Today I Am 3 Years Old
What could trigger childhood memories, bidding them to return to me during my days of advanced age and graying hair?
Dump trucks. A whole, modern fleet of dirt-hauling dump trucks.
There is construction going on behind the building where my Barnes & Noble store is located near Baltimore. The old parking lots where employees were assigned parking passes are now being dug up and getting hauled away to make room for (yes, really) a parking garage and a movie theater complex.
What does this have to do with my childhood centuries ago? Well...
When I was about 3 years old my parents and I lived in what may have been referred to as Army Surplus Housing or something like that. (I was 3 and I don't remember for sure what they were called) During the final months we lived there the old buildings behind the houses were being demolished. I remember seeing dump trucks hauling away earth and debris on a regular basis. It was fascinating to my young self, so much so that when our family stopped at a five and dime store to buy some things I noticed a display of metal toy trucks and asked Dad to buy me one. Give a kid of the Fifties a metal toy truck and some dirt to play in and you've got one happy child.
Those were days of pajamas, Romper Room, chocolate milk and teddy bears. I remember watching for the milkman's Cloverland truck to stop in front of our house to deliver the bottles of fresh milk several times a week. I remember looking at my Little Golden Books, one about Bambi, one was a story about a kitten that climbed a wall, and one was a story of Sleeping Beauty (Disney version). I was fascinated with the friends of Sleeping Beauty who could fly and do magic. For some reason no toy in my toybox would hoist ME aloft. It was frustrating and disappointing.
Imagination took wing much more easily in those days. A child does not give himself permission to dream, to fly, to believe the impossible. He sees joy and light everywhere he looks and he is happy.
The dump trucks brought back 3 year old Curt today. I want to dream, to fly, to hope, to laugh like he did. Like I did.
I want to play in the dirt again. It's gonna be great!
Dump trucks. A whole, modern fleet of dirt-hauling dump trucks.
There is construction going on behind the building where my Barnes & Noble store is located near Baltimore. The old parking lots where employees were assigned parking passes are now being dug up and getting hauled away to make room for (yes, really) a parking garage and a movie theater complex.
What does this have to do with my childhood centuries ago? Well...
When I was about 3 years old my parents and I lived in what may have been referred to as Army Surplus Housing or something like that. (I was 3 and I don't remember for sure what they were called) During the final months we lived there the old buildings behind the houses were being demolished. I remember seeing dump trucks hauling away earth and debris on a regular basis. It was fascinating to my young self, so much so that when our family stopped at a five and dime store to buy some things I noticed a display of metal toy trucks and asked Dad to buy me one. Give a kid of the Fifties a metal toy truck and some dirt to play in and you've got one happy child.
Those were days of pajamas, Romper Room, chocolate milk and teddy bears. I remember watching for the milkman's Cloverland truck to stop in front of our house to deliver the bottles of fresh milk several times a week. I remember looking at my Little Golden Books, one about Bambi, one was a story about a kitten that climbed a wall, and one was a story of Sleeping Beauty (Disney version). I was fascinated with the friends of Sleeping Beauty who could fly and do magic. For some reason no toy in my toybox would hoist ME aloft. It was frustrating and disappointing.
Imagination took wing much more easily in those days. A child does not give himself permission to dream, to fly, to believe the impossible. He sees joy and light everywhere he looks and he is happy.
The dump trucks brought back 3 year old Curt today. I want to dream, to fly, to hope, to laugh like he did. Like I did.
I want to play in the dirt again. It's gonna be great!