“A Magical, Secret Summertime”
When youngsters roamed free of parental supervision, phones and social media.
Welcome! In the last two years since launching my Substack platform, Massé Musings: Notes from a Nomadic Son’s Life, I have published 180 weekly entries, including essays, nonfiction narratives and fiction (short stories and novel excerpts). In 2024 my mission remains: to inform, engage and enlighten my readers
“A Magical, Secret Summertime”
When youngsters roamed free of parental supervision, phones and social media.
I recently watched a psychologist pitch his latest book on a Sunday news channel, warning of the dangers of social media fixation among adolescent girls. His research wasn’t revolutionary, given societal awareness of the risks of personal isolation, low self-esteem, bullying and other problems tied to reliance on smartphones. Among his findings: 10-14-year-old girls spend on average 9 hours daily viewing sites, texting and obsessing on their constant high-tech companions. What three strategies did the author suggest parents employ to address this behavior and to promote a healthier lifestyle for their children? 1) Reduce weekly time online and seek cooperation of fellow parents to enforce such guidelines. 2) Promote outdoor activities so kids can engage more with nature. 3) Discover the benefits of face-to-face interaction by playing offline with friends. These recommendations sounded reasonable to this aging baby-boomer who grew up in the wild and woolly 1950s and ’60s when youngsters roamed free of parental supervision, phones and social media.
Long before internet exposure was even a “thing,” about the only media-related concern of our folks was that daily TV watching of “The Three Stooges” might warp us into a bunch of delinquents. They needn’t have worried. Cue Billy Joel’s “Only the Good Die Young” lyrics from The Stranger album: “We might be laughing a bit too loud. Aw, but that never hurt no one.”
I know it’s not easy to break smartphone reliance and social media habits, and I wish more of today’s youths could enjoy some of the simple pleasures we grandparents took for granted in our spontaneous childhood adventures. For example, in the summer of 1966 my young teenage pals and I found a magical, secret summertime place just yards from the Hutchinson River Parkway in Westchester County, N.Y. Nestled in a tiny urban woodlands, in what could generously be called a creek, we found an old metal cement tub. Day after day we walked a couple miles from our homes to escape into Tom Sawyer-Huck Finn shenanigans sailing our “boat” in the cool, shallow waters, shaded by tall trees, which obscured nearby streams of speeding metro New York traffic. We packed lunches, brought our transistor radios, engaged in horseplay and joked for hours on end. Once when my Ohio grandparents paid a visit, I invited the family to our Shangri-La. My maternal grandfather, Herbert Henry Hart, who had been a longtime Scout leader in Cleveland, grinned like a carefree boy when he saw our hideaway.
But Mom, a natural-born worrier, fretted those months before my freshman year in high school. She had been raised a city kid and was concerned with the perils and pitfalls of the great outdoors. Whenever I announced I was “going to the Hutch” with my best friend, Steve, and the guys, she said an extra round of prayers for my safe passage. And often mothers do know best when it comes to their children’s well-being. Case in point: In late August 1966, after playing for days in that muggy, mosquito-laden, watery environ, I contracted viral encephalitis and spent almost a week in the hospital. That was a frightening experience for my parents, who may have wished they had better regulated my recreation time. But that wasn’t done much back in the good old “go out and play” days of yesteryear.
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© 2024 Mark H. Massé
NOTE: To access more of my fiction and nonfiction, please visit my Authors Guild website: www.markmasse.com & https://www.amazon.com/author/mhmasse
<< 10-14-year-old girls spend on average 9 hours daily viewing sites, texting and obsessing on their constant high-tech companions. >>
Doesn't anyone remember the expression, "Get a life"? There are so many OTHER things they might be doing in even five of those nine hours!