Motley Crew

While not a great photo (taken from my mobile), it does capture something timeless somehow. I own a number of similar pictures from this age: a gang of scuffy kids on parched grass, washed out colouring, baseball bat and soccer balls, unwilling photo participants ... yep, same as it ever was. On our block, San Ramon, it was the Emerson kids, the Prices, Porters, Churches, Hiennas and others - probably 20 of us in all. Since it was a quiet street, we often played in it: prison ball, tag, whatever as long as there was sunshine we were out there. San Ramon was also memorable for the go-carting. Our neighbor Todd (four years older then me) and I spent months nailing planks and wood-scraps, stealing grocery-carts for the wheels and devising hand brakes from broom-shafts, which were jammed on to the downward pavement (alternative: the sole of one's sneaker; feet otherwise used for steering). Rubber-band guns optional -- lock and load, baby. Of course the best part was the whooping and hollering down some crazy hill, traffic or blind curve be damned. And where were the adults?