"Life Before Xbox"

Wii, Xbox and PlayStation.

Ask any young person in 2011 what these things are. They know. They know all too well.

"Virtual" games have virtually replaced the real thing. It began with a device called an Atari and a game called "Pac-Man." Next there was "Mario Brothers" and "Donkey Kong," which came with the insidious, yet infectious, music that became so recognizable.

Technology enables children of today to "play" without ever leaving the living room or the TV screen. Tennis, golf, baseball, martial arts, race car driving, and a closet full of other games and amusements are available. Young females can even buy, or download, a game that allows them to dress and mother a "SimBaby" (simulated/virtual infant).

Amazing!

Thankfully, these games, as well as the host controller units they must have in order to operate, only cost a small fortune. If they were very expensive at all, parents might have to go out and get a third mortgage or home equity line, instead of just two.

At the risk of sounding crotchety and/or far too nostalgic, this writer is thankful to have grown up in a time and place when games were real (versus "virtual"). Games were also inexpensive. And, they were tied more to a kid's imagination than to some highly-paid, computer geek, "gamer" who sits and stares at a virtual screen all day long.

The list of child games from yesteryear is "virtually" endless. It would include: Jacks, Marbles, Straws, Spoons, Hide and Go Seek, Red Rover, Tag, Duck-Duck-Goose, Leap Frog, Kick the Can, Mother-May I?, Simon Says, Musical Chairs, I Spy, Red Light-Green Light, Tick-Tack-Toe, Hop Scotch, Rock-Paper-Scissors, Thumb Wrestling, Slap, Cowboys and Indians, and House.

These games rarely cost anyone anything, and were instantly available. The only thing required for most was the mere suggesttion of, "Let's play ____________." If toys or other items were involved, they were usually cheap to buy, or already part of the private stash of one of the neighborhood families.

For instance, a high-quality fort could easily be made with old boards or planks, cardboard boxes, a few chairs, and one of Mama's discarded sheets or tablecloths. Props of all kinds were an outgrowth of the imagination.

Early in this writer's childhood, a neighborhood family whose property backed-up to ours also had a boy of similar age. The only part of his name that remains in the memory today are his initials, "R.L." He was no more intelligent than the rest of the neighborhood boys, but R.L.'s imagination ran on the Autobahn in terms of being ahead of his time.

One of every young boy's favorite television shows was, "Sky King." This was a show about a World War II aviator turned Arizona rancher who flew his Cessna aircraft into all sorts of high adventure. Every young lad wanted to be "Sky King."

The popular way to emulate the show's flight scenes was to extend the arms out from one's side, weave up and down and from from side to side, while making sounds of a plane engine with one's mouth.

R.L. took this a step further.

He somehow secured an old wicker bottom dining chair from his mother. It was a ladder back design. R.L. took a hammer and broke out enough slats in the ladder back to be able to slide himself down through the chair back. He would lay the chair on the ground, step into the area where the slats had been, and pull the chair up around his waist. This way, the wicker seat was aginst his chest, with the legs jutting out in front of him. In his imagination, he was now in the cockpit of his own Cessna. As he walked along, he would hold that chair up high around his chest and pretend to be Sky King - flying his own "plane." No expensive gaming system needed.

One of the other neighborhood boys loved to watch, "The Lone Ranger." After the show was over each week, with no horse available, the young wannabe cowboy got his dad to tie a rope around a large, low-hanging tree limb. It was tied in a fashion that resembled a bridle on a horse's neck. An old pillow was borrowed from his mother for a "saddle." As a result, instant horse!

Other games required their own unique accessories. A large silk scarf made a perfect cape for playing Superman. The cape doubled as a parachute, when the intent was to imitate another show from the time called, "Ripcord." In that show, skydivers were the action figures and heroes. In playing, "Ripcord," scarf-clad neighborhood boys "parachuted" the short distance to the ground from the roof of a small garage. No sky-diving plane or expensive lessons were needed.

Life before Xbox also allowed children to invent, "Imaginary Friends." When no real playmates were around, "virtual" ones could be conjured up at a moment's notice. These imaginary human beings were no High-Definition, 3-D, "Avatars." They were the objects of a child's endless imagination.

Life before Xbox was lived outdoors. Children stayed outside most of the long, summer days of their youth. The only trips indoors were to eat, visit the bathroom, do some sort of dreaded household chore, or escape the danger of a passing thunderstorm. When mothers did call their children indoors, it was difficult to get them to comply. "Can't we stay out just a little while longer?" was the customary plea.

Even at night, things like catching lightning bugs, or telling ghost stories while "camping out," kept children out of the house. Mothers would sometimes donate an old quilt or sheet, that was draped over the clothesline (there were no clothes dryers other than the sun). This became a tent. Or, if the Dad of the family had been extra industrious, there was a tree house somewhere in the neighborhood where kids congregated until just before bedtime.

It seems that these practices have now been reversed with the coming of the so-called, "virtual age."

Life before Xbox did involve the use of a television, but for watching cartoons and great family shows like, "The Andy Griffith Show," "Mr. Ed," and "My Favorite Martian." With only three channels and no remote control, black and white television was no match for today's monster-sized, flat screen, HD, cable/satellite-fed, marvels. However, when those incomparable shows from that era came on, even on that small, black and white screen, children became mezmorized - lying motionless for a solid half-hour, on the floor, directly in front of the set. It was the only time during the day when they were still.

Life before Xbox had at least one other priceless feature. Storytelling.

The master of storytelling was, and shall always be, Andy Griffith. His creative spinning of a yarn for the boys of Mayberry was a highlight of that classic show. Whether they were ghost stories by a campfire, or the re-telling of an event like Paul Revere's historic ride, a gifted storyteller like Mr. Griffith could do more with a child's imagination than any electronic, cyber game ever will.

For a while during this writer's childhood, Riverside had its own storyteller. His name was Cliff Herrin.

Mr. Herrin was the scout master for Boy Scout Troop 467, which met in one of the buildings on the property of the Chattahoochee First Baptist Church. The Herrins lived across the street from this writer's family on Forrest Avenue. He had two boys of his own, and was forever hosting impromptu get-togethers in their family's yard for all the neighborhood kids. It was around a campfire in his yard that the classic, ghostly tale of the, "Golden Arm," was first heard by many of the youngsters in our community.

Mr. Herrin told the story like Andy Griffith would have. Displaying emotion, exaggerated facial expressions, and vocal inflection, he made the tale seem vividly real. He kept that circle of young folks glued to his every word and gesture. When the crowning line of the "Golden Arm" story finally came, the boys jumped and the girls shrieked. It was better than a movie!

Take that, Xbox!

Life before the High-Def age was a great thing. Every day was yet another exciting episode of discovery, creativity, and fun!

Thank you, Lord, for allowing so many of us to grow up during such a great time in history.

A time of...

Life before Xbox.


"Well I'll Be John Brown"

- David Decker
  March 10, 2011