy Rogers. We walked the roads, found pop bottles and traded them at a small market to get the makings of a picnic -- bananna sandwiches and kool aid. Lying in the grass we would watch the movie of clouds that passed above and see animals and faces and mountains. Everything was new and fresh and intriguing and exciting. I enjoyed my childhood.
When my children were born I got a second dose of childhood. “Why is the sky blue?” and I would answer “it’s the interaction of solar light with the upper atmosphere blah blah blah blah blah” and they were happy because they didn’t need to understand. All they needed was my attention and my love. My son wanted chickens and pigs. I said OK to the chickens and no to the pigs, but, somehow one day, I found myself laughing as we were feeding the pigs and he straddled one for a ride. I can still see my daughter going through the waste basket to get discarded mail for some little girl game that I never played and is still a mystery to me. It was wonderful!
My wife and I sometimes take our motorhome to “over 55” resorts that have strict rules about children. “Children may visit only two weeks each year and must be chaperoned at all times.” Bah Humbug!
I’m thinking about retiring and the last thing I want is a small fenced world void of children. I’m not ready to get old and cranky and smelly and die. Nope, not me! Give me a place filled with children and dogs running free and the sounds of laughter. I’m going to search the ditches for pop bottles and trade them for the makings of a picnic and then I’m going to yell “Hey Kid! Come here.” And I’m going to explain why the sky is blue and we'll search the clouds and pet the dogs and maybe, just maybe, I'll learn the mystery of the game with discarded mail. It will be wonderful!
I’ll probably live forever.
In the days before leash laws we “captured” every dog we could find and put them in the fenced front yard – just to see how many we could corral. Saturday matinees cost ten cents. At the age of eight we would walk into town without supervision to ride the range with Roy Rogers. We walked the roads, found pop bottles and traded them at a small market to get the makings of a picnic -- bananna sandwiches and kool aid. Lying in the grass we would watch the movie of clouds that passed above and see animals and faces and mountains. Everything was new and fresh and intriguing and exciting. I enjoyed my childhood.
When my children were born I got a second dose of childhood. “Why is the sky blue?” and I would answer “it’s the interaction of solar light with the upper atmosphere blah blah blah blah blah” and they were happy because they didn’t need to understand. All they needed was my attention and my love. My son wanted chickens and pigs. I said OK to the chickens and no to the pigs, but, somehow one day, I found myself laughing as we were feeding the pigs and he straddled one for a ride. I can still see my daughter going through the waste basket to get discarded mail for some little girl game that I never played and is still a mystery to me. It was wonderful!
My wife and I sometimes take our motorhome to “over 55” resorts that have strict rules about children. “Children may visit only two weeks each year and must be chaperoned at all times.” Bah Humbug!
I’m thinking about retiring and the last thing I want is a small fenced world void of children. I’m not ready to get old and cranky and smelly and die. Nope, not me! Give me a place filled with children and dogs running free and the sounds of laughter. I’m going to search the ditches for pop bottles and trade them for the makings of a picnic and then I’m going to yell “Hey Kid! Come here.” And I’m going to explain why the sky is blue and we'll search the clouds and pet the dogs and maybe, just maybe, I'll learn the mystery of the game with discarded mail. It will be wonderful!
I’ll probably live forever.
posted by Paul at 6:42 PM
7 Comments:
I love the sound of children. My most recent experience was right before it started getting cold, and the bedroom window was open. I was just waking up in the morning and through the window came the sound of children playing in the pool in their yard. They were happily yelling and cheering as they dove into the water.
What an amazing way to wake up in the morning. :) I can't believe some people actually despise that sound.
Sounds like your life has been and continues to be filled with "Haiku Moments"
This post so clearly displays the zest for life you were talking about a few posts ago.
Sorry about the rude picture. Somebody changed the picture that I linked to in order to embarase me.
I am suprized that you have not posted your Haiku on your website. It is certainly worthy it's own post.
Beard,
Thanks for the positive critique of the Haiku. I have considered attempting a few more.
It interesting watching myself age and discovering the new things that I attempt. I'm reading more widely now, more interested in poetry than I have been in years and am enjoying writing for the first time in my life.
Thanks for the encouragement and kind words.
This was beautiful. I have a two year old daughter, and I'll tell ya... through her eyes the world looks wonderously mysterious and filled with posibility. Great post. Thanks for visiting my artwork.
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