Of Gypsies and Seriousness

When we lived in San Diego, I had a problem with the first place we moved into. It was a town home in a large complex. Other than the fact that the rent was one whole paycheck, I liked the town home itself and I knew it to be in a decent neighborhood. My major problem was the kids running about.

They ran in a group of about 15 to 20 children and the oldest one was probably 14 years old. The rest were all adolescents and there might even have been an older toddler or two that a sibling was supposed to be watching. No adults.

Often they would shoot past our door on bicycles or skateboards riding on the walk. Being largely pregnant and wobbly enough, I just knew that one day, I would step out my door and never know what hit me. Hubby, I'm sure, got more than tired of hearing me refer to them as "Lord of the Flies" children.

I haven't found things quite so crazy here in South Carolina where we live in a subdivision. But I have to laugh now when I see a group of children walking together. Have you ever watched them in your neighborhood?

The younger ones are much like I would imagine a roving band of gypsies to be. Colorfully dressed, twirling, dancing, a little musky, loosely grouped, often carrying a hodgepodge of odd items, and above all -- loudly talking and laughing.

While I enjoy watching them, there's not enough Advil in the world to make me join them.

On the other hand, add a few years and they start to resemble a royal procession. Everyone is stiff trying to look bored and cool at the same time. If a boy dares to attempt to get a girl's attention by imitating a monkey or doing some other boy-type thing, an observer can almost feel the disdain that is leveled at the poor fellow. An astute observer will be able to see that she is secretly overjoyed at the attention though. But they are together. Which is better than being with their parents. Ugh.

Add only a few more years and the teens are older, a little more settled in their skin, and all you'll find is a few giddy, young-looking adults. They don't really walk their neighborhoods much. Perhaps they would rather 'hang out' somewhere or maybe it's because everyone assumes they're hooligans up to no good. Or maybe they're are just becoming adults.

Adults don't tend to rove in their neighborhoods. We have purpose in our walking. It is exercise and I've got to get in this many miles. Or it is to get somewhere -- the dollar store up the hill or the convenience store on the corner or the grocery across the main street. Or it is too stinkin' hot to be walking around out there. Or cold.

Even though I'm sure of the migraine that would accompany it, the gypsy group calls to me somewhat. That carefree enjoyment and willingness to go somewhere (or nowhere) together just for the fun of it. Sometimes the headache is worth it.