When I was growing up in the 80s and early 90s, we would play until the street lights came on. Neighbors had pools for the summer, and there were plenty of wooded areas around us during the winter. More subdivisions popped up around us, and we would go climbing through the structures, conquering large mounds of dirt and “surfing” down them on plywood sheets.
After about 1988 or so, something happened. The Atari gave way to the Nintendo. If you were popular, you had one. Then Sega Genesis. We no longer had to walk the mile to get to the arcade. We could play at home and didn’t have to plink in our allowance to play. By the mid-90s, we had a computer in the house with Internet access to AOL. There was Instant Messaging and email and chat rooms. I could talk to kids around the country. Some of them I would call (much to the chagrin of my mom’s pocketbook when the phone bill came in), others I would write.
Next thing I know, here we are. With all of the digital gadgets, who needs outside anymore, right? I spent the weekend under the hood of my brother’s truck, sweating my butt off, and I noticed kids outside. They’re riding bikes and scooters, putzing around the neighborhood. I hear kids splashing in pools. They’re out there, but undoubtedly there are phones in the pockets of those kids with mom eager to dial them if they want them home.
We’re prisoners in our own homes anymore. Violent crime, sex offenders, THE GOVERNMENT... we do our best to avoid them by staying home. We make our homes our castles, monuments to our materialism and internally-facing lives. Communities aren’t what they used to be. Sure you get the occasional block party, but they’re usually booze-fueled bitch sessions about neighbor A’s crappy grass or neighbor B’s broken down pickup in the driveway.
What are we doing to ourselves as a nation, guys?