Where did the time go? When you were a kid, didn’t the 4th of July holiday seem like the middle of summer? Now, in this sped up world of high technology, professional life and child rearing, the holiday comes much too quickly. Sadly, at our house we’re already planning for Labor Day because it’s just around the corner.
Back to our youth: as a kid summertime meant swimming in our backyard pool (including swimming lessons my mom made me take), heading to the beach for the afternoon or just running around the cul de sac in the evening playing hide and seek. We’d stay out until well after dark playing with the neighborhood kids until we got called in from the front doors of our homes. The parents never went outside to get us, they just yelled from the comfort of their living rooms and we complied, most of the time. Life was simple then.
Back to our youth: as a kid summertime meant swimming in our backyard pool (including swimming lessons my mom made me take), heading to the beach for the afternoon or just running around the cul de sac in the evening playing hide and seek. We’d stay out until well after dark playing with the neighborhood kids until we got called in from the front doors of our homes. The parents never went outside to get us, they just yelled from the comfort of their living rooms and we complied, most of the time. Life was simple then.
We would occasionally be spooked by the few bats darting in and out from under the street lamp as they consumed their weight in insects. The girls worried the bats would fly into them or even suck their blood. Or better yet, the rare summertime evening storm that would illuminate our cul de sac with lighting and rumble the neighborhood with booming thunder. One such storm still evokes laughter from my family when we reminisce.By the time the 4th of July rolled around, it was time for the big blow out party of the summer. The annual cul de sac block party! As the only house on the street with a built-in pool, our family unofficially played “host” for the event. That is not to say we did it all, quite to the contrary. Every family had a role and put their all into it to ensure another successful party.
The street was informally closed down (I don’t recall ever getting a permit from the County) and a volleyball court went up thanks to our handy neighbor who made sure the posts were welded and the concrete filled tires could support the net and the players that always crashed into them. Everyone contributed their favorite summertime dishes and drinks, including the Scribner’s popular ‘Secret Sauce’ which, without fail, had all the adults loose, limber and in good spirits.
Little did our parents realize that us kids knew and enjoyed the effects of ‘Secret Sauce’ as well. It wasn’t that we want to drink it, but rather we liked it because it helped encourage them loosen the sober rules and allow more dangerous fun to be had by all willing to take the risk. Usually by 4pm jumping off our roof into the pool commenced.
The first jump of the year was always the scariest. Would I jump out far enough to miss the edge of the pool under the roofline? Would I jump too far and hit the loveseat under the water on the far side? Would I lose my footing and fall crashing down to the walkway below? Fortunately, it always worked out perfectly. Cannonball after cannonball was jumped from a height of about ten feet. Those ten feet might as well have been thirty! At the age of eight, those the brief moments of weightlessness felt like an eternity...and the 4th of July seemed like the middle of summer.