Monday, April 15, 2013
Modest Little Poem About Growing Up in the 1950's
Before the Invention of Safety
I was a kid before the invention of safety.
Before seatbelts, helmets, and warning labels.
An era when we stuffed Baby Jimmy
On the back window ledge of the car on the trip to Gramma’s,
And rode Kevin on the handlebars to Mudville.
Of course there were some minor disasters.
And we can thank only our Guardian Angels
For not falling through the ice on Lake Erie
Or slipping down the steep shale cliffs over Euclid Creek.
Yes, there were broken arms, lots of stitches, some concussions.
And there were some serious errors in our knowledge:
It didn't help to be brought up in a blue haze of cigarette smoke,
To fool with vials of mercury Dad brought home from the shop,
To play with asbestos as if it were harmless snow—
But in general we did all right. We survived and even thrived
Before the invention of safety.
April 5, 2013