Anyone who has seen the movie Citizen Kane knows what “Rosebud” represents, so I need not explain it here. However, let me pose this question: What is your Rosebud?
Mine is quite simple. It’s a ball. A small pink rubber ball. The Spaldeen.
Today’s children, including my own, who grew up in the suburbs, cannot have the same affection for this small sphere of enjoyment. It was used in so many ways: thrown in a game called Running Bases; slapped in a game called Slapball; smashed with a broom handle in Stickball; bounced in Box ball; pitched against the red bricks in Stoop ball and even bounced on the asphalt in a game called “I declare war.”
The ball never got tired and neither did we.
Sure, I had an electric train set, cowboy six shooters, a Fort Apache set, Monopoly and Clue. But none of these things gave me the hours of pleasure that playing with that high bounce pink ball did.
The only thing that came close, but was still a distant second, was my bicycle. Like a car to a teenager, the bicycle gave a youngster freedom of movement. Can you imagine a parent sending a pre-teen to the store on a bike today? They’d be brought up on charges. But our parents thought nothing of it. Or maybe they did, and we just didn’t realize it.
To this day, one of my favorite leisure activities is tossing a ball to my younger daughter as she bounces on a trampoline. It’s actually a football and she can throw a spiral way over my head. I’m just happy I can keep up with her, although my wife is constantly reminding me to act my age.
Little does she know that when I’m playing ball, I’m still 12 years old.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment