The Sportsman's Corner
By Bob Cox, Mountain Valley News staff
We do not seem to go on as many picnics as we used to and I miss those simple family outings.
A large part of my family history seems to have evolved around outdoor activities and I have come to think that being outdoors is entwined somewhere in my DNA.
When I was very young, picnics were very much a part of my life. Often they were very simple things. The neighborhood I grew up in was very active and did not lack for children of all ages. It was not unusual for us to have hide-and-seek games that lasted well into the night. We played kick-the-can and dodge ball; and we had picnics.
Probably my first real interaction with someone of the opposite sex was the result of a peanut butter sandwich and glass of milk and an old tablecloth spread out on the ground in a back yard. Picnics do not have to be elaborate. In fact, if they become too sophisticated, they cease to be much fun. Picnics need to be simple.
My parents both liked picnics. It was not unusual for us to pack up a few buns and drive up a steep road behind the house into what is now a developed campground. Mom would mix up a batch of sloppy joes and maybe some fresh corn-on-the-cob, all heated up on a small fire surrounded by rocks arranged just right to support a cast iron skillet. After supper, I would often run down the trail and get home before the rest of the family. The whole outing would last less than 3 or 4 hours.
In later years, after I had kids of my own and had moved back closer to my parents, I would either make or receive a phone call suggesting that we meet for a picnic. Between the two households, we could manage to throw enough together and be on our way in just a few minutes. Hot dogs and hamburgers were the norm, but there always seemed to be enough food for twice the number of people attending.
And then there were the more celebratory picnics. Fire departments always have good picnics. I attended one of them with John Wayne once. The Elks Lodge picnics were planned a year in advance. Nearly every organization I ever belonged to had picnics. Now it seems they are more prone to banquets and silent auctions.
Entire Broadway musicals and subsequent movies have been made around the theme of a community picnic. Who can forget the famous Sadie Hawkins Day picnic that put Daisy Mae and Li’l Abner together? What ever happened to box lunch socials? Don’t answer that. I already know. They have been replaced with Facebook pages and on-line dating services. What a shame we have let such worthwhile personal interaction go by the wayside.
Maybe I have let life become too complicated. Maybe a large deck and a gas-fired grill have gone too far in replacing those special outings. Maybe I am just making excuses. Maybe I just need to go on a picnic.
