I had what I think of as an idyllic childhood. It was the late '50's - early 60's and I think it was the best time to be a kid. My neighborhood was full of kids to play with, most moms were at home, and on nice summer days we'd be out the door as soon as we could eat and dress. We'd play games - both traditional, like Tag and Red Rover, and ones we made up, like Movie Star, or we'd hit the swing set, swinging as high as we could go, then letting go of the chains and flying into space! Or we'd hit the streets, strapping on those metal roller skates with the grabber things you adjusted with a key (and which never stayed on your shoes), or our trusty bikes, heading out in packs to roam the neighborhoods and have adventures our moms never knew about. Or sometimes we'd just lay around on the grass, watching clouds or bugs, scratching our mosquito bites and discussing such deep topics as "What'll we do now?", or "If we have enough money between us, we could ride to the mall and get some candy."
Some days, we would walk or bike to the elementary school where there was a jungle gym to climb on, bigger swings, and board games like checkers (both Chinese and regular) and that beans on a board game.
Those were the days. No one worried about kidnapping or germs. We went where we wanted, drank from the hose when thirsty and ate grass and dirt. We settled our fights ourselves, wore our scrapes and scabs like badges and only went in to grab lunch, or if the bleeding didn't stop.
We'd play all day until the chorus of mothers calling kids in to dinner began. Then we'd part ways for the evening, calling our good byes and making plans to meet up the next day, because, in that perfect world and time, there was always a never-ending stream of "next days" to fill.
At least that's how I remember it.
