My Childhood Summers

i truly do wish i was little was so beautiful by me in new york...and i couldnt help to drift back to a simpler time in my life...for those who are not from nyc and live in a more rural setting i will try my best to recapture some of what im about to say...i grew up in bensonhurst has and always did have a reputation for being a very tough italian house was on 18th avenue the heart of the neighborhood...i was an 80's baby and an early 90's youth...i still remember those summers so vividly..even the smell of the crisp air...not very rich myself and the rest of the neighborhood kids spent the day digging in the dirt with our grandmothers old spoons or meetig in the alley for the classic whiffle ball game...the sun would beat down on us all day and sometimes wed go to the roof of the bay 17 buildings to hangout..keep in mind these buildings were like five stories and here we are eight nine years old climbing firescapes...we didnt have video games or cell phones just our imaginations and the park not to far away which usually consisted of handball, racketball, basketball and watching the old italian men curse at eachother while playing bacchi ball..almost everyday would include two friends going back in the alley over an argument and kicking the **** out of eachother untill "it was done"...when it was done it was done jumping no weapons no ill get you later and usually resulted in the two becoming best friends...and man was in in many of those fight...the sun we be just beginning to set, knees bloddy and battered from climbing trees and hopping fences..yeah we were always ni other peoples would here your name in the distance..just a shout...this was the dinner bell..after dinner with the family..a familiar tune would play sending us street kids into a frenzy.."yo ma!!! got money its the ice cream man"..his name was kaptain kool..and he sold everything from snow cones to fire works..yeah they still let us play with fire works then..i almost blew my ******* hand off twice...on my block we had a guy who sold the fireworks out of his garage..the whole block would be out boom boxes and bottle rocket fights...block busters were big and us kids wed try to blow up whatever we could..the cops didnt care it was our block...and the soft summer nights were the older teens would be drinking beers and playing cards in our concrete yards under red green and yellow owl lights, while us kids were sneaking cigarettes and sips of beer...i can still hear george michaels im never gonna dance again playing on the boom box...that breeze, those sounds, those people..are why i wish i was little again
joecas46 joecas46
31-35, M
1 Response May 12, 2012

That was a really nice story.