Just Kidding

In the neighborhood where I grew up, you're almost as likely to see a raccoon as a child these days. Every once in a while, you'll catch a glimpse of a kid in that brief moment between house and SUV, but it's a rare event to see one linger outdoors. They're always dressed in a clean, stylish outfit, and you will never witness a runny nose or a skinned knee. Any "playing" seems to occur indoors or maybe at the country club.

It wasn't always this way.

My parents split up when I was three, and my mother went to work and, later, to grad school. My grandmother lived nearby and was frequently around, but the only time my sister and I had a babysitter was when our mom went out in the evening, which wasn't very often.

After school and all summer long, we were pretty much free to do what we wanted, which was usually something outdoors.* Some parents were a little more protective - two of our friends weren't allowed to cross Connecticut Avenue, which put the creek off limits (so sad!) - but for the most part, people seemed to believe their kids could have fun unsupervised without getting into serious trouble.

I don't know how old I was the first time I ventured downtown by myself, but I flew to L.A. unaccompanied the summer I was six and to Europe when I was about 13. Somewhere in there, I took my first solo cab ride in New York. (Didn't know about tipping, which I still feel guilty about.)

It wasn't that we were oblivious to the world's dangers. I was an imaginative child - I read incessantly and watched after-school specials - and I knew there were child molesters and drug pushers around. (Beware the windowless van!) I guess the paranoia threshold was just a lot higher back then. Our parents put their faith in common sense, gave us plenty of rope, and most of us managed not to get hanged.

It was an article that got this old fart a-ruminatin'. I found it quite interesting; in fact, I wrote the author to express solidarity. Her blog is here.

* My sister and I were the only ones summoned for dinner with a cowbell. (It worked - you could hear it from anywhere.)