(St.Phillip's Lutheran Church confirmation class - June 1972)

 

There are places I remember
All my life, though some have changed…

 

 

If there was ever a time to take a step back - in time, that is - and gain some much needed perspective, now would seem as good a time as any.

 

So put the politics, negative news (fake or otherwise) and daily corona virus updates aside for a few moments and take a stroll with me through my old neighbourhood while I wax nostalgic.

 

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Our first stop is the playground behind Wilson Avenue school in Kitchener - a place where my childhood friends and I used to play the super-simple game of 500.

 

Do kids today even know what this game is?

 

All you needed was one person with a ball and bat and an unspecified number of fielders with or without gloves. The scoring system (100 points for catching a fly ball; 50 for snagging a one-hopper; 25 for a roller) was easy to remember. First person to reach 500 took over as batter and the game started anew.

 

Guys and gals. No experience necessary. Socio-economic background irrelevant. Parents - nowhere in sight.

 

Our only concern was curfew (usually when the street lights came on) and trying to avoid taking one off the shin bone.

 

It's the same playground we played pick-up soccer on; traded hockey, baseball and Batman cards on; and dug holes in the ground for games of marbles (remember what a "beaut" was?) or chestnuts (the key was to soak them in water so they wouldn't crack as easily when your rivals rained down on yours with full force - assuming their white string had an adequate knot).

 

On the tarmac below, we played "flips" (closest to the wall wins) with those aforementioned cards in the warm weather and road hockey in the cold.

 

Some forever, not for better
Some have gone and some remain…

 

I remember Saturdays when our Eighth Avenue buddies would play from sun-up to sundown. We'd pop home for a quick bowl of tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich sometime around noon (no set schedule) and then get right back at it.

 

No helmets. No referees. No registration forms.

 

No trophies or trinkets. No adult supervision. No worries.

 

Behind Wilson school, the church I grew up in - St. Phillip's Lutheran - is where, in addition to the Ten Commandments and the Golden Rule, I learned how to tie a knot and do good deeds at Cub scouts on Wednesdays; how to dance at youth group on Saturdays; and how to sit up straight and sing on Sundays.

 

It's also where I first played the game of Spin The Bottle.

 

Forgive me, Pastor Stewart - may he rest in peace.

 

All these places have their moments
With lovers and friends I still can recall…

 

As we head up Eighth Avenue itself, different parts bring back different memories.

 

The games of Hide 'N Seek or Prisoner's Base were near our home while tackle football (with no equipment) was behind the Church of Nazerene which is no longer there.

 

Games of wiffleball in the Groh family's fenced-in backyard where you might launch a dinger if you caught one just right with your broken hockey stick bat.

 

No coaches. No spectators. No video recordings.

 

No stats. No liability issues. No problem.

 

This is the neighbourhood where I learned how to throw a frisbee, climb a tree, kick the can and "walk the dog" with my yo-yo.

 

It's where I flew my first kite, rode my first bike, pinged my first pong and continuously failed to do a proper cartwheel despite the best teaching efforts of my friend and next door neighbour Rose.

 

May she also rest in peace.

 

It's where I did cannonballs close enough to the cute lifeguard at Wilson pool that she was bound to notice me, right? And she'd be so impressed by the height of my splash that she was bound to like me, right?

 

Was I wrong about this? Is this why I didn't have a girlfriend until late in grade 11?

 

But I digress…

 

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Now that our imaginary stroll is over, feel free to return to the breaking and often bleak news of the day as well as your well-founded worries about tomorrow.

 

As for me, I'm off to bed with a stack of Archie comics and hopefully a restful night's sleep like I had the other day.

 

That was the night I had this beautiful dream about hanging with my childhood friends once again and all of us enjoying a simple game of 500.

 

Some are dead and some are living…
In my life, I've loved them all.

                         (The Beatles - In My Life)