MY SUMMERS AS A KID

 The other day we were discussing the lack of lightning bugs and after I got home, it was time to jump into the time machine.

I grew up in a small town south of O'Hare Airport where no one locked their doors and Dads sat on the 3-step front porches drinking a beer on a warm summer night. Everyone waved to everyone except Mr. Crawford who hated the world and had the only fenced in yard on the block, probably because his house was located right next to Whittier School...and you can't trust those public school hooligans.

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Summer nights were made for catching DOZENS of lightning bugs in a mason jar and at the end of the night, Dad would poke holes in the cover so the bugs could breathe. (??) In the morning, we would release the ones that were still alive and do it all over again the next night but I could never figure out why we kept them overnight in the first place. You could ONLY chase lightning bugs in the back yard because the adults all sat in the front and running thru the grass would 'stir up all the mosquitos' and maybe get you a whack from your parents.

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4th of July was spent on the grounds of Villa Scalabrini old folks home where we would enjoy a town picnic until it started getting dark and then we had to search for the 'perfect' spot on the berm to watch the fireworks. Interesting that the kids were all unattended with the same instructions......................... to meet up with the parents at the beer tent after the show was over. 

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Almost every kid collected baseball cards and doubles or triplicates IMMEDIATELY were put in the spokes of our bikes and held with a clothes pin and the sound of the new ones snapped so loud we felt like we were going a hundred miles an hour. When my Mom asked where I got the clothes pin, I told her from Mrs. Cervone across the street and she would shrug and say ok. Jim, of course, told his Mom that he got the clothes pin from my house. Geniuses.....We both became police officers.

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BIG TREAT on a summer night was when the mosquito fogging truck would come thru the neighborhoods spewing out DDT and being the future Einsteins that we were, we would either run behind the truck or ride our bikes if he came early enough but the parents would only say 'look at those goofy kids.' Nothing beats going to bed smelling like mosquito fog.............. but every mosquito immediately dropped dead when they entered our bedroom.

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THE BIGGEST TREAT at anytime during the summer was the arrival of the ice cream man, the ice cream boy or the Good Humor truck. Now let me explain the difference because it caused many debates. The ice cream BOY pedaled a white cart full of dry ice up and down the street during the day ringing bells that were affixed to the handle bars and you could buy a cheap popsicle or  ice cream bar from him, maybe a dime. 

Now the Good Humor man drove a white truck and had fancier bells to alert you of oncoming calories and when you yelled "Hey Good Humor Man" you would see the brake light go on and the truck pull over and out stepped a guy with a white uniform, bow tie and a white hat. And on the side of the truck were colored pictures of the goodies he had inside and when he opened that door to reach inside that refrigerated truck, you could see the frost smoke escaping into the warm summer day and you KNEW everything was cold. The problem was that the cost of ALL of his products was higher than the ice cream boy but once I tasted a toasted almond bar, I was hooked like a heroin addict. Damn the 20 cents!

But those two guys disappeared by dinner time and then your only hope was to hear carnival music blasting out of that ugly converted green van anytime after dinner. Same program....yell out 'ice cream man' and take off running after the truck. The difference was you could normally hustle your Dad out of a couple dollars (remember he's always sitting on the front porch) and the ugly green truck also served SOFT ICE CREAM and he made banana splits, milk shakes, hot fudge sundaes plus very large cones....vanilla, chocolate or swirl. YOWSA! Dad always wanted a chocolate cone and Mom a hot fudge sundae.

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I was told not to forget the baseball games on the fields at Whittier School. We would play in the morning, have lunch and return to play until dinner time and then one more game UNTIL THE STREET LIGHTS CAME ON!!! Then you had 5 minutes to get home. Seriously! But don't stir up the mosquitos when you came running to beat the deadline.

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We rode bikes, played baseball, caught lightning bugs, waved sparklers at night, "smoked' cat tails that we found by the swamp, climbed trees, fell out of trees, broke arms, got casted, played army, played cowboys, cut thru Monkey's Path if we were going to the rougher side of town and always avoided Frank Luckenbach's house.

We traded baseball cards, went to Gray's drug store to buy the baseball cards AND comic books, got crewcuts, and NEVER wore shorts.......because shorts were for girls. Only jeans. And every kid had patches on his jeans. White gym shoes were faster than black ones and we only had high tops. Our baseball bats were measured in inches, not ounces, and having an official rule book in your pocket made you the guy who ended ALL arguments.

The Cubs were on all summer long during the day because they didn't have lights and the White Sox only televised weekend home games. Both teams televised road night games.

Our streets were gravel and we had no sidewalks. The ditches flooded every time it rained hard. The oil truck would come down the street and spray a path which helped hold the stones together a while longer but you avoided that street with your bike for a couple of days. Paper boys delivered everyday and had to collect every Saturday. Dogs ran loose and almost nobody complained unless the dog dug up flowers. If you got bit, your Mom washed it with soap and sprayed Bactine on it and sent you back out to play with instructions to stay away from that dog. NOBODY SUED ANYBODY.

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And that's the end of my ride in the time machine. I know that I've forgotten to put down a lot but I think you get the idea. A much simpler time.   Please remember that if I start to act crazy or you get mad at me...............I was right behind the mosquito fogging truck every time he came down our street. LOL! HAVE A GREAT SUMMER!