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I wrote this the other night after re-reading R is For Rocket. Hope y'all like it.
Tonight I re-read, “R is for Rocket” by Ray Bradbury. It contains my most beloved piece of work he has ever done. For many people the story is “The Martian Chronicles”, Fahrenheit 451”, or perhaps “the Sound of Thunder”. But for me it’s the last short story in this book “The Sound of Summer Running”.
It’s a story about a kid trading in his heavy leather school shoes for a pair of sneakers. Specifically a pair of “Royal Crown Cream-Sponge Para Litefoot Tennis Shoes”.
First this echoes in me for when I was grade school and most of Junior High I couldn’t wear tennis shoes except for gym class. I had orthodics that didn’t work in regular shoes. I was always a bit jealous of everyone else wearing “cool shoes” while I was stuck with clunkers.
The other way this story touches me is it brings back memories of the part of my childhood spent in Milan, Michigan. On a dead end street with railroad tracks and a grain elevator at the open end. I was growing up enough then to now there was a bigger world, but not grown up enough to worry yet.
“The Sound of Summer Running” always makes me think of fresh mown grass. Thinking that I had found secret plans of a spy, when all it was the train schedule for the grain elevator. I also think about playing in the cornfield and believing aliens were involved when our garage door opened. When all it was the radio in the small planes overhead setting off the garage door opener.
I also think about that a trip to the library seemed magical then. Going through the entire children’s section and then getting special permission to read from the adult section.
The library was also one the first places I was allowed to go by myself on my bike. Venturing off our street past the railroad tracks seemed like quite an adventure. After a while I could ride all the way downtown to the Five and Dime so I could buy plastic soldiers and dinosaurs. They faced off against my GI Joes and Big Jim.
I had had finally traded in my green Schwinn starter bike for my cool gold fleck machine with the banana seat and the chopper handlebars. I thought I was so cool riding it around. Looking back at myself now I was a damn geek. And I have the pictures to prove it.
Its nice to have something brings all those memories. My summer imagined adventures, Tom Swift books, and of course the Three Investigators too! I miss being a kid sometimes.
Tonight I re-read, “R is for Rocket” by Ray Bradbury. It contains my most beloved piece of work he has ever done. For many people the story is “The Martian Chronicles”, Fahrenheit 451”, or perhaps “the Sound of Thunder”. But for me it’s the last short story in this book “The Sound of Summer Running”.
It’s a story about a kid trading in his heavy leather school shoes for a pair of sneakers. Specifically a pair of “Royal Crown Cream-Sponge Para Litefoot Tennis Shoes”.
First this echoes in me for when I was grade school and most of Junior High I couldn’t wear tennis shoes except for gym class. I had orthodics that didn’t work in regular shoes. I was always a bit jealous of everyone else wearing “cool shoes” while I was stuck with clunkers.
The other way this story touches me is it brings back memories of the part of my childhood spent in Milan, Michigan. On a dead end street with railroad tracks and a grain elevator at the open end. I was growing up enough then to now there was a bigger world, but not grown up enough to worry yet.
“The Sound of Summer Running” always makes me think of fresh mown grass. Thinking that I had found secret plans of a spy, when all it was the train schedule for the grain elevator. I also think about playing in the cornfield and believing aliens were involved when our garage door opened. When all it was the radio in the small planes overhead setting off the garage door opener.
I also think about that a trip to the library seemed magical then. Going through the entire children’s section and then getting special permission to read from the adult section.
The library was also one the first places I was allowed to go by myself on my bike. Venturing off our street past the railroad tracks seemed like quite an adventure. After a while I could ride all the way downtown to the Five and Dime so I could buy plastic soldiers and dinosaurs. They faced off against my GI Joes and Big Jim.
I had had finally traded in my green Schwinn starter bike for my cool gold fleck machine with the banana seat and the chopper handlebars. I thought I was so cool riding it around. Looking back at myself now I was a damn geek. And I have the pictures to prove it.
Its nice to have something brings all those memories. My summer imagined adventures, Tom Swift books, and of course the Three Investigators too! I miss being a kid sometimes.
(no subject)
Gordon