THE KENNYWOOD PICNIC

Mid to late May was usually the time for the Kennywood school picnic for Forest Hills students. It was one of the highlights of my school years.

Now, I've written about Kennywood before and still haven't gone into how it came to be. That's a story for another day. Today's blog is strictly about the annual school picnic and the assortment of plusses and minuses contained therein.

One minus was that even as a young kid I took on more responsibility than my buds. Therefore, I had to leave Kennywood early. Despite this act of youthful responsibility I still would be beleagured by the complaints of my newspaper customers who resented not having their paper delivered at the expected hour by "ole reliable Barry".

Sometimes I lucked out and could get a Catholic School buddy to take my route for the day. But, even he got smart. He sought out new friends with public school credentials who could score more than the allotted number of school picnic tickets and take him along.

Another drawback of Picnic Day was that I couldn't as much as ride on our porch glider for any sustainable period of time. I suffered from serial motion sickness.

For a kid with this drawback, Kennywood was more of a rite of passage - an opportunity to prove that this skinny guy was not "chicken." I heard the cries - got on the rides - threw up - and then headed off by myself for something tamer like "Noahs Ark", "The Olde Mill," or "Laff In The Dark" - rides that didn't spin around or go up and down. There, I was Billy Batson incarnated. S-H-A-Z-A-M!

By this time The Rocket ships had done me in as had the Caterpillar Ride that spun me around under the heavy and hot tarp covering. Even The Racer - the mildest of the rollercoasters - did not treat me well. Yet, I tried them each year for the reason given above and also to see how I was progressing with my malady.

How I dreaded a day when I was told I was either too tall or too old to ride upon the less threatening rides of the Kiddieland section. Oh man, in addition to the Merry-Go- Round, I would ride them forever as long as my buddies couldn't see me. If someone asked I told them my parents forced me to ride with my brothers and my cousins. Who knew what they looked like?

The rocking socking ride on the old square yellow streetcars transporting us kids from Forest Hills out to Kennywood was my warmup for the rides in the Park. It had reversible seats and locked windows that preserved the hothouse experience throughout the journey.

There were pluses too. First off, it was a day when you didn't have to go to school. It was also a time when chances were good you were going to get a new pair of dungarees and maybe even some new tennies.

We were upper class poor and the new clothes were a treat . The tennies were a big step up from wearing Dad's way- too- short street shoes. After wearing them for a while they usually ended up having to be held together with one or more "gumbands" across each instep. Therefore, they didn't flap when I walked - suggesting the arrival of Spike Jones band. I was so proud of my new high top tennies.

Another bonus was finding a girl who you had a crush on sitting on a park bench by herself. I was an "early cruiser" - way ahead of my time.

Kennywood Picnic Day was also the day when Mom would make homemade pimento cheesespread sandwiches, white cupcakes with chocolate frosting, and bring more than one bag of Wise Potato Chips for us to share. We also had refreshment tickets with which we could purchase chocolate milk and soft ice cream.

I know this to be true as I saw all of these food articles more than once each School Picnic Day.

Despite this Kennywood was a happening for me and it proved a couple of things:

If you just hang in there, at some point in your life you no longer have to prove to anyone you're not chicken".

It also reminds me, as a aging septugenarian, that nothing is ever as bad as it appears when you're going through it.

Wouldn't mind revisiting Kennywood on a future visit to Pittsburgh.

Just don't ask me to get on any of the rides.

I'll wear my new tennies.