F
Foxmeister
Guest
Here comes another birthday for me tomorrow. I'll be 54. When I look back, it didn't bother me when I turned 30, 40, and even 50. This one seems to be harder.
Last night I was having a nice chat on Facebook with several of my friends from high school in Augusta. It's amazing that after all these years, we still have maintained our friendships. We lived in a great neighborhood where a kid couldn't get away with anything because someone would call and tell your parents what you did before you got home. There was 12 of us, a mixture of guys and girls who hung out together all the time. We never dated the girls in our group because we were like brothers and sisters. Us guys wouldn't let just any guy date any of them either. We looked after them.
All of our parents trusted us all being together. The girls parents would even let them go camping with us because they knew absolutely nothing would happen and they would be safe with us. Those were some really great times. We were safe back then. We didn't have all the crazies you have running around today. We still have two living at home in high school and I worry about them all the time because of the nuts running around out there. Of course we didn't have the technology kids have today. If we wanted to play baseball, it meant actually having to use a bat, ball and glove; hit the ball and run the bases. It wasn't our thumbs playing the game on a computer or Xbox.
We never went in the house and said, "I'm bored. There's nothing to do." That was an open invitation to have Mom or Dad give you some extra chores to do. We were outside all the time being physically active. Every Thanksgiving we had the Turkey Bowl where the guys in my subdivision played the guys in another subdivision on the high school practice football field. Tackle football baby with no pads or helmets. We used to have practices to get ready for this game. It was serious stuff.
I'm glad I had a great childhood to provide me great memories for today. I look back at those days and smile. My kids wonder why I like to listen to classic rock stations all the time. Of course they call it old music. I can hear an old rock tune and have a great memory or two that comes to mind.
“I Want to Hold Your Hand” by the Beatles brings back the memory of my little sister’s birth. While my mom was in the hospital I was talking to her on the phone. She told me a joke. “What did the Beatles say while they were sinking in quicksand?” I didn’t know the answer, “I want to hold your hand.” I was in the first grade at that time.
“Love Grows Where My Rosemary Goes” by Edison Lighthouse. I was in the 7th grade and Diane Dinell was the girl I associated that song with when I first heard it. She was a babe.
“I’m a Believer” the Monkees. Me and my best friend Scott sitting up in this tree singing that song at the top of our lungs when all of a sudden we heard two girls, Marina and Joyce laughing. We a little embarrassed.
“Bridge over Troubled Water” Simon and Garfunkel. Delores Sanchez and I used to bring our acoustic guitars to school. She would play that song a lot. My guitar playing sucked, so I took up the drums. I turned out to be a pretty good drummer. Delores is now known as Diego and is the first open transgender male working on Capitol Hill. D works as an assistant to Barney Franks. See, I know people who know people.
“Smoke on the Water” by Deep Purple. I loved hearing this song whenever I drove.
“Frankenstein” by Edgar Winter. I would turn the car radio up real loud when this came on.
“My Ding-a-ling” by Chuck Berry. My friends and I would always sing this one loud in the car. We caught the innuendo in it.
Those are just a few of the songs that bring back fond memories for me. There are lots more.
I played on my battalion softball team as the pitcher when I was 50 and again at 51. I was the oldest guy playing in the league both seasons. The bases seemed a lot further apart than they did before. For the “old guy” on the team, I got on base more than the others. Why run when you can walk, right? Especially when you know you can’t hit the ball over the outfield fence anymore. It was while playing at 51, my playing days were really over; except if there’s an over 50 league around.
So now why am I all of a sudden so nostalgic this night before my 54th birthday? I don’t rightly know. Perhaps I’ve come to realize I am indeed mortal. I can’t do the things I used to do because my body just can’t handle it anymore and that just doesn’t set right with me. I hate it when my body hurts after doing things that were once easy, but now strenuous. I’m getting old and it’s not setting well with me as I’ve always been a really active guy.
One thing nice about getting old though; it’s bringing me back some great memories of my youth that never fail to bring a smile to my face.
