Considerations & Reflections: By Cale Lester
Considerations & Reflections
By Cale Lester
I was asked recently if I’d be interested in writing something to contribute to the Little Okieland website. I absolutely wanted to. Unfortunately, I couldn’t think of a single thing I felt compelled to write about. At least, I couldn’t think of anything that hadn’t been beat to death a hundred times before by more proficient writers than I.
Then it hit me. Maybe I’ll just write multiple short pieces as they come to me that can be put together. I’ve always enjoyed when the whole is greater than the sum of its parts.
I’ve also heard that you should write what you know. While that isn’t an abounding pile of knowledge, I tried to stick to that and my experiences. I hope you can relate to some of the things I’ve written here, or at the very least, I hope it can make you smile.
I was washing dishes today, when a memory blindsided me. When we were kids, Laiken and I made up a game we used to play called Chewbacca. Before you ask, of course we got the licensing rights from Lucas to use the name.
I bet we played twice a week. We’d run around the side of the house, pile onto the trampoline and commence playing Chewbacca in all its glory. You jump up in the air, yell “CHEWBACCA” as your butt hit the trampoline and bounce back up to your feet. Then repeat. You’ve got it. That was it. No one won. No one lost. Just a lot of yelling and bouncing. I’m sure our parents were proud.
I was driving around running some errands in the rain today. I realized I needed some new wiper blades. Of course, being an Okie, I knew as soon as I bought some, it wouldn’t rain again for 3 months. I don’t wanna screw farmers like that.
Hugh Hefner died yesterday. I didn’t feel all that affected by it. I WAS surprised at how many people seemed to be. Here was my bigger concern:
There’s a whole generation of young men out there that will never experience the thrill of seeing your first nudie mag. Add that to the list of things the internet has ruined.
I feel like that was major mile marker of growing up. You hit that age where all the guys admit that they do, in fact, like girls. They aren’t gross at all. They smell nice and I think I like those tight pants. Then, one of the guys in your circle of friends gets his hands on a nudie magazine from his older brother or steals one from his dad’s stash. My favorite scenario here is your buddy got it from his older brother who stole it from their dad’s stash. It only seems right that your inaugural peeping of the “playboy” is at least a 10 year old issue.
These kids will never have their own stash of nudie mags either. Nor will they ever have to find a sweet hiding spot to squirrel them away. I mean, come on. These are life skills that we’re talking about here. Maybe not, but it certainly seems like one of those coming of age events that they’ll be deprived of.
I guess the moral of the story here is, maybe old Hef did have a little more impact on my life than I thought.
Why in the hell is it called Super Mario Bros? Mario isn’t their last name.
These are the things that keep me awake at night.
Do you remember what, I can only describe as, magic felt like? When you were younger, the minute summer hit, it was there. Going to see a movie you were really excited about with a group of your friends. Swimming at night. Sleepovers after winning a baseball game. Staying up all night just to hear a song you were waiting to hear on the radio. Talking to a girl you like on the phone. I’m sad that some kids will never experience that. Or passing notes between class. You’d learn how to fold them in cool different ways. I still know how to fold one into a heart. Go ahead. Make fun, but that shit slayed. There was nothing quite like that exhilaration of receiving a note from someone you liked. Texting. Pffft.
You know, that feeling of sheer joy and unadulterated excitement over small things that we consider to be insignificant now. I miss that. I wonder when we lose that along the trail of life. I wonder why. I know there are obvious reasons, but I don’t like any of them so I’ll continue to pretend like I don’t know. I like to think of those moments now that I’m older and it seems like a thrill has to come at such a high price.
One of my favorites to reflect on is being in my front yard as kid. We grew up out in the country and we were barefoot almost constantly. Little rednecks in training. The bottoms of our feet were always stained black, purple and red from the tasty little gems that littered our yard around the mulberry tree. During the twilight of the day, a time that really made it feel like magic was possible, we’d get a couple of mason jars for a nightly summer showdown; who can catch the most lightning bugs. We’d chase them for what, in my mind, must have been hours wearing wide smiles that you just can’t wipe off.
It was a blast. It was clean. It was pure. I hope kids still do that or at least something like that. Those nostalgic moments are always accompanied by a slight ache, but I think that’s how you know they were meaningful.