Columnist John Moore\u2019s mother sent him one place often when he was a child. Outside. Courtesy John Moore<\/p>\n
Red Rover. Sandlot baseball. Hide-and-seek. Cowboys and Indians.<\/p>\n
\u00a0The latter today is likely lacking political correctness, but it shares with the others a commonality. All were games of yesterday\u2019s youth.<\/p>\n
\u00a0And they were outside games of that generation.<\/p>\n
\u00a0In reading a recent biography of Teddy Roosevelt, the description of his battle with asthma reminded me of what kids did for most of the early history of our country. We went outside and played.<\/p>\n
\u00a0Teddy (I hope he wouldn\u2019t mind me calling him that) endured many alleged treatments for his breathing difficulties. Cigar smoking and strong, black coffee were two of them. But one other treatment gave the future president his love and passion for the beautiful parts of our country that he made national parks.<\/p>\n
\u00a0The outdoors.<\/p>\n
\u00a0By all accounts I\u2019ve encountered, Theodore Roosevelt became healthy in spite of his illnesses. His doctor prescribed going outside. And his father encouraged it.<\/p>\n
\u00a0Such was the case with all mothers I encountered when I was growing up in Ashdown, Arkansas. If I had friends over, unless the sky was dropping hail bigger than a Buick, we went outside to play.<\/p>\n
\u00a0The only rule was that we had to be back in the house by supper, or when the streetlights came on. Whichever came first.<\/p>\n
\u00a0It was no different if I visited a buddy\u2019s house. Whether I was at Doug\u2019s, Scotty\u2019s, Steve\u2019s, or Jeff\u2019s, their moms also tossed us out into the world.<\/p>\n
\u00a0I had no idea how lucky I was at the time, but the red brick house in the neighborhood where we lived on Beech Street was Grand Central Station. The reason, hindsight, was that we had the biggest yard.<\/p>\n
\u00a0We could play baseball, cops and robbers, Cowboys and Indians, or Red Rover. All were inspired by movies or TV shows we watched, and all caused us to pick sides.<\/p>\n
\u00a0I never felt sorry for the robbers, so I didn\u2019t want to be one when it came time to choose sides, but I always felt sorry for the Native Americans. My great grandmother was Cherokee, so I always picked being an Indian. And I insisted that the cowboys had to lose an equal number of times.<\/p>\n
\u00a0As we grew older, our outside interests changed.<\/p>\n
\u00a0What we selected to do was most often predicated on where we were. Jeff lived in Allene, a small, unincorporated community that looked as if someone removed a small area of forest and plopped a few houses inside. That\u2019s basically what it was.<\/p>\n
\u00a0The most exciting thing to do was to ignore the rule of being back by supper or when the streetlights came on, and sneak out to smoke cigarettes and ring the old school bell.<\/p>\n
\u00a0Jeff and I liked to live life on the edge.<\/p>\n
\u00a0Doug\u2019s parents had a farm with a pond. One summer we decided we wanted to camp by the pond and cook the fish we caught. When we caught no fish and it got cold, we opted to go inside, eat chips, and watch the Midnight Special.<\/p>\n
\u00a0Scotty and Steve were musicians like me. Once we got word that some older boys\u2019 band was playing at the skating rink. We convinced our moms to drop us off there, but only after we\u2019d agreed to get some yard work done.<\/p>\n
\u00a0Once again, \u201cYou boys go outside.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0But we enjoyed being outside. Later, in high school, some of us played football, others baseball, and some tennis. Scotty, Steve, and I all made the tennis team. During the season, it wasn\u2019t unusual for us to go to the high school and play 10 sets of tennis.<\/p>\n
\u00a0A typical set of tennis is six games but can be up to 13. You do the math.<\/p>\n
\u00a0Outside used to be where kids went. And it felt natural.<\/p>\n
\u00a0When my parents moved us from Beech Street to Locust Street, there were a lot of woods behind our house. It felt a lot like Allene.<\/p>\n
\u00a0I\u2019d take my .410 shotgun and hunt squirrels back there. Sometimes, other kids would join me, but most often I\u2019d go alone.<\/p>\n
\u00a0The woods felt natural, which sounds silly to say, but it\u2019s true. I always felt as if I belonged in the woods.<\/p>\n
\u00a0Maybe that was a programmed throwback to when man lived and survived primarily in the wilderness. I felt it innately. Who knows, but I think parents also felt that when they were kids. Which might\u2019ve been why we were sent outside.<\/p>\n
\u00a0Or maybe it was to get us out from under our mothers\u2019 feet. Either way, it was good for both of us. Of that, I\u2019m sure.<\/p>\n
\u00a0And it\u2019s that kind of child\u2019s play that I think Teddy would still embrace.<\/p>\n
By John Moore, author, Puns for Groan People and Write of Passage: A Southerner\u2019s View of Then and Now Vol. 1 and 2, are available on his website TheCountryWriter.com, where you can also send him a message.<\/p>\n