To the best of my memory… the house was technically three stories tall. There was The main door to the house, that connected the living room and dining room, and then the family room, laundry room and craft area was a sub floor down from that. The staircase was right in the middle of the house, and led you to the second floor where my room and my parents rooms were. You then took the second staircase up to the third floor where my brothers room and my dads office were located. Damn I loved that house.
The basement was a whole other story to tell. Dark, smelled weird, and that overall creepy feeling to it that haunted your dreams as a child. There was even this hole in the basement wall that led to another crawl space that seemed to go deep in to the heart of darkness. The depths of darkness to where you’d never return. For a short while the goal was to see how far back you could get before the fear took over you and you went crawling back in sheer terror towards the entrance way. The house was truly one of those 1990 TV sitcom kinda houses. I loved it.
Though we moved all the way to the opposite side of the country when I was five; I still fondly look back to those days and all the adventures I had in that gigantic house. Back then there was a lot of coloring books, hot wheels cars, and plastic army men, (That toy was an instant favorite). We built lego guns, and had these green army plastic helmets that we would wear. Multiple battles fighting invisible enemies, as the backyard picnic table was our classic tank and foxhole depending on the mission. Our rank structure was private, sergeant, captain, and finally general. For those of you familiar with military rank, we had a steep incline in our promotion capabilities back then. But when you’re 4 and 6 years old, you really didn’t know any better.
The arts and crafts area was always filled with moms projects. As a young kid you learned quickly that the hot glue gun is actually “hot”, and knowing mom and her projects it was more than likely always on. There was the sowing machine, and cross stitching items, then came the painting supplies and so on and so on.
Back then one of my favorite things to do was go in to the backyard, and on the East side of the yard was an old sandbox that had a large bench style lip to it. I use to lay on my back and just watch the clouds float by. It was a paradise to me back then. Lush green grass, a cool summer breeze blowing across my face… and a bright blue sky with soft billowing clouds drifting over head. I still wish I could go back to those days.
We always seemed to be at Church though as well. Dad was always filling bookshelves full with his latest collection of books, bibles, and other types of Christian media. Back then he had a larger staff to assist him, but as we continued on throughout our lives Dads’ staff got smaller and smaller, but the constant need for more work needing to be done got larger and larger. As the turn of the century came about a whole new wave of technology flowed with it. We no longer had cassette tapes with our favorite mix’s to share with friends. We then had CD’s and portable walkman’s and CD players with headphones.
Our old 8 in floppy disk were replaced with hard floppy disks, and then CD’s as well. Dad insisted I learn to play the trumpet, then the piano, and sing in church. That part of life wasn’t all to enjoyable. The drum set in my teen years did the trick though. 😉
In addition to all that we had the standard plays and skits at church. Our acting skills never materialized in to Academy Award performances. But we had to work hard at our memorization and use our creativity.
Though I hated reading at the time, there were a few books that caught my attention. The Sugar Creek gang was blessed off by my parents because it was a Christian author. I thought it was quite ironic that I couldn’t watch Ninja Turtles because they were violent, yet I was able to read a book series that constantly talked about kids getting in fist fights with other kids, and made the Scooby Squad look like The Girl Scouts. Then there was Choose Your Own Adventure, and finally the Left Behind Teen Series. I was hooked on those, and read them so fast that my parents finally stopped buying them for me because I read them in the same day.
My older brother was the more athletic one of the two of us. But, back then we were both terrible. However, we were in that competitive stage where we were playing basketball in the summer heat of California Desert. Our feet burned from the bottom of our soles melting on the hot pavement, and every 10 minutes or so we ran over to the garden hose, grabbed a drink and kept playing. Jordan with the fade away jumper for the win! *Swoosh.
I would later get a camera, and loved taking photos with it, but never had the confidence to do anything with it. That is until much later in life. In my teen years is when I found the joy in computers and video games like many other children, but my roots weren’t founded in them. My roots were founded in the fields surrounding the house we lived in on Hidalgo St. Where I was constantly off on a distant alien planet exploring, out in combat fighting off an evil enemy force, or defending the castle from invaders of the realm!
Arts, Crafts, Music, Reading, Writing, Playing Outside, Lego’s, GI Joe action figures…
Having an imagination and learning to be creative were all infused in my character from the very beginning. It was just yesterday were I was at work putting together handbooks for my fellow military members when I was mentally transported back in time, and I was once again at church helping mom and dad fold bulletins, or fold our mass mail newsletters for everyone. I had been prepared ever since my childhood for this moment, “I thought to myself”.
I couldn’t help but ponder the thought regarding the Renaissance Man… The Jack of all Trades… the Entrepreneur…. How often do we see ourselves just giving in to the norm of letting our kids and children vegetable out to video games and technology. They are consumed by being shown someone else story instead of adventuring outside to create their own. They watch a “book” or “story” being told to them before they ever sit down to read, or even write their own story. Do we teach our kids to cook early on? To sow and stitch… to carve a piece of wood? As I think back on my early life and childhood; I can’t help but think if we are encouraging our children to still have that childhood wonder and curiosity. Are we raising children that will follow whatever path they are told to follow, or will they blaze a trail of their own? Will we raise a generation of followers in the crowd, or will we raise Renaissance Children who always seek the mountain peaks of wonder.
Leaderistic 