Being an adolescent in old-time Phoenix


As someone who is drifting into his senior years now (and has been for some time), I often think how nice it would to be young again. I picture myself playing on the teeter-totter as a kid, or even starting at my first real job after I graduated from college. But I'd rather not be an adolescent again, thank you very much. I don't know about you, but those years for me were more than just gawky, they were embarrassing, painfully so. I remember my voice breaking at the worst possible times, and I don't even want to think about what the girls had to go through! And so today I'm thinking of how it would have felt to have been at that age - we'll say about 14ish, in old-time Phoenix. Come on, let's go!

Well, hello, Stinky! I didn't recognize you here at the stables, standing next to that horse. Yes, I realize that he's facing the other way. What? No, I've just been here all day, shoveling. What's that you have on your face? Manure?

Oh, I see. You read somewhere that putting manure all over your face would clear up your pimples, and make you more attractive to girls. I think you're better off with the pimples. And besides, I think that the prettiest girl in school is sweet on you!

Yep, I understand that Darlene has always yearned for you. I heard it from a friend who heard it from a friend. Cross my heart and hope to die! Actually, I have my fingers crossed behind my back, I'm sure that she has no idea who you are. Me, either.

What are you looking at? Yes, I'm taller than you now. I think I must have grown a foot taller this past summer. Yes, mostly in my neck.

You know, I'm hungry again. It must have been a half-hour since I ate last. Let's go over to the bakery and see if they have anything that they'd give us, sometimes they throw away pies. I think I could eat about a dozen pies, how about you?

 Image at the top of this post: the Golden Eagle Stables in the 1890s, 2nd Street and Washington, Phoenix, Arizona.
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