On Long Live Boy Hood (Part 1)

Boys,

In the play room, there is a sign that reads “Long Live Boy Hood.” Actually, in our play room, there are two signs; one has the word “Long” above the word “Live,” and the other has “Boy” above the word “Hood.” Sometimes I get real crazy and read it as “Long Boy Live Hood.”

And that is about all for this post. Love you boys…

Just kidding.

The point is, I was thinking about those signs and it reminded me of when I was about your ages, one of my favorite things was talking to my dad and having him tell me stories about when he was young. Because he had 5 brothers (and lived a bit out in the country), there were usually good stories about cutting through neighbors yards, hopping fences, and getting into trouble. I loved listening to those stories and wish I remembered some of them.

So, here are a few stories about me when I was growing up that you can ask me about when you get older and read these posts. Or, maybe you can tell me these stories when I get old to remember these things and it will probably make me really happy. Here are three stories about me that come to mind. Maybe I’ll do this again and give you a series of stories you can look back on.

And before I jump in, I think that I had a pretty normal, pretty ordinary childhood. There was no trauma, no wild adventures that they write books about, but I think the freedom I had might be exciting because each generation seems to lose a little bit of that freedom when they grow up.

This first one isn’t so much a story, but it kind of sets the scene for what life was like when I was your ages in Reynoldsburg, OH. I was still living with my mom, dad, and your uncle Jordan. We lived in a smaller-ish 3BR house in a neighborhood. Below is a picture of that house (it used to be red and the house on the right side of the picture wasn’t there — it was just woods where we could run around and play with our friends). The back yard was fenced in, had a big tree with a rope hanging down from it, and we also had a basketball hoop in the driveway.

Across the street, or behind the camera from the vantage point of the picture above, was a big field that had a baseball field in the corner. Chances are that if I was playing outside, I’d either be playing baseball with the other kids in the neighborhood, over at one of my best friends houses (Eric and Trent [shout outs to Mike Sandor and Brandon Pavol for being my other best friends, but didn’t live close enough to make this post]), or riding our bikes to JFK Park which was ~1.5 miles away. There was also a pool we would go to, but I don’t remember if I rode my bike there or if I only went with my parents or friends’ parents.

We also had a tree house in our backyard and a crazy Siberian Husky named Cinders. I remember if friends came over to our house, we’d play in the tree house and dare each other to run around the yard while the dog chased us and nipped at us, and we thought we were the bravest kids in the world to do something so crazy. Cinders, when she wasn’t chasing us around the yard, loved to jump the chainlink fence and run away, or jump through the screen door into our family room, so eventually Cinders had to find a new place to live where she had more room to run and less doors to bust through.

The second story will follow the suit of the first in that it isn’t necessarily a story, but kind of a look into what life was like for me as a kid. After Reynoldsburg, we moved around a bit but landed in Coral Springs, FL. I would have been about 10-12 at this time, but many of the memories that come to me when I think of my childhood are centered there. Right now, your Aunt Paige lives close by, and I’ve been back there once to remind myself of the places I think of when I think about that time in my life.

For me, Florida was all about friends and sports. Coral Springs was a denser place to live than Reynoldsburg, especially when you consider we lived in an apartment complex. Across the street was a gated community where one of my best friends, Zach, lived. He and I played baseball together, would go to the mall, and would roller blade together. I wasn’t very good, but I loved to go to the grocery store and “grind” on the loading docks because it felt like something we weren’t supposed to do. Turns out, it WAS something we weren’t supposed to do.

I was really good at most sports, especially baseball and to a lesser extent, basketball. When you’re young, being good at sports brings you a lot of confidence and confidence makes you a lot of friends. This is one of the reasons I want you boys to grow up confident — because I think the more confident you are, the more people will look up to you and you’ll become the best versions of yourselves. Anyway, most of my time in Florida was split between Cypress Park and Mullins Park where I’d be playing sports. Since the weather was good year round, I was able to play outdoor baseball and basketball all the time, and I don’t remember ever doing any “indoor” leagues.

I liked living in Florida because it was a little bit edgier than living in Reynoldsburg. Now, lets just say “edgy” is all a matter of perspective. I don’t think I ever felt like I was in danger anywhere I lived, but Reynoldsburg felt like everyone looked out for one another. Florida was a mix of ethnicities, cultures, and there was a lot of education about gangs down there because that was something that was prevalent down there. In Ohio, we had what was called a “D.A.R.E.” program, which stood for “Drug Abuse Resistance Education.” In Florida, we had “G.R.A.D.E.” which I think stood for “Gang Resistance and Drug Education.” Because I didn’t know any better, the cool thing to do in 5th grade was flashing as many gang signs as you could learn to your friends. I know, super cool to think back on now.

Anyway, Florida didn’t last long, and we moved back to Ohio when I was in middle school. The rest of my childhood was split between Gahanna and Canal Winchester, and I’ll save details about those times for a different post. I guess the point of this is that the crazy thing about being a kid is that you only get to know your dad as just that — your dad. Just like my dad had this whole other life and this whole other existence before I was born, so did I before you two came to me. Anyway, these posts are supposed to be about you two and what your lives look like as you grow up, but maybe understanding more about me will help you understand more about yourselves when you’re old enough to read this. And when that comes, please ask me questions!

Until then, I love you both so so much.

Love,

Dad