(May 19, 2013) Of the countless hours spent in my grandparent’s huge back yard (or the “back 40” as Pappaw called it) running, biking, and corn stalk fighting, I think I logged the most time in “Old Blue.”
“Old Blue” was Pappaw’s 1954 Chevrolet pickup. He drove it into the 1990’s until a stroke prevented him from working the heavy clutch and the “three on the tree.” It was nearly original from bumper to bumper and I’d jump up in the grey lined cab and pretend drive all over the city or “ride” like a Chicago gangster on the running boards, taking out the bad guys with my toy pistol (it was a less civilized time).
Eventually, my antique playground became my classroom as I learned how to drive in the parking lot of a local ball field. Pappaw taught me the delicate balancing act of releasing the clutch while pressing the accelerator. He showed me the old method of “double clutching” and how I could skip from first to third in just the right conditions and speed. The only AC in that old truck was the cranked down windows and a vent on the hood and with a dead radio and a lack of turn signals (I had to learn the old hand signal method); no power steering and brakes, it was anything but easy. It was old and uncomfortable and solid and true, and I loved it and I find it amazing of the many things that have become antique as well.
Like a free minute of silence…
Which is about as rare these now as an albino alligator. Think about the last time you had a moment without an alarm, alert, a text message, sending an IM, or tagging a post. Silence is out-of-style, dated, and totally uncomfortable. Unexpected waits or missed appointments were once an opportunity to exhale, a second to sit and think or pray—a pause, a breath—but now all those extra moments are filled with status updates and tweets.
Where I take the kids camping in Tennessee, we are close to the city, but in just the right spot for a dead zone. I mean, no signal whatsoever. Although, we are just a few minutes from “civilization, “ you’d think we wandered into Timbuktu. It’s hard at first because we’re accustomed to filling every free second with a little tapping on the phone (“Like” if you’re Bored in God’s country. LOL.). Nevertheless, between the campfires, hiking, and storytelling over smores, it’s no time before the buzzes and beeps aren’t missed and we grow close once again. By the end of the trip, the kids comment that one of their favorite things was just getting away from the “noise.”
Like the family do-it-yourself project…
While the howling spring winds rustled the trees, the branches creaked and moaned and one finally gave way to the pressure, walloping across my deck. Thankfully, no damage was done, but the “great outdoors” was right outside mine. At sunrise, I told my three teenage boys to not make plans for Saturday. They groaned and moaned for it interrupted an important itinerary. Some would ask why I wouldn’t just hire someone, everybody else does so they can make the litany of practices, workouts, and parties and play dates? But that wasn’t the way I was raised. My dad believed that a job wasn’t done right unless you did it yourself and I was his official assistant. So rarely a Saturday passed when I didn’t help him on repairing, cutting, tightening, or installing. If it wasn’t jobs at home, we were at my grandparents shucking corn, digging potatoes, shelling peas, or snapping beans with my aunts, uncles, and cousins. It was completely uncomfortable and old fashioned, but our families did it together, and I learned the value of hard work and a ton of little tricks of trade.
I could go on and on, but then I’d just be preachin’ and the quiet moment you’ve taken will just start to get loud again. So, step away from the computer, turn off the ringer, keep the kids at home for a bit, and enjoy a little much needed, out-of-date time together. It may be a bit old fashioned, but old isn’t always so bad.
By Blue Ribbon News special contributor Scott Gill of Rockwall. He’s a teacher, coach and author of the young adult adventure novel, Goliath Catfish. His writings have appeared in Dallas Child, Teachers of Vision and Chicken Soup for the Soul.
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