“When I was a child…”
It may sound like I’m an 89-year-old about to drop some major heat on the younger generation.
I’ll let you decide.
Televisions, cassette players, radios, internet, video games, and cell phones all existed when I was a child.
I had only one of them.
It was used to play cassette tapes.
Childhood was wonderful. We had so much fun.
We played outside a lot. We had an honest-to-goodness fort. We had BB guns. Machetes. Axes. Knives. A heaping helping of parental care and guidance, and a healthy dollop of common sense.
We had a fantastic time outside on the three to four acres that surrounded us.
We herded cows on long cattle drives to Texas, chased bison on the prairies, and escorted Lewis and Clark on their expedition. We played cops and robbers, cowboys and Indians, fought in the Civil War (always on the winning side), and our houses were the main stops on the Underground Railroad. We were flying Aces in the War to end all Wars. We rescued Jewish people from the claws of the Holocaust and stayed at the Beje in Holland. We stormed the beaches at Normandy. I played in every NBA Finals game with Michael Jordan. He passed the ball to me. The amount of times I hit a game-winning shot is innumerable. And then I had to reenact the replay. It was slo-mo. Quite a sight to see, I’m sure. I wish there was a video.
We threw dirt, rocks, sticks, hatchets, and probably each other. Our horses were the fastest. So were our QuickDraws. The Wild West was tamed under our rule. Right prevailed, evil always failed. We rode a prehistoric Cub Cadet lawn mower around pretending it was a car from the 1950s. One year, it was unseasonably “warm” in early December, so we ran around barefoot outside. We made sure to put our shoes back on before going to the house. That may have been the winter we were sick all the time.
We climbed gigantic pine trees. We’d throw a chain around them and hoist ourselves up. Then I fell after getting halfway up. Almost broke my left wrist. It hurt for a week. I wrapped it in some type of flesh-colored stretchy gauze. Then I wore a wrist guard originally intended for protection while roller-blading. After the pain subsided, I told my parents what I did.
We lived through everything. At times, just barely. But we did.
I was in my late teens before I played a video game. Still can’t handle a controller very well. I got a broken (but still working) cell phone when I was seventeen. I could only text and call my parents because unlimited was not invented yet. A couple of years later, I was able to text however many texts I wanted to after 9:00 P.M. I was twenty when we got the Internet. It was not for mindless scrolling, it was used for college assignments. It was not wireless. One computer at a time. Television and movies were a rare occurrence at my Grandparents.
It was a good life. I didn’t know what was going on in the world. I didn’t know about American Idol until season eight. I didn’t need to know.
We weren’t living off the grid. My parents probably knew about everything going on in the world. I just didn’t pay any attention. School, church, work. That’s about it. Read a lot of books, worked with my dad, went to the lakes and rivers, and just enjoyed life.
I’m attempting to say that I never kept up with the times.
Do you know the latest TikTok dance? Me neither. And I’m not upset about it.
Things change every few years. It’s almost impossible to keep up with everything.
And that’s okay.
It seems like we’re a society full of anxious people raising anxious children. We’ve got so much bombarding our minds. Sleep apnea, depression, anger, hurt. Our functioning is fueled by caffeinated beverages. I think we need to take a step back. We should always be progressing, but we’re progressing in the areas of least importance.
What is important? Focusing on what is beneficial, not superficial.
One thing I know for certain: Kindness, goodness, patience, peacefulness, love, and giving a lot of grace will never be out of style.
Those are trends with which I’ll do my best to keep up.
to those keeping up with the Jones’,
– Caleb
caneymountainblog.com 