Childhood can be a dangerous endeavor.
It’s a jungle out there!
I think That’s especially true if you grew up in the seventies or eighties.
It was a reckless time.
Playgrounds were scary places.
there were the steel monkey bars that were always a challenge to us short kids, but at least if we fell, the concrete would break our fall (and possibly our collarbone).
There were wobbly, brightly colored merry go rounds that could shoot an average sized kid 75 yards.
Don’t forget the tall rusty metal slides that would give you tetanus AND drop you off in a mosquito laden mud puddle.
Good times.
We stayed outside all day long…usually barefoot…WITHOUT cell phones…GASP!
We ate dirt and bugs and pop rocks.
We could do amazing feats of play with just a stick.
We never wore seat belts or car seats, the only restraining safety device we had was mom’s arm .
We rode our bikes over homemade ramps without ever even thinking about wearing a helmet. We did wheelies and rode around any patch of mud we could find.
because we lived out in the country, my brother and I would burn the trash in our backyard. We would throw in cans of aqua net. It was a loud, beautiful explosion.
We ate paste and occasionally ran with scissors.
We chased each other with Roman candles and pop bottle rockets.
We rode everywhere in the back of a truck. We once rode all the way from Longview, Texas to Tulsa, Oklahoma in the back of an old Chevy truck. It was 285 miles. It was in the fall and it was freezing!
We…never…once…used hand sanitizers…yup, it was crazy man!
Childhood can be a dangerous endeavor.
It’s a wonder we survived.
It’s a true testament to the resilience of the human person.
I start feeling like I really accomplished something…
Until I talk to someone a little older than me.
Every previous generation had it worse.
we are the generation that survived…so are they!
The previous generation thought we were a bunch of babies.
We accuse the next generation of being entitled.
Every future generation has it a little better.
I think that’s supposed to happen.
We ARE getting softer.
BUT, that doesn’t mean we have to get safer!
As kids the reason that we almost died is because we really lived!
To live is to risk.
You can try to live without danger or discomfort.
Wrap yourself in bubble wrap, avoid spicy food and stay inside your bedroom.
But that’s not really living. It’s merely surviving…BIG difference!
Stay or play?
as a kid I chose play, I still do.
Every generation needs to find new ways to really live.
Laugh…learn…LIVE!!!
Talk to strangers.
Love, even when you know it’s gonna hurt you.
Pop some wheelies.
Have the kind of adventures that take your breath away and bring life to your soul.
The gift of life, when properly handled, can be a dangerous endeavor.
Live it!!
carbonated joy 