This morning is a rest time. Yes, I'm doing some writing, but I'm also taking long delays to look out the window and watch the children playing. Some times of year, RV'ing is strictly for old gray-haired people, but here in Vacation Time and close to a city, many of the campers have small children. It is interesting to watch.
Back when I was grade-school age, I can remember playing various war games. Cap pistols and cowboys and indians were a staple. When I was a little older, I can vividly remember being Marines, fighting against invisible, un-named 'others'. This was post WWII and pre-Vietnam. Somehow I completely missed Korea. By the time I was a teenager, it was home-made explosives against no one, just for the enjoyment of the fireworks.
Watching out the window, I see war games are still as present as ever, but the framework has changed. Fighting Indians is no longer PC, I guess. Probably the same with current-era military play. But mystic swords and capes, along with Spiderman action figures, still give young ones the same experience. Of course I wonder what they'll be doing as teenagers. I know my daughter, now married, still has a nice collection of cutlery, from ornate daggers to batleths. Enough to get her put in jail in Britain, I hear. Times change, but people stay the same.
Change of Schedule - Henry’s Stories has been on-line and regularly updated for almost two years now, with a mix of new and old stories -- some short and others novel length. ...
4 years ago