'Don't pave paradise, or put up a parking lot'

My grandmother Weeks was a worrier’s worrier. She was so scared of life that she forbade her children (including my father) from learning to swim, among many other things. She was worried that her children would drown, however unlikely that scenario appeared.

Ironically, knowing how to swim is one of the primary things that will save your life if you find yourself in the water.

Go figure.

My father was one of three children, with an older sister Margaret and a younger brother Donald completing the family. Anyone who has both a boy (or boys) and a girl (or girls) knows what happened with the swimming ban imposed by their mother. The boys, being boys, snuck off to the creek post haste and learned to swim. My Aunt Margaret, being a good person, stayed home and never did learn to swim. She was terrified of water the rest of her life.

This turned out to be a fortunate, if predictable, turn of events for the boys. My dad ended up in the Navy during World War II. It’s a really good thing to know how to swim if you’re in the Navy, it turns out. Ask anyone who’s enlisted. My Uncle Donald was also in the military, and I have reason to believe he was also grateful to have acquired aquatic skills previously. In his case it might have mostly been because of skinny dipping, but still....

For some strange reason, the other major worry for my grandmother was roller skating. This was big in its day, believe it or not young people, and absolutely everybody owned a pair of roller skates. Even my aunt.

Seeing the inevitable writ large before her very face, Grandma Weeks gave in to the skating mania by allowing her children to don their skates and give it a whirl. However, they were forbidden from skating on the driveway or other pavement. Only on the lawn, which was certainly less conducive to gaining any kind of speed.

That’s right, three young people were permitted to skate, but only on the lawn! This is the sports equivalent of kissing one’s sister, or worse. I can see my grandma watching the kiddies slipping on the grass ineffectually, plotting how many chickens to kill for dinner.

Despite all the admonitions to stay out of the water, skate safely and so on, the kids (being central Missouri farm kids) all rode horses daily, milked cows and took part in similar activities. Now I ask you, which is more dangerous: riding a horse or skating on asphalt?

Very few kids these days live on a farm, so I wondered what things the modern parent might worry about? I can imagine several:

• Don’t text while you’re on that slippery tile floor!
• Never Skype while driving!
• I told you not to put a GoPro on Buster!
• How many times do I have to tell you, no phone calls in the shower!
• Quit skateboarding in the yard, go to the skate park!

This last concern reveals that things have come full circle, and the yard is once again dangerous. They’re considering paving paradise.

About R.W. Weeks

Rob is a retired Southern Illinois University Instructor who lives on his family’s farm in Union County, Illinois. His mother Joan, lives in

Cape Girardeau.