On a Clear Day…
There’s a hold up in the Bronx, Brooklyn’s broken out in fights. There’s a traffic jam in Harlem- that’s backed up to Jackson Heights. There’s a scout group short a child, Khruschev’s due at Idlewild- “Car 54 Where Are You?” Gunther Toody and Officer Muldoon- where are you when we need you? Indelible visuals of their caricatures implanted in our minds. We only wanted them to get back together as partners. Their chemistry was real.

Johnny on The Pony was a fave, rough housing at its best. Great memory and first glimpse into early on-set competition was watching the boys play skully. Remember flicking bottle caps on to a chalk made skully board? Object not over-flicking–nope it’s on the line.

When the going was good, with euphoric recall, we remember the days of no wine, maybe sweet sixteen roses.

We drew the hopscotch board on the part of the sidewalk that was flat. Throwing our skate key as our hopscotch shooter was the thrill- where would it fall? Happy to land with two feet on 3 and 4 or 6 and 7 (double squares). Jumping rope, (sorry no double dutch here.) Trading Barbie clothes and discussing what happened on last nights episode of The Patty Duke Show are such comforting memories of times well lived.

A simple worry was that the street light would go on before we found our skate key en route home to watch the latest episode of Mr. Ed ( a horse is a horse of course, of course.) We loved playing stoop ball- loosely based on baseball, only we used a Spaulding and retrieved it from the stoop steps, rather than from a batter. Big favorite was the game of Jacks. We didn’t care that we were often left with scrapes on the side of our hands from pinky to wrist. Bacitracin and band-aids were big in our house. The boys on the block played Stickball, (baseball with a broom handle.)

And then came the “Whistle.” I think our father practiced it a few times before we heard it coming as a “it’s time.” We did not look forward to hearing that sound at all, and in the middle of a game-ugh! “But Daddy we aren’t done.” We haven’t finished trading candy( red licorice, candy necklaces, Bonomo Turkish taffy( hello Dental implants,) pumpkin seeds, Lik -m-aid and the gum that came with baseball cards, were big on our block and in our home away from home in the Catskills during the summers ( Loch Sheldrake Camp.)
Who remembers sen-sen gum?

Denominations of time didn’t matter. Ten more minutes would have done. We cherished these after dinner nightly reunions. Our early childhood friends are still part of us. Now we share Nexium, diet tips and compare blood pressure meds. Just sayin. The crescendo of childhood memories was getting our baby bead bracelets with the letters spelling our names and encased in gold. Our piece of the sky, indeed. Ok, then, so with resignation and dismay we left the street. Bath time, Ozzie and Harriet and maybe some of Pinky Pinkham-Dorothy Provine-singing a few tunes at the Charleston Club.

The corners of our minds are filled with the innocence of skate keys, Nancy Drew and The Hardy Boys and never a clue that Kurt Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse Five would become the thundering moral statement of our time.

Oh, what we would give to hear that infamous whistle beckoning us to come in, just one more time- And Daddy this time we would come in and right away. Make it a good day!