Summer Circa 1960
by Gary Hardaway
I sweated a lot as a kid. And burned
to a golden brown the skin exposed
to Texas sun. A latch key boy, free
to do the stupidest things-- like jumping
off the carport roof clutching a homemade
flying machine that couldn't fly and
proving the force of gravity with a wrist
sprained and untreated that's stiff still
today. No x-ray, no MRI, just ice and
aspirin and my mother's lecture about
risk and painful reward. The cash flowed
out much faster than it flowed in. It was
a glorious childhood none I think today
enjoy. That I survived is just a bonus.
I love the images in this. *
I want this for my grandchildren, should I ever have any. Made me feel my childhood sun, which really was golden, I'm certain of it.
I didn't jump off any roofs, but I fell off a branch pretty high up in our best climbing tree. Same kind of deal. Great! *
I didn't do anything reckless when I was little. That came after puberty.*
"No x-ray, no MRI, just ice and
aspirin and my mother's lecture about"
That defines my childhood. **
*, Gary. Lovely verse and a rite of passage.
Beav, time for dinner! Tell Wally he has to go home! *
Good glimpse at childhood. Enjoyed the poem, Gary.
Nice. 60s parenting was definitely less anxious. Today, it's nuts.
Thanks to everyone for the kind comments.
*
and Amanda, that is a poem, like a haiku.
Ha! Yes.
I must have weak ankles; it was them that sprained in my verandah-leaping-off.
No sympathy for stupidity in those days. Maybe that's what's wrong with the kids. Not the adventures, the bandaids.
Lxx
What R.K. said.
Exactly. *
A glorious childhood indeed! Really nice, Gary.
Strength derived from simplicity: both in childhood and in couplets. Good poem, Gary.
*
Thanks very much Jerry, Letitia, Gita, Bill, and M.J.
Oh I love the ending!
Perfect.
*
Thank you, Michelle.
A glorious childhood indeed. *
Thanks, Jake.
Beautiful thoughts, beautifully captured *
Thank you, Foster.
Lovely. And it particularly resonates with me today, as, at age 62, I fell into a ditch 2 weeks ago; rib still hurts, untreated, but I am happy as a clam. Or should that be lizard in my case? *
Thank you Beate. I wonder why clams are considered so happy anyway?
This made me think of Calvin and Hobbes and their endless summers. Which made me very happy indeed.
Thank you, Jane.