Hometown Shout Out

Where I grew up, there was no dinner bell.

There was a dinner yell.

It came from my sister. Every evening, she would walk out the back door, step onto the carport and summon her inner train whistle.

“RHEEEE-EEEEEEET……….SUHHHH-PURRRR!”

The wind could have been blowing 30 miles per hour. I could have been eight blocks away. It didn’t matter.

Somehow, when that call went out, I heard it.

In for a bite. Back out to play.

If you weren’t having fun in those days, you weren’t trying.

My buddies and I lived on our bicycles. We rode them across town and into high water when it rained. We rode them behind the town’s mosquito fogger, losing ourselves in a white cloud. When we needed more horsepower, we attached a motor, courtesy of a baseball card in the spokes.

I once arranged a bike race around the block between two friends, each taking off in opposite directions. They met where they started, crashing head-on.

I collected Mad magazines, hung out in a treehouse and skated on frozen ponds Missouri-style — without blades. When it snowed, it was tackle football in my neighbor’s lot.

We stole Budweisers from the fridge and played Spin-the-Bottle in my friend’s basement.

It was a great time and place to be a kid.

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6 thoughts on “Hometown Shout Out

  1. please keep going….:) how about a novel about your entire life from the very first memory? love your style of writing. I could feel that fog machine on my face…the card in your spokes.
    My mom had a whistle for us kids..like you it came to me thru the breeze….”COOOMMMMIIINGGG” was all i had to reply knowing I had a few minutes to head tail it back home~….

  2. I also vote for the novel ! Love reading your blogs , takes me back to my
    childhood. Kids today don’t have a clue what they have missed.

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