Any of you that spent your early childhood in the country and later childhood in the city knows the embarrasment of that brass cowbell sitting on the table in the foyer.
If my brother and I weren’t home before dark, that bell would ring and you could hear it, inside a house 4 streets away…
The last jumper, on the old school Schwinn Stingray was me and my buddies up until we we got our drivers licenses in
’67. Then, instantly, bikes started rusting behind the garage.
We had a good 10+ years of genuine 50’s-’60’s, rural, semi-suburbia-adjacent, childhood. Our area was old and hilly enough that there was no track housing within miles…sigh…then Saturday night, high school gym, police sponsored dance slow dancing to the Moody Blues. (no actual cops, just a couple cadets).
7 thoughts on “Agreed”
Boy. That hits me in the feels. My childhood.
And there I was in the 1970’s
God, I’m old
But happy I experienced this
Especially the cars in the dirt
Any of you that spent your early childhood in the country and later childhood in the city knows the embarrasment of that brass cowbell sitting on the table in the foyer.
If my brother and I weren’t home before dark, that bell would ring and you could hear it, inside a house 4 streets away…
The last jumper, on the old school Schwinn Stingray was me and my buddies up until we we got our drivers licenses in
’67. Then, instantly, bikes started rusting behind the garage.
We had a good 10+ years of genuine 50’s-’60’s, rural, semi-suburbia-adjacent, childhood. Our area was old and hilly enough that there was no track housing within miles…sigh…then Saturday night, high school gym, police sponsored dance slow dancing to the Moody Blues. (no actual cops, just a couple cadets).
A lot of good memories in the picture and the comments.
Ain’t that the honest truth… you can’t go back.