Allan's Alley

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Who says you can't be a kid all your life? Allan's Alley is written by Allan Dash, a 65-year-old Philadelphian who's still trying to decide what he wants to be when he grows up. Come ride your tricycle in "Allan's Alley", where childhood memories rule!

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July 25, 2005 -- Learning from a giant…

About Allan's Alley...

My father used to say it was easier for him to remember things that happened five decades ago than things that happened five days ago. As I grow older, I know what he meant. Part of the reason for this selective memory pattern is undoubtedly physiologic, but I think the main reason is simply this: it’s a lot more fun to remember life when you were young and full of energy, optimism and Wheaties, Breakfast of Champions.

When I retired early last year after 40 years as a marketing scribe, I began volunteering in the alumni office of a Philadelphia prep school that took up entirely too much of my valuable time between the ages of five and 18. While much has changed about the old place since my graduation back in ‘57, much remains the same. And the more time I spend there, the more the old memories come flooding back -- of teachers, classmates, athletic events, dances, drag races, detentions, you name it. Over the last 18 months I seem to have developed a severe and chronic case of nostalgicitis, from which I have no particular interest in recovering.

Imagine my delight when I stumbled upon Jason Kotecki’s charming, gentle and funny “Kim & Jason” web site, a Nostalgia Nook if there ever was one. As soon as I discovered “The Chalkboard,” I began deluging poor Jason with one tintype reminiscence after another, fully expecting him to cry “Enough, already!” at any moment. Instead, he was inexplicably enthusiastic, and we were soon cyber discussing the idea of my writing a periodic column for K&J.

And so here it is (drum roll, please): Allan’s Alley.

Little did I realize it at the time, but this strange moniker was born in the early 1940s, when my family and I lived in a semi-detached house with an alley running behind it which was shared by all the neighbors. Alleys like this were used for all kinds of things: changing the oil, hanging out the wash, catching up on gossip and war news, taking a shortcut to the Victory Garden, and -- most important, of course -- participating in frequent tricycle races in which yours truly was usually a close second. Come to think of it there were only two competitors, but my friend Larry was two years older and could really push those pedals. (Today, he’d undoubtedly be known as the Lance Armstrong of Barringer Street.)

So welcome to Allan’s Alley. If you forgot your tricycle, you can ride mine. Just don’t tell my mom.

G. Allan Dash
Elkins Park, PA