childhood friends

My photographic theme the last months has been Our World as Interpeted through Fences.  Do we see through fences or is the fence part of what we see?

Walking by my old elementary school, I think about how much it has changed since I left it in June of 1980.  There are many more bungalows and the playground has been re-configured.  The handball court revives many memories.

Handball was always a fun game.  We of course played it with an inflatable rubber ball the size of a woman's volleyball.  It was one on one, one set was played and the winner went on to play the next person in line.  Simple and orderly as children's games should be.  There were times,when supersvision was (how do you say) not up to par, we would then play a game called Suicide.  Suicide involved everyone (usually about 12 boys) standing in the court while one boy threw a tennis ball at the wall.  The tennis ball would bounce back from the wall and someone would try to catch it.  Catching it meant you got to throw the ball.  There was a caveat involved, in its bounce back from the wall if the ball touched you and you did not catch it everyone was obligated to hurt you until you made it to safety by touching the wall.  There were so many ways to make someone drop the ball.  Conspiracies arose like the one where one child would stand in front of someone and without warning deflect the rebounding ball onto that someone.  The deflector would be able to reach safety since all the other kids would have focused their blows and energies on he who last touched the ball. 

Oh, the HUMANITY! 

When we were forced to, my friends and I would play Suicide.  We never admitted that we didn't like it; not out loud anyway.  But we did have a game we played when it was just us that was similar to Suicide.  It was called Tags Up.  It possessed the same rules except that the person who dropped the ball was merely tagged out.  No physical pain was involved in our game.  My friends and I were not tough kids.  We lived our lives pretty safely. 

Today the inventor of Tags Up turns 39.  I want thank him for all the fun times in our youth, he always knew how to turn bland times into fun times.  Happy Birthday and my best to you and your family!  Though it is rare we see each other, things like a handball court or a Mitsubishi Cordia ("MITSUBISHI CORDIA!") always bring you to mind. 

Childhood provides our 'a priori' experiences.  The rest of our lives we sort out our moments according to those of our early years.  I thank God for giving me such happy tags to organize my folders with.