When I was little, it was Cops and Robbers and Cowboy and Indians! Then sometimes we tossed a touch of GI’s from America against Germany GI’s for good measure. The battle fields were the front yards of our homes and everyone always wanted to be either cowboy, cop or American, you know the good guy…
Most of the time your gun was just your hand and you used it as the most powerful gun ever made and it always was bad guy against good guy. Because what else was there? Good against evil and that made the world go around…
One thing that I can say is that we kids were outside and we played hard, died many times in battle and came back to life just as many times. Biggest important thing that I just said, “we kids were outside and we played hard”
Today while I walked the dog, Boza and I found ourselves in the middle of what had to have been 40 or 50 boys and they were all in a battle to beat battles. I am not sure who Russians fight when they play war and I did not ask. The group was made up of all boys and not a single girl was around, but personally, why would a girl want to play anyway? It was just a bunch of rotten boys and they were shooting everything in sight, including Boza and I. It was not there fault that we wandered into a war zone. Boza and I should have more sense than to cross into a battlefield…
I guess I need to ask Sveta who Russians war with when they are on the playground, but I sense that Sveta will look at me and say, “I am a girl and don’t do that stuff!” So my thoughts are that definitely no Cowboys and Indians on this side of the world and for that fact, I bet no Cowboys and Indians anymore on the other side of the world, either…
One thing that I see in Russia, the parents kick their kids outside and make them go play. You see kids everywhere this time of the year. The weather is good and in Russia kids have enough bad weather to keep them inside, so you definitely make them go outside and run like crazy, when you can. On top of that, kids and adults here do not have that TV embedded into their heads like Western people do. Also people here are not scared to let their kids run all day, free as a bird…
So Boza and I escaped alive from the war zone and as we left we watched a few minutes…
I have to say it brought back memories…
No one wanted to die when shot and everyone got back up to die again within a few seconds. I realized how much playing war as kids is like a video game now days. You die and then come back alive, as many times as you want, but the one good thing is that playing outside is good for you and playing a video game inside is bad for you, physically…
Boza looked at me and I said, “Yes Boza! Humans are weird!”
Then we left to continue our walk and contemplate life…
Kyle and Boza
Windows to Russia…