Debbie Talley
Among Friends 

Daylight-saving time reminds me of the hour of sleep I have to sacrifice for an hour more of daylight. My children love this time of year because it means they get to stay outside longer. Though I can’t say I look forward to it, I do remember reveling in it when I was younger.

Mind you, I’m not talking about the 1930s and ’40s, nor am I talking about the ’80s and ’90s. To me, the ’70s and early ’80s were still a time when the cities where I grew up still seemed relatively sane.

You may have read an e-mail stating you know you’re a child of the ’70s if you remember playing the first video game, Pong, or if you saw the musical transition from eight-tracks to cassettes.

What I remember about growing up in the ’70s and ’80s are things like being barefoot and playing freeze tag in the front yard. A group of us neighborhood kids would put on our black-with-white-striped track shoes and walk around the corner to the nearby Stop ‘n’ Go. There we would buy a can of shoestring potatoes and wax syrup bottles to share while we took turns being mesmerized by our Whee-lo (magnetic spinning toy) or bruising our forearms and smashing fingers seeing who could go “around the world” with our Klik-Klaks.

Growing up in Texas, I remember late spring and early summer days hunting for horny toads in the creek down the road. You could pick them up, flip them over in the palm of your hand and rub their bellies until they fell asleep. They weren’t yet on the endangered species list; we always set them free. The same creek had an endless supply of tadpoles we would catch in jars and watch them grow into baby frogs.

On school days, I would come home from school to an after-school snack, catch an episode of “The Electric Company” and immediately head outside where I could find fresh pomegranates and pecans and play freeze tag with friends until dusk. We didn’t get homework until almost middle school and I still graduated with honors. If it were summer, we would lie in the cool grass and imagine shapes in the clouds. If you were fortunate, a ladybug would find its way to you — a sign of good luck. As the light grew dim and darkness crept over us, we would wait for the first flickers of light from fireflies so we could chase them across the lawn.

Those flickers of light, like the horny toad and creek up the street, are few and far between. It’s a special time when we see a firefly and I haven’t seen a horned toad since I was young.

So while I dread waking up an hour earlier every day, I’ll relish the memories and hope that some of the things that make Texas so special find their way into the lives of our children.

Debbie Talley, a Randolph Ro-Hawk, UTSA and Baylor alum, can be reached at: This e-mail address is being protected from spam bots, you need JavaScript enabled to view it