In a couple of days, I’ll be 75 – not old enough to get the Boston Post Cane as a symbol of my longevity, but old enough to be asked about what my childhood was like. I’m becoming history, I guess.

Some years ago, the grade school I attended from ages 5-9 closed in the name of Progress and Consolidation. A special closing celebration was held. Former pupils (we weren’t called students until high school) attended. A music teacher wrote a song and titled it with the derogatory nickname we children had only whispered at recess. Dozens of “alumni” attended, and it was great fun.

I was asked to visit a third-grade classroom. The children wanted to ask questions. I was anxious, as the age difference between these third-graders and me was like light years. However, I was put at ease when I saw familiar construction paper cutouts on the wall and jars of monarch butterfly cocoons on the windowsill. Their questions were predictable – but not all of them. Several asked what my generation did for fun in school. Jumping rope, sliding, hopscotch and Red Rover haven’t changed much. Explaining that we existed happily without television, videos, the mall, McDonald’s – that was when I began to feel alien.

The last question was, “What happened when you were bad?” I’m not sure what they expected or had been told, but they acted a little disappointed when I told them we had to stand in the corner and face to the wall, or clap erasers (to get chalk dust out) or, in extreme cases, sit in the dark of a small closet. Sometimes we’d get extra homework. I had to explain that one, too.

Many of these kids have probably graduated from college by now and soon enough will be answering questions of their own. They can explain texting and iPhones, Kindles and global warming.

Memories abound after seven decades. Just the other day I observed several self-proclaimed political experts analyzing the presidential race and the state of the economy. The blame game was being played out on national television and as I turned the TV off, I was thinking back. Not so long ago, when Bill Clinton left office, things looked pretty good. I can hear people decrying his behavior and the “scandals” that almost defined his time in office. Given how things have changed, it’s almost unbelievable that the Congressional Budget Office reported budget surpluses of $69 billion in 1998, $126 billion in 1999, and $236 billion in 2000, during the last three years of Bill Clinton’s presidency. Just imagine. I could forgive a lot of bad behavior to see those figures today. Where did it go?

And where did old-fashioned summer go? I recall the hot, sweltering days of August, and school shopping used to lead into more hot, sweltering days at the Cumberland Fair. Schools in my town used to close one day, as I remember, so kids could go to the fair – there were dozens involved with 4-H and raising critters for auction was part of an agriculturally focused town. An agriculture course was taught in high school, along with home economics (we could use that today).

This year’s typical August week treated us to a couple of very humid days, a half day of drenching and pelting rain followed by more humidity.

The older we get, the more things change – except for politician’s promises. They never change.

Kay Soldier welcomes reader ideas for column topics of interest to seniors. She can be reached by email at kso48@aol.com, or write to 114 Tandberg Trail, Windham, ME 04062.

Copy the Story Link