The Pathos of Childhood

32 Responses to The Pathos of Childhood

1. John says:

   September 6, 2006 at 7:58 am

   That yellowish tinge to the grass in those late 1960s and early 1970s photos (I’m not sure if it was the negative or the print that wasn’t true to color), especially for those 110 cartridge films, always makes me nostalgic for the people that were captured on the prints for me, most of whom I’ve lost.

   Leave it to a chemist to associate nostalgia with a particular technology…
2. red says:

   September 6, 2006 at 8:09 am

   John – well, I’m not a chemist – but I actually know exactly what you mean. :)
3. Another Sheila says:

   September 6, 2006 at 8:34 am

   Hahahaha — that teeeeeeeny tiny bikini. I LOVE it!!!
4. red says:

   September 6, 2006 at 8:42 am

   hahahahahaha I know – it’s kinda like: uhm, what is the POINT of that bikini??

   It’s so ridiculous.
5. red says:

   September 6, 2006 at 8:42 am

   Actually, I;m sure part of the point was to turn me into a creature of FUN for all the adults to laugh at. I mean … look at that.
6. Another Sheila says:

   September 6, 2006 at 8:52 am

   As someone who has put two deliciously fat, blindingly white, bald baby girls in similarly non-existent bikinis in recent years, I can say that YES, that is absolutely the point.
7. PatrickP says:

   September 6, 2006 at 9:10 am

   Oh, for God’s sake.
8. red says:

   September 6, 2006 at 10:07 am

   Sheila – hahahahahahahahaha
9. red says:

   September 6, 2006 at 10:09 am

   Patrick – HA! You know – I haven’t even met you – but I just KNOW how you sounded when you “said” that.
10. Jayne says:

    September 6, 2006 at 10:10 am

    It kind of looks like a Georges Seurat painting.

    “A Sunday Afternoon With the Baby in the Petite Bikini” or something like that….
11. red says:

    September 6, 2006 at 10:17 am

    The grass does look like a Seurat painting, Jayne!! – with that line between shadow and sun.

    Sunday in the Plastic Tub with a Fat Baby in a Bikini …
12. tracey says:

    September 6, 2006 at 5:01 pm

    I’m sorry. There is a chubby little flesh fold above AND below that whole bikini top/breast-binding apparatus. Just how TIGHT was that thing??

    Those are killing me, those little folds.

    Baby Sheila: “I would play, but I literally cannot breathe, dudes.”
13. red says:

    September 6, 2006 at 5:02 pm

    hahahahahahahaha tracey!!!

    “I would love to actually touch that clown-hatted plastic floating toy – but I am unable to move my fat arms due to the binding of my teensy bikini. HELLLLLLP”
14. tracey says:

    September 6, 2006 at 5:13 pm

    It is a portrait of courageous struggle.
15. red says:

    September 6, 2006 at 5:15 pm

    I look so serious and defeated. Like I have accepted my breast-bound plastic-tubbed lot in life.
16. tracey says:

    September 6, 2006 at 5:16 pm

    And just how many toys are trapped under that pudgy Buddha belly …
17. red says:

    September 6, 2006 at 5:17 pm

    I seem a bit overwhelmed by the toy choices floating in front of me.
18. tracey says:

    September 6, 2006 at 5:18 pm

    /breast-bound plastic-tubbed lot in life./

    Hahahahahahaha!

    I feel that way right now ….
19. red says:

    September 6, 2006 at 5:18 pm

    Yes, in some way my entire life struggle is encapsulated in that photo.

    hahahahaha
20. tracey says:

    September 6, 2006 at 5:19 pm

    Your whole WORLD is just the tub and the TIGHTNESS.
    It’s hard to watch, really.
21. red says:

    September 6, 2006 at 5:21 pm

    hahahaha Totally. Life pared down to its essentials.

    My profile reminds me a bit of this.
22. tracey says:

    September 6, 2006 at 5:23 pm

    HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh, my God, it DOES!!
23. tracey says:

    September 6, 2006 at 5:26 pm

    But YOU grew out of it; he didn’t.
24. red says:

    September 6, 2006 at 5:31 pm

    I fear I may grow into that look again.
25. tracey says:

    September 6, 2006 at 5:36 pm

    No, no! You are beautiful.
26. tracey says:

    September 6, 2006 at 5:39 pm

    And smokin’ hot in a bikini, too.

    Now … I’m wondering something. What is that extra fabric poking up behind your back?

    Was it possible to give Baby Sheila more room to breathe and it was not done??
27. red says:

    September 6, 2006 at 5:44 pm

    It appears to be some sort of bow?? There are other pictures of me in this contraption – so I’ll have to check.

    Oh and I just have to say: I have very few memories of living in that house – but even just seeing the laundry on the line, and the old New England stone wall – gives me a vague sense of deja vu. The house still stands. For some reason, I really like that.
28. Nightfly says:

    September 6, 2006 at 7:47 pm

    Isn’t it great that as little kids we ached after an afternoon in the washtub pool, went off screaming like banshees in a sprinkler with homemade OJ popsicles, or turned backyards into African expiditions with a friend, two sticks, and some cast-off adult clothes?

    Now kids need portable Nintendo, constant air conditioning, and DVDs in the car? What happened?
29. RightThinkingGirl says:

    September 6, 2006 at 8:44 pm

    This sounds weird saying it to a woman I respect who is my own age but: I wanna kiss that belly!
30. red says:

    September 6, 2006 at 10:06 pm

    Nightfly – I actually know plenty of kids who still live that life that you described. It’s not in the past. Just 3 days ago, I was hanging out at my friend Beth’s house – there were 5 kids there – and there were games involving who could get to the porch first, there was hide and seek happening, there was jump roping by the side of the pool, there were all kinds of sneaky shenanigans going on.

    It’s too easy to say that kids are all different now, and that the good times are all in the past. Maybe the surface is different. Maybe they all wear bike helmets now. Maybe they have more than 3 television stations. Maybe they all wear their seat belts. But the life of the imagination is still alive and well.
31. Nightfly says:

    September 6, 2006 at 11:06 pm

    That’s true, Sheila, I was oversimplifying a bit. I’m lucky to know kids who simply enjoy the fun they find – but they just seem to stand out so much more. Most of the kids I see are acting spoiled in public. Kind of skews my perspective.
32. red says:

    September 6, 2006 at 11:17 pm

    Spoiled brats are always and forever, too. I remember spoiled brats when I was growing up too – truly HORRIBLE little beasts of children. Spoiled nasty little children – some of whom bullied me to tears, and who were never disciplined by their parents who wanted to be their friend, not their parent. Same shit as now.

    The one thing I know we did as kids which NO kids today appear to do (at least not in the cities or suburbs – maybe country kids do this) is disappear for the entire day and play with their friends, unattended by any adults, and unseen by any parents. We would leave the house – and be GONE and OUT OF SIGHT for the entire day. We could distantly hear our mothers calling us in for dinner – but we were blocks away, having mud wars in the woods or whatever. Can you imagine? To be gone For hours on end?? With no little cell phones on us? I don’t think that happens now. Too many freaks in the world. And the freaks in the world are much braver now, because of the Internet. That really IS a difference, at least in terms of how kids are allowed to live their lives. But when I was little, the summer days were free for alls – and I would be gone, in the woods, with my friends, until it got dark.

    I do think we both should say “F*** off to the spoiled brats of the world” in Emily’s Friday F*** Off thread!! hahaha I already can’t wait.