I remember the springtimes of my childhood vividly.
They may have been my most favorite time of the year because they signified a whole shwack of things.
Springtime meant warmth, it meant outside things, and it meant not giving a care to anything else except living in the moment.
I say that, of course, from the perspective of being a kid.
What was springtime like for me when I was growing up? Well, let's polish it up and then take a gander into the old crystal ball...
I'm 10 years old. It's the mid-1990's in beautiful Conquest. It's late May coming on June in a few days and the weather is gorgeous. Very warm to outright hot days coupled with mild evening temperatures that mean only one outfit is acceptable - shorts and a t-shirt. Fine by me and my friends, who I meet up with downtown to walk the village and see what we can get up to on evenings.
We take a stroll by the school and see that the large green crash pad used for practicing high jump in track and field was left out after the day was done. Jackpot! We've got an ideal jumping spot for doing legdrops off the monkey bars and powerslams to each other! Evening = made.
I go home to where my mom and dad are. Mom's in the kitchen sitting at the table, on the phone with someone. Dad's in the living room in his chair, watching TV. I tell him of what my friends and I were doing. He seems only half-interested, which is fine by my standards. Mom's a little more interested from the kitchen, so I go out there and tell her. She's a little more parent-ish about it, telling me to be careful doing such things when there are no grownups around, but doing so with a wink and a laugh, the kind only your mom knows how to give while still getting the message across. Message received. She gets me to help her outside with a couple of things before we're sitting in lawn chairs on the stoop, where she surprises me with a Mr. Freezie. The cold treat goes down smooth. It's been a good evening.
The next day on a sunny morning, I walk to school with memories of the night before still fresh in my head. It's almost like a whole new world in my young eyes. It was only the night before where it seemed like ALL of this was OURS for the taking, just us local kids who lived in town and met up to do whatever we pleased. I mean, within reason, of course. We weren't monsters by any stretch.
It's a Friday according to the calendar, which means the day's itinerary at school will go by just a little slower, making the arrival of the weekend all that sweeter.
When 3:30 does indeed arrive, it can't come soon enough. I walk home just a little faster, I drop my book bag off in the house with just a little force, and I'm smiling just a little bigger. Why shouldn't I? It's Friday, man! The weekend is ours! The next 48 hours are going to be Heaven!
And from my young, this-world-is-all-I-know perspective, it is. I catch up with the parents before we sit down to supper, after which I have an evening appointment with my friend Marc down at the Elks park. We swing, we talk, we laugh, we make jokes, you get the routine. We head back to his house for some Sega Genesis. On the menu tonight is Sonic the Hedgehog, which we seem to play for hours. When it's getting late, around 10:00, I head home for the night. On my way there, I can't help but notice the buzz of activity at the Merchants Hotel. The street is lined up with cars and trucks. Apparently, the bar is going to make a fair-size bit of money tonight. I'm obviously not the only one enjoying the fact that it's the weekend.
I get home, where Mom is talking with Alice Porter over the fence, having a coffee. I head inside and make a snack before sitting down to watch some TV. Maybe a movie's on. Maybe a sitcom I like to watch. Home Improvement, maybe? Family Matters? I don't know. I guess I'll find out with the click of the remote. Yes, my friends, back in my day we didn't know what we were going to watch unless we looked at the TV Times program guide that came in the Star Phoenix newspaper. Sorry, no instant channel and programming guide at the click of a button or a tap of a smartphone. We're a few years from that technology yet at this point.
What will Saturday bring? Or Sunday? Who knows? All I know is I'm enjoying life at this stage. All I have to worry about is grades at school and doing my part around the house. Life's good.
This was 25 years ago, friends. A lot can change in that time, and it has, without question. The biggest thing is that both Mom and Dad are gone now. As well, good old Conquest School closed down very shortly thereafter in the timeline that I've described. There's a very big part of me that believes it was the critical blow that the village hasn't recovered from. We take for granted what schools provide the towns and villages where they reside. You take them out and that community may never fully recover, try as they might.
I'm enjoying things from the perspective of a fully-grown adult now, even if I long for the innocence of my youth. You go to work, you make money, you pay your bills, and you enjoy your weekends. Rinse and repeat. It's not rocket science and it doesn't have to be overly complicated, so don't pretend it is.
But man, I miss those days when I was 10. Don't you?
For this week, that's been the Ruttle Report.
