Bill OBoyle: Time traveling in the Way Back Machine
Mar. 26—PLYMOUTH — As you can see, the Way Back Machine is very real and it has taken me to many destinations over the years.
It's an awesome vehicle to return to those absolutely good old days and re-visit places like Melody Park, San Souci, Sandy Beach, Hanson's, Brodmarkle's, Miracle Mart, Sgarlet Lake, Plymouth High School, Huber Field, Kis-Lyn, Main Street in Plymouth and all those businesses and much more.
It's great to hover over the Ash Diamond in Plymouth and watch those softball games, or to once again watch the Halloween Parade in Plymouth, as costumed kids walk past those painted windows of all the businesses.
We can see the Shawnee Indians cagers battle the Nanticoke Trojans at the Gaylord Armory, or head to the Kingston Armory for a Barons game and see the old Stegmaier game clock way up high.
We can sit on my front porch and play Strat-O-Matic, or throw Topps baseball cards against the house, or head to the backyard for a game of Wiffle Ball.
Wayne Bevan can stop by and I can get my guitar out and strum as Wayne sings song after song. Or we can travel over Second Street to the Mountain Inn and listen to our band — the UNCLE Agents — practice on George Miklosi's second floor covered porch, much to the chagrin of the neighbors.
We can watch a heated game of stocking ball or up-against, or we can just cool off with a bowl full of cherries or a fresh peach or plum. We can pedal our bikes over to Jack's Market and get a cold drink, a candy bar, or an ice cream before we race down the hill to Huber Playground for a pick-up game of basketball. Or, better yet, head over to Doc Savage's for a competitive game with the Vinnies' kids.
I can see myself walking through our front door and hearing the screen door softly bang repeatedly behind me. It was the intoxicating, yet calming sound of that wooden screen door that I'll never forget.
That screen door kept the bugs out, allowed the cool breeze in and made sure that we could hear everything that was going on in the neighborhood. And it also welcomed in the sweet smell of lilacs, or apple pies cooling on the neighbors porch.
I've said it before, but those were the days of front doors that were never locked, nor were our car doors. Simple pleasures derived from a simple life in much simpler times.
I can hear the Times Leader Evening News landing on the front porch. I would quickly turn to the sports pages and read all about what happened the day before — long before SportsCenter and constant updates and the "deadline now" world we live in and rely on today.
It was a much slower pace to our lives. We didn't have cell phones to check and re-check and update and search and curse at if the Wi-Fi was down.
Nope, we would just walk out onto the front porch, sit in the shade of a huge maple tree and wait for something — anything — to happen. Oh how relaxing it was.
After supper with mom and dad — mashed potatoes, green beans, mom's gravy and roast beef were favorites — then back outside to see what was going on with the other kids.
Some nights we would wait for those awesome cars to drive by, each distinctive and sharp. Chevys, Fords, Chryslers, Dodges, some coupes, some sedans, some rag tops. No SUVs — staionwagons man. Oh, my 1966 Pontiac GTO — light blue with a white rag top and white interior.
At night, we were thrilled to watch TV on a black and white Admiral with rabbit ears wrapped in tin foil. Sitcoms were funny. Variety shows had talent. Westerns, dramas, all viewed in glorious black and white.
Time for the 11 o'clock news. "Do you know where your children are?" We sure do, right here next to us, getting ready for bed. Go brush your teeth.
News was delivered in a fair and non-partisan manner. Same with sports and the weather was last. Back then, we looked out the window to see what the weather was like. Forecasts didn't really matter.
So many places to visit. So many memories to recall. The Way Back Machine takes us there, week after week.
It's not living in the past, it's savoring it. Each of us has special memories from when we grew up and it's good to remember them and to talk about them and to appreciate those times.
The Way Back Machine exists in each of us — in our minds and in our hearts.
It has therapeutic value and it allows us to offer our great history and memories to our families and friends.
And every trip taken in the Way Back Machine provides endless great rewards.
All aboard!
Reach Bill O'Boyle at 570-991-6118 or on Twitter @TLBillOBoyle.
