Physical Fitness

July 29th, 2008 | Filed under: 1950s, 1970s, 1980s, 1990s, 2000s, Life

I was watching a TV show on my computer the other day and I actually paid attention to the commercial (embedding is disabled, hence the link). At first I was amused by it, then I was amazed, and then I was downright mad about it. It was a commercial from the US government encouraging children to get physically fit. The buzz phrase was ‘go outside for an hour a day to play’.

As I was a child, when I wasn’t working the rock pile or helping around the house, I was playing. I was too busy playing to see a television commercial to tell me to play.

In the summer, the neighbor kids, my brothers and I played horseshoes. The shoes were actually from some horse that had been re-shod. When the horse was done with them they gave them to the children to play with. Re-cycling at work again.

It was easy to set up for a game of horseshoes. We’d drive 2 pieces of pipe in the ground about 15 feet apart and we were ready. We’d decide beforehand how many points you got for a ringer, how many for a shoe that leaned on the stake, and how many for a shoe that was close enough to the stake that it could be measured with the opening of the shoe. We learned all of the ways to garner a point by watching the adults play. The goal of course was to ring the stake (pipe) with the shoe. Believe it or not, it takes some skill to make this happen. The shoe is heavy, the opening on it is small, and 15 feet can be pretty far away for a child. Sometimes the less even tempered among us could be downright dangerous during a game. One kid in particular had a hard time losing and sometimes he’d fling the shoes at his opponent instead of the stake. I’m sure this wouldn’t be allowed in government encouraged playtime. And truth is sometimes our horse shoe games lasted way more than an hour. I guess we were really physically fit.

When our own children were growing up they never needed a TV commercial to encourage them to play either. It was amazing but they seemed to take to it as naturally as I did. Maybe playing is a gene thing and my kids got it from me. They played baseball, hide n seek, put on plays in their playhouse, flew kites, and a few dozen other activities that I consider play. And they still managed to work around the house like I believe growing children should. Another generation of kids who were physically fit. And they didn’t even have a television to watch commercials on!

And now the next generation is taking up the idea of play (and work). Our granddaughter is always running, dancing, jumping, singing. She loves to play in water or sand. She thinks walking to visit her grandparents is a great way to get here. The kid just knows how to play and exercise naturally.

Knowing how to play just has to be inherited. I’m darn near convinced that if you don’t have the play gene to get physically fit you better watch TV to see how it’s accomplished. I’m so glad it came naturally to me and mine.

I know I have made fun about the physical fitness of the children of our nation but it is a serious problem as can be seen by the statistics below:

  • Since 1980, the number of overweight children has doubled
  • 1/3 of young people in grades 9-12 don’t regularly engage in vigorous physical activity.
  • Out of overweight 5 to 10-year-olds, 61% have one risk factor for heart disease, and 26% have two or more risk factors.
  • Hospital costs related to treating overweight and obese children and adolescents more than tripled from $35 million during 1979-1981 to $127 million during 1997-1999.  (http://www.adcouncil.org/default.aspx?id=389)

As my dear old dad said at nearly every evening meal, “You’ll never get fat if you go away from the table a little bit hungry.” Following this advice, along with lots of work and play has worked for my family fit for 3 generations!

Toys

July 7th, 2008 | Filed under: 1950s, Life

Toys are a big part of any child’s life. We all start out with a rattle and progress from there. Some of the toys I played with as a kid were home-made, one of a kind. They would have never been part of my life if I didn’t have my older brother who included me in the things he did.

The Soap Box Derby was a big event in our town every year. My older brother never ran a car in the race but he did build a few cars. We actually called his “crates” since they were constructed a bit differently than the regulation Derby car. They were made from things that he was able to gather from what my dad had laying around.

His crates usually consisted of a plank for the body.  I don’t know where he got the wheels or what he used for axles but I was the gofer (go fer the hammer, go fer the nails, etc) not the engineer. His steering system was 2 ropes attached to the front axle. Pull right to go right, pull left to go left. His design was all about simplicity. Brakes are always an important part of any moving object you’re riding on and the crates were no different. The first few that were constructed had the simplest method of stopping. We’d put our feet down and dragged them till we stopped. Obviously there were some problems with this- ruined shoes, sore feet and legs and sometimes it was ineffective so the second option was used. Crashing! The cars improved a little every time they were built or re-built. (after crashes). Manufacturers know their products are only as good as the materials  used to make them. My brother learned this when my dad brought home a set of real Soap Box Derby wheels and axles.

That wonderful gift caused him to aspire to a whole new level of engineering capabilities. There was a steering wheel to consider- gone were the ropes! And a real brake seemed important with real axles. He also created backs so that we could lean back while we rode.

The place we rode the crates was the same place we picked huckleberries. It was called ‘The Cuts’. It was an old abandoned strip mine. It’s not easy to describe what it was like but I’ll try. Holes were dug in the ground and the dirt from the hole was piled right beside it. Most of the dirt piles were very high which meant the holes were very deep. Lots of times the holes were filled with water. And it covered a very large area. What made this the perfect place to ride a crate was the hills. We pushed the crate up the hill and rode it down. (Playing was not easy, it was exhausting!) Sometimes, if we gained enough momentum on a hill and the next one was fairly small we could coast to the top and ride 2 or even 3 hills without pushing. The problem came it we chose the wrong hill. The wrong hill being one with water on the other side. I don’t know how we never got hurt or killed except our guardian angels were with us. We really had great times there.

I know my mother never knew what the place looked like or she would have forbidden us to ever go near it. But we would truthfully say to her “we’re taking the crate to The Cuts to ride”, and she would always answer, “Okay, have fun and be careful or be home for lunch.” I have no idea why she didn’t investigate or why my dad didn’t inform her. But if she had, I would have missed out on some of the best memories, not to mention the fun.

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