BTW, the new avatar is me when I was 17. The girls loved my wavy hair and it didn’t hurt I was the starting quarterback either. Ahhh, the memories.
Last night I was having a nice chat on Facebook with several of my friends from high school in Augusta. It's amazing that after all these years, we still have maintained our friendships. We lived in a great neighborhood where a kid couldn't get away with anything because someone would call and tell your parents what you did before you got home. There was 12 of us, a mixture of guys and girls who hung out together all the time. We never dated the girls in our group because we were like brothers and sisters. Us guys wouldn't let just any guy date any of them either. We looked after them.
All of our parents trusted us all being together. The girls parents would even let them go camping with us because they knew absolutely nothing would happen and they would be safe with us. Those were some really great times. We were safe back then. We didn't have all the crazies you have running around today. We still have two living at home in high school and I worry about them all the time because of the nuts running around out there. Of course we didn't have the technology kids have today. If we wanted to play baseball, it meant actually having to use a bat, ball and glove; hit the ball and run the bases. It wasn't our thumbs playing the game on a computer or Xbox.
We never went in the house and said, "I'm bored. There's nothing to do." That was an open invitation to have Mom or Dad give you some extra chores to do. We were outside all the time being physically active. Every Thanksgiving we had the Turkey Bowl where the guys in my subdivision played the guys in another subdivision on the high school practice football field. Tackle football baby with no pads or helmets. We used to have practices to get ready for this game. It was serious stuff.
I'm glad I had a great childhood to provide me great memories for today. I look back at those days and smile. My kids wonder why I like to listen to classic rock stations all the time. Of course they call it old music. I can hear an old rock tune and have a great memory or two that comes to mind.
“I Want to Hold Your Hand” by the Beatles brings back the memory of my little sister’s birth. While my mom was in the hospital I was talking to her on the phone. She told me a joke. “What did the Beatles say while they were sinking in quicksand?” I didn’t know the answer, “I want to hold your hand.” I was in the first grade at that time.
“Love Grows Where My Rosemary Goes” by Edison Lighthouse. I was in the 7th grade and Diane Dinell was the girl I associated that song with when I first heard it. She was a babe.
“I’m a Believer” the Monkees. Me and my best friend Scott sitting up in this tree singing that song at the top of our lungs when all of a sudden we heard two girls, Marina and Joyce laughing. We a little embarrassed.
“Bridge over Troubled Water” Simon and Garfunkel. Delores Sanchez and I used to bring our acoustic guitars to school. She would play that song a lot. My guitar playing sucked, so I took up the drums. I turned out to be a pretty good drummer. Delores is now known as Diego and is the first open transgender male working on Capitol Hill. D works as an assistant to Barney Franks. See, I know people who know people.
“Smoke on the Water” by Deep Purple. I loved hearing this song whenever I drove.
“Frankenstein” by Edgar Winter. I would turn the car radio up real loud when this came on.
“My Ding-a-ling” by Chuck Berry. My friends and I would always sing this one loud in the car. We caught the innuendo in it.
Those are just a few of the songs that bring back fond memories for me. There are lots more.
I played on my battalion softball team as the pitcher when I was 50 and again at 51. I was the oldest guy playing in the league both seasons. The bases seemed a lot further apart than they did before. For the “old guy” on the team, I got on base more than the others. Why run when you can walk, right? Especially when you know you can’t hit the ball over the outfield fence anymore. It was while playing at 51, my playing days were really over; except if there’s an over 50 league around.
So now why am I all of a sudden so nostalgic this night before my 54th birthday? I don’t rightly know. Perhaps I’ve come to realize I am indeed mortal. I can’t do the things I used to do because my body just can’t handle it anymore and that just doesn’t set right with me. I hate it when my body hurts after doing things that were once easy, but now strenuous. I’m getting old and it’s not setting well with me as I’ve always been a really active guy.
One thing nice about getting old though; it’s bringing me back some great memories of my youth that never fail to bring a smile to my face.
BTW, the new avatar is me when I was 17. The girls loved my wavy hair and it didn’t hurt I was the starting quarterback either. Ahhh, the memories.
