60's memories-1964

I had successfully begun my fourth grade year by stealing all of the activity balls to our classroom. In our garage, I must have had ten, or more stashed away. I had no idea why I did it, I just did. Anyway, I ended up kicking them over the fence, and back into the school yard. I guess I was just crazy about those balls!

Kudos to any one of you out there who remembers that sacred event known as "Hot Dog Day." I'm not talking a mere cafeteria menu item. This was an event. It happened maybe two or three times a year. For a small sum of 75 cents, you recieved a wiener wrap, milk, and an orange sherbet-vanilla ice cream cup. Plus, school classes ended at noon and the rest of the day's activities were spent outdoors for recess.

I loved the way the blades folded in and out on a pocket knife. Plus, there were several sizes of blades. There was for me an undeniable fascniation with pocket knives that I never got over as a kid. I used to also collect fishing tackle. It was great.

Percolators: It was cool watching the gurgling at the top. I always enjoyed the sound too. There was a comfortable feeling in our kitchen as people sat around the dining table drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes. The percolator was always going.

Love these old record players, even though the sound was terrible. But, back then, we didn't know about good sound, at least not in our house. I can't believe how many times I played The Kinks' 45 "You Really Got Me." Remember having to put a penny or a nickel on the arm to keep it from skipping?

I discovered this book "Bread and Jam for Frances" on our classroom shelf that rested along the heat vents. I was fascinated by how good the characters made lunch look. I must have read this book a hundred times. It is now a proud part of my collection today, along with the other "Frances" books. My second favorite was "Bartholomew and the Oobleck", a green and slimy joy day after day.

Daydreaming out the classroom window on rainy days was probably the reason my report cards weren't in my favor. It didn't matter what year Columbus discovered America. What truly mattered was that it that very year of 1964, John, Paul, George, and Ringo discovered America.

I was, however, keenly interested in Lewis and Clark. Perhaps it was because the TV program "Bucky Beaver" made their history so interesting. We used to watch Bucky in school. The teacher would wheel in the TV on a tall stand, plug it in, and away we'd go into PBS history.

Our fourth grade class was assigned to paint a giant mural depicting Lewis and Clark's arrival in Astoria. Astoria is in Oregon, and I'd been there before on our family jaunts to the ocean. I painted a large whale in the ocean with a clipper ship. Now, I don't remember this story, but according to my mom, the teacher called her and had her come in to the school. My teacher, Mrs. Cheer (pronounced "sheer"), was so impressed by my painting that she tried to convince my mom to enroll me into art school when I grew up. She told my mom that I should seriously consider a career as a *commercial artist.

This is perhaps one of the strangest stories of my growing up, but, also one of the most delightful. The story takes place in the early summer of 1964 when a local entrepreneur opened up the first mini-fun center in our neighborhood. The "U-Drive Golf Range, Go-Kart Track, and Dairy Queen soon came to SE Powell Blvd. The driving range's nets couldn't contain most of the balls. Therefore, the golf balls were launched into space by the powerful swings of anyone who had 75 cents for a "bucket of balls". They traveled upwards at light speed, flew over the nets and landed in people's yards. Hundreds of these white egglike UFO's were found spotting the green pastures of backyards and Barlow School's playgrounds. Naturally, these missing balls were of great concern for the owner of the driving range.

So, he made the locals an interesting offer: for every 3 golf balls that were returned, that person would recieve a free Go-Kart ride. Needless to say, the Go-Karts were the local obsession. They were loud, fast, and steered around roads of tires. Soon the school grounds were filled with kids armed with baseball mitts waiting for fly balls.

It didn't take long for the golf balls to hit our house. My brother Pat was struck on the wrist by one. It was at that point that my mom took serious action. In order to avoid a lawsuit, the owner came to our house to strike a deal. Instead of 3 golf balls, it only took 1 to get the same deal everyone else got. plus each ball was worth a nickel at the Dairy Queen! Soon, newer, higher nets were being built. Naturally, a panic spread among the local kids; a valuable neighborhood resource was running out! The golf balls would eventually be gone.Greed and Golf Ball Fever set in. Kids were scaling our fence to get the balls in our yard. Our collie Bonnie usually scared them off, but other security measures became a necessity.

I was literally living in a garden of eden; I could buy soft ice cream cones at Dairy Queen using golf balls for money. We kept all of the balls we found in a large wooden box. When I asked if I could get an ice cream cone at Dairy Queen, my mom would reply: "go ahead and take 1 ball."

Dairy Queen offered several sizes of cones at the time. Plus, you could choose from plain vanilla, or chocolate, cherry, or butterscotch dipped! The most incredible of all was the giant 25 cent cone. This thing was a monster! My mom would never let me get one of those.

I was practically drooling over the idea of a 25 cent chocolate dipped cone. So, one day on my way to DQ, i had my usual golf ball. But, nearly hidden in the blackberry bushes halfway down the hill were two white "egglike" objects! I then found a 10 cent pop bottle in the dirt which I cashed in at Food Fair. I finally got my 25 cent chocolate dipped cone at DQ. It proceeded to melt all over me halfway home.