Ice Cream Trucks...

Sitting on my mother's patio the other day, draggin on a cig, watching the pug move her dish around to get the last little nibblets of her dinner, I heard an Ice Cream Truck. I didnt even know they were still around! As I sat there listening to the awful twang of the broken down melody, flashes of my childhood filled my mind.
The ice cream truck was a big deal here in my neighborhood. When I grew up here, the block was filled with children - all of us around the same age. We'd play until the street lights came on. We played baseball in the street, built forts in the Orange Grove (Before it was torn down for condos), we hiked to a place in there we liked to call "Skull Rock" (a random rock formation in the orange grove that looked like a skull face), we played hide and go seek, we played and we played and we fought and we laughed and we were kids. When the sound of the ice cream truck would fill the air - whatever we were doing we'd stop - bolt for our houses - blast in the door screaming for said parent to give us a quarter or two for the ice cream man. If we hadn't been little assholes that day we'd get our change. We'd then bolt back out the house and stumble over each other to get to the ice cream man. Big sticks, ice cream sandwiches, candy, toys - trying to decide which to get was the biggest decision we'd have to make that day. After about 20 minutes of about 10-15 kids making there purchases we'd all sit around and eat our goodies - multiple colors of sugar coated whatever covering our faces. Then back to play.
This made me miss childhood so much. Do you remember when you were a kid? Everything was so easy. For me anyway I miss the time before I turned 12. 12 was my turning point. The year I lost my innocence. The year I started growing up. The year I started realizing what reality had in store. But before that. I miss it. I miss it so much. No job worries, no responsibilities. Just fun. We all played together - no races, religions, judgements. We'd scrape our knees and mom would pour bactine on it and blow away the pain. We liked school - there was always something new. We colored. We ran. We'd lay on the warm grass and stare up at the sky pointing out animals in the puffy clouds. We had slip & slides in the summer. My brother and would climb on the roof. We'd do flips and stunts on the playgrounds at the parks. We founds bugs and made little homes for them and would horrify our parents when they'd find them. We played with our pets - they were one of us you know. We had friends over and we'd play with barbies or strawberry shortcakes or She-Ra's or my little ponies. My brother and I would ride our bmx bikes and learned tricks. We skated. We had big wheels. On the 4th of July's we'd have a neighborhood BBQ with fireworks and food and everyone together. My brother and I would stand on our lawn holding our ears when the fireworks were being shot off. Christmas time the neighbors would exchange cookies and cakes and goodies. My one neighbor would always give us homemade tamales. We climbed tress. I helped my dad when he'd work on the yard. We were kids.
It yanked at my heart strings a bit. All these memories flooding back then realizing I'm at a point in my life I never thought I'd be at. I did get tamales at Xmas. God love them, but thats it. No more kids, no more playing. The condos loom over and complain if people are too loud. No more orange grove - they keep building more over it. Most of my neighborhood playmates are now married with children of thier own. Some happy and successfull some struggling like I am. Its hard to be back home. Its hard to have given up my independance. Its hard to have a very uncertain future. I still have my good days and bad days. To Mr. Anonoymous - I do volunteer and I do know how fortunate I am, I'll never take for granted the fact that I have a wonderful mother and a place to go. But still - its hard. I'm turning 33 next month. I miss being a kid. Oh how I miss being a kid!