Biff America: Weak Bladders and Risky Rides

It’s a photo, taken 10 years ago, that reminded me of both the passage of time and the perceived immortality enjoyed by young people.

Imagine a slightly stable electric scooter: small wheels, a narrow deck, and a motor that's probably too big for the vehicle's structural integrity. An 18 foot by 18 foot square piece of wood was covered with duct tape on the top of the scooter. A foldable lawn chair was stuck to it. Perched on the chair, as proud as Henry Ford sitting in his first Model T, was a neighboring child of 9 or 10 years old. Next to him was his younger brother, waiting his turn if his brother survived.

Of course, 10 years ago I posted this photo on Facebook with the caption “What could possibly be going on?” » The photo and caption reappeared as a “memory” from 10 years ago. The kid in question is out of the area, maybe off to college, but I had his father's cell phone number. I texted him the photo and he reminded me that I wrote a column about kids and gear. He asked me if I had a copy.

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I scrolled through this post and another to see if I could find the column. In truth, I rarely do research myself, so it was surprising how many things seemed true to me, and some unflattering. Along with old columns, hate mail, and a police report about a crime later found to have been committed by an elderly albino lookalike, was the column in question. I sent it without reading.

But, while going through the newspapers, I also found other articles that I had written in memory of the young people in my neighborhood.

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There was a column, written about 12 years ago and featuring our neighbor Luke, then about 7 or 8 years old. Ellie and I were sitting outside when we looked up to see Luke peeing in his yard. We broke down. I was tempted to do the same but Ellie insisted I go inside. Luke's family moved a long time ago; he just graduated from the University of Colorado.

Another story featured Rex and Cody, who were doing laps around the hood on their bikes making motorcycle noises from their mouths. I remember doing the same thing with my friends when I was their age. Did you notice I didn't mention that none of these kids were supervised? Their parents wisely decided that as long as they stayed close to home, their children would be safe, happy, and, most importantly, free.

There was a child in the neighborhood who appeared to have been observed.

One day I opened the door and Dawn and Max were standing on our front porch. Dawn said, “Jeffrey, Max has something to tell you.” Max walked over and said, “Jeffrey, I'm sorry I peed in your driveway.” His mother seemed to approve until he added, “But I really had to go.” Max's confession was no surprise. About 15 minutes earlier, I was working on my bike in my garage. I looked up and Max had jumped off his scooter and was relieving himself in my driveway.

Hoping to make Max feel better, I told him I would do the same thing often but, being an adult, I wait until the sun goes down. Max and Dawn left my porch with only one of them happy with me.

When we moved into our current home over twenty years ago, we were surrounded by family. Since we did not and do not have televisions, our entertainment often consisted of watching children playing in the street, falling off their bikes or skateboards, and relieving themselves in public.

Today, it is rare to see children. In my neighborhood, few families can afford to live here.

On my first day home after a 6-week spring camping trip, I was riding my bike down a nearby street and noticed that where just a few weeks ago there were cool houses, there are now vacant land. The same homes that some of my friends loved, raised children and sold, have been torn down and will soon be rebuilt bigger and fancier. Houses that once housed families will be beautiful second homes used only sporadically by the very wealthy.

Despite all the changes, I am sad but without judgment. People do what they must to live, survive and hopefully thrive in this wonderful place. Children grow up and families cash in.

At the very least, it provides a sense of appreciation for the families who managed to stay and make it work. And I'm grateful for the amenities and programs that make families feel invested, if not in my neighborhood, then in others.

Ellie and I sat outside this evening watching the sunset. Just before walking out the door, Ellie said, “For God’s sake, don’t do that here.” Go inside.”

Jeffrey Bergeron's Biff America column appears Mondays in the Summit Daily News. Bergeron has worked in television and radio for over 30 years, and his columns can be read in several newspapers and magazines. He is the author of Mind, Body, Soul. Bergeron arrived in Breckenridge when there was plenty of parking and no stoplights. Contact him at [email protected].