Some kids are bookworms, some sit in front of the TV or computer hours on end, others play video games endlessly. While some mope around, whining that they’re “bored”. (driving parents to distraction trying to entertain them). Then there are the few (sadly, fewer every year) who race around the house, yard or neigborhood non-stop! Throwing off energy, dirt, food scraps, clothes, the very light of life in every direction.
 I was one of those race around kids. Most of my buddies were too, we never stopped moving. Playing sandlot baseball, touch football, hide and seek ‘til way after dark. Recklessly riding hundreds of miles on our bicycles every summer. Pulling wheelies, sliding holes in the tires, jammin’ to that cool “motorcycle” sound as cards chattered in wheel  spokes. Bike hiking all over God’s green acre, miles from home (riskin’ a good licking’, if our parents found out how far we’d ventured!).
 We went swimming in nearby rivers, ponds, waded into creeks catching snakes. Swam in Greggys’ new pool when his parents went “up-town” and installed the first one in our little village. Went fishin’ and built fires in a circle of rocks to cook ‘em (that never worked out, you need more than a stick to skewer and roast a fish).
 In the winter there were snow forts built, with snowball wars taking place almost daily. Ice skating for hours also meant keeping the pond or canal shoveled off. Mostly so’s we could show off for the little girls. Sleigh riding was a major diversion on steep hills. We used the big “tar hill” road whenever a heavy snowfall kept the cars from making the hill. There was even some ice fishing practiced (no fires then, we were smart enough to figure out you could fall through melted ice).
 In our small town there was not a lot to do. And yet, boredom never seemed to get in our way.
 In my early teens I managed to wrangle an old ‘50 Plymouth for $10.00! This lead us young fellers into “borrowing” tools from various sources (fathers generally owned a shed-full of car tools back then). We learned to mechanic (nearly fulltime) on that old flathead motor. Tire tubes (tubes?!) were patched by hand (sometimes leading to 2nd degree burns, as we learned to “hot patch” a tube). Tube “liners” were used when the cords showed through the treads. Anything to keep that old wreck runnin’ so we could race around the pastures. (secretly venturing out onto old secondary roads to “burn rubber” on the blacktop).
 What I’m getting at here, is we were very active (hyper?) kids!
There was seldom a time when we weren’t on the move. Closest I can recall of any us sitting still was when it rained. Then we’d be stuck in someone’s basement playing Monopoly or endless hands of penny poker. Fretting and stressing at being cooped up inside with “nothing” to do! Television had three channels, there were no TV games, no ipods, Xboxes or the like. We won’t even mention cell phones or “texting” our friends. There was usually one old black rotary-dial phone per household (and you’d better have an emergency goin’ on if you were talkin’ on it!).
 Everybody slowed down long enough to eat lunch ‘round midday (at any Mom’s house we were near). We usually went separately to our own homes for supper (homework had to get done sometime).
 Now here’s the odd thing. No one ever figured out there was something wrong with us? I’m pretty sure the adults in the community cared? They must’ve been surreptitiously keeping an eye on us. ‘Cuz calls to your parents happened with dispatch if you broke something (or a really good physical spat broke out during our playing). But we seldom saw a doctor unless someone broke a bone (or after someone’s Mom used up her entire supply of Iodine to scald a cut shut).
 Surprisingly, none of us were ever diagnosed with a “disorder”. Being active (and outdoors) 95% of the time might just be what kept the adults from killin’ us? Which they might have, had we stood around whining about being ”bored” all day long? Far as I recall no one caught ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder). No one (that I knew of) suffered from a bad weather disease, like being found to be harboring a “bi-polar” disposition. And amazingly, that simple way we lived worked out ok for uncounted generations!
  I don’t know about you..., I think the drug companies simply hadn’t discovered the right pills to sell..., ‘til now.
Cal Teeple, founder of the Observational Cogitation Consortium may often be found three stools down from you. He may be ignored, accosted or contacted at twinews@wayneindependent.com OR on our new website: wayneindependent.com.