1959 was a big year in my life, at least if remembering things that happened means anything. I was raised in Western New York and we lived in apartments right next to a shopping center which was a pretty big thing in those days. It was spring and half of the parking lot was cordoned off with rope. We all started filing in, boys and girls, big and small. Some kind of music was playing as we carried them in, red, green, blue, all colors. Some were striped. Have you ever heard the "rails sing?" I don't really know what happens, maybe it's the air brakes, but sometimes the "rails sing" in the train yards and it is quite a beautiful sound. Well, this was similar, as we would bounce them on the ground they made a similar noise and when hundreds of kids were doing it it sounded like the rails. Orders were given very precisely; "Stand three feet apart and begin when I tell you. When you are touched on the shoulder, exit the cordoned off area." The man with the megaphone shouted over the music to "Start." I had practiced a lot but really was not experienced in any kinds of competition as I paid more attention to the others than what I was doing. Some kids were already filing past me and it probably was no more than a minute since we started. I remember feeling a slight bit of confidence but it started sliding down around my thighs. I was pretty good at keeping it at my waist but really had no idea how to get it back to my waist once it started to drop. Lower and lower it went until it hit the ground and then I felt a tap on my shoulder. I watched for quite a while as the Hula Hoops kept on going round and round until there was a winner.
The family across the hall had the last name Batista. The telephone pole in the middle of the yard between the apartment buildings was second base and Donnie Batista ran into it and broke his glasses. His dad beat him and somehow I formed a commiserate view of Fidel Castro through that. I think today's youth, by and large, evidenced the same level of wisdom in the last election. My parents had just separated and I was sitting in a chair in the living room waiting for my favorite TV show, Twilight Zone to come on, when my dad came home one last time to get his bowling ball. There was irony there somewhere. Every Friday we would go grocery shopping and once a month the grocery store had the new volume of an encyclopedia for sale. I still remember the thrill of carrying that home. We only bought seven volumes but that was enough to start a little fire that never went out.
My friend's dad was a lawyer, yeah they lived in apartments back then. The dad wanted a new life and disappeared one day. At least I saw my dad. An older friend invited me to go to his aunt's farm for a week. My nine years were spent living next to an international airport and a farm was really a different thing. I sustained a deep cut at home in a fall and my left knee was bandaged and I could hardly walk. We went to a carnival in the small town and walking home was pitch dark. Being older, and much braver, my friend was telling me stories of bears in the woods as we walked back, late, to his aunt's farm. The quiet was broken with a "stomping" coming at us from the woods. I couldn't run and saw my friend running far ahead and screaming as his Aunt rode out onto the street on horseback looking for us. There was irony there also. This was my America in 1959
The family across the hall had the last name Batista. The telephone pole in the middle of the yard between the apartment buildings was second base and Donnie Batista ran into it and broke his glasses. His dad beat him and somehow I formed a commiserate view of Fidel Castro through that. I think today's youth, by and large, evidenced the same level of wisdom in the last election. My parents had just separated and I was sitting in a chair in the living room waiting for my favorite TV show, Twilight Zone to come on, when my dad came home one last time to get his bowling ball. There was irony there somewhere. Every Friday we would go grocery shopping and once a month the grocery store had the new volume of an encyclopedia for sale. I still remember the thrill of carrying that home. We only bought seven volumes but that was enough to start a little fire that never went out.
My friend's dad was a lawyer, yeah they lived in apartments back then. The dad wanted a new life and disappeared one day. At least I saw my dad. An older friend invited me to go to his aunt's farm for a week. My nine years were spent living next to an international airport and a farm was really a different thing. I sustained a deep cut at home in a fall and my left knee was bandaged and I could hardly walk. We went to a carnival in the small town and walking home was pitch dark. Being older, and much braver, my friend was telling me stories of bears in the woods as we walked back, late, to his aunt's farm. The quiet was broken with a "stomping" coming at us from the woods. I couldn't run and saw my friend running far ahead and screaming as his Aunt rode out onto the street on horseback looking for us. There was irony there also. This was my America in 1959
