Kids really don't give a rats about footprints. Oh sure, if the City's been in the neighborhood putting in new sidewalks, dang straight a kid wants very badly to put footprints in it, but, they're also aware that'd be trouble, right here in River City... nope, don't do it.
Mom, dad. They observe four coming to the alter... sometime later, two more beautiful little ones poking on mom's belly wanting out.... another year and a half, four big footprints in the sand... two little bitty ones, for awhile anyways.. then sometimes four again (Mom or dad is carrying Junior)... and sometime down the road, six appear again, jualah "No, you're too big, I'm tired, we're in a hurry, you too can walk on your own two feet."
Six can grow to eight, ten, twelve... and oft times along the way Gramps, or Granny, perhaps with tiny smirk offers "You do know what's causing that don't you?"
Kids then go to school... Curriculum Victor? Well... no.. and yes, I guess. A fun teacher, or maybe even one who hears "It's your turn for recess duty Shirley".. arranges a record player... a buncha chairs placed in a circle...one less chair than the total number of kids... music is played, the snotnoses Pavlov around the chairs per Teach's 'structions, the music is stopped unannounced.. the kids plop quickly into a chair. Next go round (when the music starts) there's one less set of footprints.. anudder chair is taken out... so on and so forth, until there only two kids to make footprints, one chair to plop on.. music stops.. Boom, Winner winner Chicken Sitter.
Life then, is a systematic play on "Musical chairs" fore'er and 'er, except, kinda vice versa.
Like, if there's eight footprints walking along... then, all of a sudden, on Monday thru Friday, there's only six... .(four little footprints, one medium), and Saturday/Sunday finds a differn't looking six (four little footprints and one set of big'ns), it's pretty obvious mom and dad are splitting up, Mom gets the kids thru the week... Dad on weekends. Sure sad, but that's footprints.
Many, many combinations come forth into the future. Half brothers/sisters, step brothers, sisters, step parents.. that, them.
Life, family reunions, Christmas, Ballpark bleachers, visits to relative's houses, relatives coming to our house to visit - sometimes, 'produce' a set less of footprints, meaning, leaving a sad looking, feeling, empty chair. As times goes on, kids start noticing this, yet, fun from the get go is at the top of life's list - and, oft times not enough attention is placed on all footprints. It's called "being a kid."
Impressions. In my lifetime, I prolly spent too much time analyzing footprints and impressions, thereby shortchanging curriculum, which leads to the end
"Your IRA is hella bigger than mine." Oh sure, there are those of the A or B ilk (Remember, I'm C+) that can and do juggle all three... quite well. Oh well, maybe I'm still "Being a kid." While I've never completely walked thru freshly poured concrete, I confess to leaving my initials, or mebbe even a full handprint.
I will never, ever forget the trip to Western Auto (I think it was!) for my very own Schwinn bicycle. It was approximately 8 or so years before Richie Havens opened Woodstock singing "FREEDOM", but, it was that for me.
Bike. Kid. No footprints, but, impressions galore. Tweren't no "hold my hand crossing the street"... "Dad, can I ride on your shoulders"... It was Me and You and a Dog named Boo.. .or, mosta the time, simply by myself, off and about, Big Chief People Watching, two eyeballs left to stop, hey, what's that sound, everybody look what's going down.............. and form my own opines. Easy to see, "that coach is mean".. "that kid really hustles".. "wowzer, he needs to push away from the dinner table a little sooner.".. "That coach was COOL, and his kids worked hard for him!" (TBC)
"That one guys is working his tail off digging, how come there's ten others (that would be 20 footprints) watching him work?"... "Wow, cop stopped that guy, wunner if he's a criminal, or, if he was simply speeding and mom and dad are gonna whack his booty?"
We observe fun, toil, sometimes the two together all at once... people in love.. people arguing.. .people relaxing... much. After awhile, buzzing around town, you can pretty much guess which oldster will giveya a dirty look (for nuttin) and which ones will smile, mebbe even buy'ya a Grape Nehi.
We put two and two together.. whether it's two pop bottles from under the bleachers to buy our own Grape Nehi......... or, go see coaches, watch how their players react, how hard they work based on the coach's leadership (or lack thereof).. ... we add all that crap up............... and (TBC)
Those impressions give us a nice sendoff into adulthood, where, we can be the one who jumps in and digs.. lazes back and watches... yells at those under us... praise those under us so they'll work harder... frown at moms who put their kid in the middle seat next to us on United.. or, mebbe we bring out work scrap paper and see if Junior in the middle seat has interest in Tic-Tac-Toe.
Victor, are you saying ALL OF THAT is a result of, when you first got freedom, rode your Schwinn.. .went out and about on your own.. it formed the way you take on life later? BINGO little man, which, by the way is a game we geezers play.. usually once a week for ten bucks, only to win $130 every seven years or so. "That ain't smart Mister!" Good observation from, what the hell kinda bike is that Sonny?"
I can, to this day, conjure up a list of twenty or so folks who back-in-the-day, made very wonderful impressions on me. As we ultimately jump off our Schwinns, we try to foller in them footsteps. I'm sure you can think back to who helped guide you along the way.. whether it was on that expressed purpose, or, you were simply observing their interaction with others.
This golf tournament I keep talking about. A buncha dudes, lifelong friends from our little town of Liberty. Fun and while-we-can being our main goal.. Yesterday, I had a nice visit with a young man (he actually ain't so young now).. but he was the guy a few years after I was out and about on my Schwinn... he did same. Please know, if you've been here a minute, you'll know this blog is usually about self deprecation, ne'er a pat on my own back. This kid, now an older dude like me, told me I was a mentor.. one he looked up to. Damn that felt good to hear. It was long, long ago. Along the way, I've faltered, struck out in more ways than one.. Had the 6.. then 4 footprints in marriage... Forgive me Father I am human hear me roar.. at least one stop along the way some dude thought I was an OK Joe.
Ahm Victor? Yes? You forgot curriculum. Tell me. Hell, Edward D. Jones locks their doors when they see me coming! I shoulda been a butcher but i was deathly afraida knives.
Life is fun. Life ain't perfect, neither are we. Footprints on a belly are the most beautiful footprints I've ever seen. Music can help in all the chairs we now see that sit empty.
I hope you remember your childhood as a wonderful formative time... and that the pitter patter of footprints, all ages, have brought you joy.
That's the way, uh huh uh huh, I like it.
Love, Victurd
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