Sometimes I long for the days of my youth, in a small neighborhood, nestled in the heart of the countryside, things were much simpler then. The days were spent outside, running and playing in the fields, riding bikes, climbing trees, make believing and hanging out. There were no smartphones or tablets and the internet wasn’t even available outside of select government facilities. Instead, we played with sticks and rocks, went fishing, left our houses early in the morning and rarely came home before dark.

Back in those days, my parents both worked as did almost all the other parents in our neighborhood. Us kids were left at home, when not in school, with the eldest being in charge. We didn’t sit around in our pjs and play video games, we didn’t watch endless hours of YouTube and we certainly didn’t “DoorDash” food straight to our house. During the winter, we went sledding on the backroads behind the Phillip’s farm, ice skating on the pond that used to be below Stable Craft Brewing, built campfires and cooked our own dinner while seeing how long we could stay out in the cold. During the summer, we explored every field, wooded area and backroad we could find but mostly, we went to the pool.

We walked, roller skated, biked and one time, we even drove a riding mower with a trailer. I honestly believe that walking was faster than the mower, it took FOREVER and we had to leave early to make sure we got it back home before our parents got there. The pool was the place to be, we got there at opening and stayed until closing virtually all summer. Back then, the pool had an arcade room where the concession area is located now. All the concessions were prepared in the office and there was a split door between the office and the arcade. We saved every quarter we could get and spent them all at the pool between 5 cent freeze pops, quarter drinks and the arcade. We’d get drinks and take off to the campground for a while to get out of the sun. We even camped out at the campground a few times.

We never realized how good we had it, times were different then. The roads were safe, our parents didn’t worry about us getting lost or abducted, everyone looked out for everyone else. On more than one occasion we stopped at a random person’s house and asked to use their hose to cool off and rehydrate. If we found the right house, we would get sandwiches and cookies too! I couldn’t imagine anything like that happening now, heck, I’d be afraid to approach a random person’s house even as an adult these days.

I wish kids today knew what that kind of freedom and responsibility was like. We were in control of ourselves and sure we made mistakes, but we learned from them. I learned that one person can hold onto an electric fence with only a light shock but if you grabbed your brother’s arm, you increased the amount of ground and doubled the current drawn through you. We got hurt, we bandaged our own wounds, we got in trouble and dealt with the consequences, we learned survival and communication skills in the wild during real life experiences. There is no substitute for this kind of learning, no safety net, no reset button, no adult to handle things, just you, your circumstances and your wits.

It’s funny the things you remember from your youth, everyone has stories and people that made impressions but it’s the really personal things that mean the most. The ones I’m talking about might not mean anything to anyone else in the world. Like smells for example, I can still remember what my great grandmother’s giant cookies she made for me every Halloween smelled like. The smell of my grandmother’s cast iron cornbread, the smell of my grandfather’s wood shop or his chicken coop or his pipe or even his old spice cologne. The sound of my grandfather’s laugh or my grandmother humming along to Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers singing Islands in the Stream. The taste of my aunt’s yams with marshmallow on top at Christmas. Watching Smokey and the Bandit on laser disc at my cousin’s house. The rush of jumping out of the rafters of the barn into the loose hay at my best friend’s farm. The sound of the porch swing where my great grandmother would sit and rock while snapping beans. I’m sure many people have similar memories, but these are very specific and special to me. I can tell you all about them and describe them in amazing detail, but you can never experience any of them for yourself.

I may have time traveled a little bit there and got lost in reminiscing. I think my point is that I find myself wishing for the simplicity of a time when life was slower and technology was not so all consuming. When good food, fresh air and outdoor play were enough to ensure you fell right to sleep as soon as you went to bed. Carefree, honest, minimalistic, humble times because happiness is not found in the chaos, it’s found in the calm. There are many things that have changed at Pine Bluff over the years but for me, the calm is still there and I welcome it every year like a dear friend.

I’ll leave you this time with a whimsical quote from Where the Sidewalk Ends by one my favorite authors when I was a child.

“If you are a dreamer, come in, If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar, A hope-er, a pray-er, a magic bean buyer... If you're a pretender, come sit by my fire, For we have some flax-golden tales to spin.
Come in! Come in!” ― Shel Silverstein

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Troy

VP - PINE BLUFF