This is a repost. I went looking for posts talking about luck and found this one. We had it good – those of us who were able to grow up without worry. We were lucky.
When I was a kid, I pretty much went where I wanted. My parents never asked and I never told. As long as I was home before dark, no one cared. I could have been dealing blackjack at a blind pig in downtown Detroit for all they knew.
Every kid I knew lived like that. We pedaled our bikes barefoot, jumped off them and let them fall on the gravel. At night, we washed our hands and watched the water make clean streaks on our filthy arms. Nothing smelled better than the wild and the sun on the backs of our hands.
We weren’t afraid and we weren’t careful. I don’t remember a single time of being afraid of an adult when I was a child unless it was of my father’s deep preoccupation with the welfare of his Ben Franklin Store. Adults to me were neither here nor there…
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