posted on Mar, 20 2011 @ 08:56 PM
The one thing that grieves my heart to no end is watching my children grow up in California. You can actually see the veil of fantasy and wonder that
keeps them believing in Santa Claus and all things good and magical, slowly fade as the years of childhood slip into the past. As the wonder and
fascination with the world fades, cold reality seeps into the bubble I have placed them in, tearing down the walls I have spent so many years building
in an effort to protect them from the harsh reality of a cruel world. Ignorance is truly bliss?
Winter in New England is something that my children will most regrettably never experience. I grew up in New Hampshire and the memories I cherish
almost seem fabricated in comparison to the dreadful place I find my self now trying my best to raise my children. It is so disheartening to think how
horrible the world has become in such a short time.
17 cherry street concord N. H.~December,1978
Every morning after a bad weather storm I would wake up and run to the kitchen to listen to the local radio station. The local station would broadcast
school cancellations due to poor road conditions. My uncle Eddie would be at the stove cooking me oatmeal in his blue bathrobe and brown leather
slippers. I could usually tell whether or not there would be school by how bad our white birch tree?s were covered by the slow. If they were bent all
the way over from the weight of the heavy snow, and looked like large albino dinosaurs frozen in time, the chances are there was not going to be
school that day. And sure enough my scientific birch tree observation would usually come true. ?There will be no school in Rochester, Dover, Concord??
?Yes!? I would exclaim as I danced around the kitchen floor knowing full well I was in for a fun day of snow ball fights and snow sledding at the
sandpit with my friends. ?Your going to have to shovel the driveway and feed the wood stove before you go out and play Tommy?, my uncle would say. ?I
will uncle Eddie,? I would reply as I shoved the hot oat meal into my mouth as fast as I could, not wanting to miss out on a minute of fun with my
As I shoveled the drive way so my uncle could go to work, I would always do a quick surveillance of our property, making sure no trespassers? had left
there foot prints on my perfect white blanket that covered our yard. There was an unspoken rule among us kids that no one was allowed to walk across
each others yard messing up its beauty with unsightly blemishes. If there was in fact any footprints, like a detective, I would check and analyze the
footprints in order to determine the culprit which would no doubt incur my wrath.
After my chores where finished I would grab my red plastic sled and walk about a half mile through the woods to the sandpit. I would be kind of
nervous knowing full well that this was Big Foot Country. Though I never witnessed the great Sasquatch, I was positive I had seen his tracks and
scarred pine tree?s where the beast would sharpen his teeth. In my young impressionable mind, there was no doubt Big Foot existed in the dense New
Hampshire woods. I would leave fruit or cookies at a predetermined area as some sort as a peace offering, and talk to the him as I made my way to
sandpit with the unmistakable impression that he was out their watching me. The older kids had warned me that He was seen at the Merrimack river a
year earlier, dragging a small child behind. Did I believe such nonsense at that age? You bet I did?I believed in Sasquatch, Santa Claus the Easter
bunny, and I believed the world was a kind and wonderful place. A warm peace was always present within me and that the worse thing in life was at the
end of my Uncles Eddie?s belt or an unlikely run in with Big foot.
The point of this rather peculiar tidbit of childhood experience, is the incredible difference between my childhood and my children?s. My day?s where
full of hard work and hard play. I would spend the day miles away from home playing in the woods with my friends. My uncle had no reason to worry for
I would always be home unscathed by sundown. Nowadays? I wont let my children go past the mailbox! I have to instruct my children to trust no one, not
even their teachers or the police. It sickens me as I explain the disgusting nature of the evil men that would like nothing more to steal them away if
given a chance. In New Hampshire the neighbors? had the green light to whip my ass if I where to disrespect them or do something stupid within their
site. And trust me when I say that they exercised these rights on frequent occasion. The people from where I grew up treated and loved me as if I was
one of their own kids. I knew every person within a 2 mile radius on a first name basis and they all looked out for each others children. I would be
hard pressed to tell you the name of any of the A-holes in my neighborhood. Its just a different time and a different world disappointment and sadness
cannot accurately define the way I feel about mankind and the world in general. I cannot help but miss my youthful naivety. Ignorance is truly bliss.