Summer Play

     So, on my 80th birthday, it is another glorious blue (sky) day.  I cannot let it slip useless away.  After Mass this morning, in the church hall, friends celebrated with me.  Coming home, I found two of the couples, good friends from Church,  waiting with two of my sons who flew from California yesterday to be here, my two daughters with whom I live, and a grandson, offspring of one of the daughters.  Sandwiches, tea and cake, plus birthday decorations completed the picture. All of this was a complete surprise and, despite a hot, high wind and clouds, made another blue day.

     It's still summer, and I found something I wrote about children's play in the "good old days."  At my age, it's good to look back and share other "blue" days. Here it is.

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     In the 1940s World War II occupied thoughts and affected everyday lives. Gas rationing kept folks close to home. Food rationing inspired creative recipes for the family table. Grandpa refused to eat that newfangled oleomargarine. It was white, with a yellow color packet to stir in so that it looked like butter (sort of). And then came Spam! Kids, though, could tune out the news coming from overseas, that parents seemed constantly to discuss, and find something fun to do. Even saving tinfoil gum wrappers for the war effort was a game of who could grow the biggest pile.

     Los Angeles in August can be hot and humid. The possibility of getting infantile paralysis kept a lot of us from going to the Bimini "plunge" at the beach. A swirling sprinkler in the back yard had to do. Air conditioning was unknown. The house was kept shuttered and curtained to keep cool air in and hot air out. In the evening, doors and windows were thrown open, screens in place to keep the bugs out, and the house soon was cool enough for sleeping. L.A.'s evening gift was a cool ocean breeze blowing inland.

     Our neighborhood was only a mile from Exposition Park and the natural history and art museums. We boasted a Carnegie Library in Vermont Square Park. The children's department downstairs found plenty of business in the summer. We even talked about books we had read and acted out our favorite
characters in impromptu plays.

     There was no TV to keep us glued to the carpet. We longed to be outside when it was not too hot. Packing a sack lunch and trudging over to the museum was common. We walked through the rose garden, ate a peanut butter sandwich in the Park and strolled through the cool, quiet museums. The mummies were a special attraction, mysterious and creepy. We held our breath near them in case there was a loose curse floating around.

     All ages enjoyed the animal exhibits, behind glass, posed in their natural habitats. Some of the animals looked so alive, I was sure they could run away if they wanted to. The neighborhood kids spent hours in the place. We knew where the caretakers went to maintain the exhibits. Doors were almost invisible in wooden panels around the rooms. A couple of the boys decided to give the visitors a thrill one day. Armed with a length of string, they sneaked through a door beside a display of gazelles. Tying string around the tail of one of the animals, they waited until an admiring group stood in front of the window. A couple of gentle tugs on the string produced some consternation and exclamations of disbelief. Children in the group squealed and laughed with delight. The boys managed to get out before anyone found them, later regaling the neighborhood girls with their escapade.

     Summer evenings were spent playing street games like Kick the Can, Dodge Ball, Hide and Seek, whatever spent a lot of energy so that young bodies would sleep well through the warm nights. If it was unusually warm, there was always a front porch game of Gin Rummy, War, Monopoly, jacks, even craps that one of the older boys learned from his uncle in the Navy. We played for Monopoly money, of course.

     Someone had a ping pong table in their driveway and there was always a spot of bare earth somewhere for a game of Cut the Pie or Mumbledy Peg. Pocket knives were not considered too dangerous for kids in those days. I still have mine.  I had an unfair advantage with (today) a size 5 1/2  foot. It was smaller then, of course. I would put on my most slender shoes so that my foot would fit in the smallest piece of pie left in the circle.  Dirty pool, eh?

     On moderate days there was always time for a front yard touch football game, a roller-skating race down the sidewalk, a contest to see who could jump rope the longest without missing, anything that was a contest of skill, speed  and/or endurance.

     If forced to stay indoors due to unbearable heat or a case of summer sniffles, we girls played school or made clothes for our favorite movie character paper dolls. Sometimes we cut out characters from our comic books. They stuck to the nubby, upholstered furniture and we made up our own scenarios. Had I realized that my original "Superman" would be worth what it is today - well - (here imagine copious tears).

     I wish - oh, how I wish - that my grandchildren and great-grandchildren could experience the carefree, un-scheduled and un-scripted freedom of that long ago summer play.

     Here hath been dawning
     Another blue day;
     Think, wilt thou let it
     Slip useless away?

9/4/11