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Discussion in 'Other Reminiscences' started by Ken Anderson, Sep 17, 2022.
Namaste Beth, no eyebrows and crispy bangs sucks. Fortunately, they grew back. LOL.
Being a kid we think we're indestructible, but now a new ache is frightening. I'm really under the weather this week with this sinus thing going around. Hubby is sick too with same trhing so excuse me if I don't get into too much. Namaste John.
Do I ever agree with you about feeling indestructible when we were younger! I thank the Higher Power that I survived my first 20 years of life. A couple of very close calls for me. I can't believe I was that stupid! Sorry to hear about your sinus issue. Hope the two of you feel better soon. Namaste Marie.
Thank you, John, and so do I. This is not your everyday sinus thing.
We really took some risk when we were young and yes, we should be thankful we survived ourselves.
Although I hope that kids on farms still do that, we'd learn to drive tractors at a very young age. In fact, my dad had a large tractor, which I think was a Farmall, and he also had a small Ford tractor, which was usually the one that I drove, although I drove the large one as a kid, too. That, and driving the farm truck from field to field. As far as riding in the bed of a pickup truck, I think the laws vary from state to state on that one. While I was living in Texas, the legislature moved to ban that but they ended up leaving it legal for kids over twelve, but illegal on highways, or something like that.
When I was around twelve, my dad paid me and my cousins to tear down the old barn. It was a full-sized barn, and we tore it down with wrecking bars and sledgehammers. He really didn't need to pay us, as we'd gladly have done that for nothing. To top it off, we got to burn the old wood after we were done.
Growing up in Brooklyn I don't have any of the interesting farm/country stories like those posted here, except for the alligator wrestling in the sewers, just kidding, but I did participate in dangerous activities that adults didn't seem to mind.
Down the block I lived on, directly across Morgan Ave. was a deserted warehouse with a large yard that had a large dock with barges tied up. On weekends we played Tag jumping back and forth between the dock and the barges, it was part of the Newtown Creek, we never got chased by any of the the adults that happened by. Falling into that water was a death sentence, it was the consistency of black oily muck. We also played in the abandoned warehouse on the property where "Bums" lived.
We use to hitch a ride by jumping on the back of buses, it was a great way to get around, and it was free.
There where the "Street Games" like Punch Ball, Stick Ball, and Touch Football to name a few, we we're constantly stopping to avoid traffic.
Then there was playing under the water of the Johnny Pump (Fire Hydrant), running around barefoot on a Brooklyn Street is not the smartest thing. The water would flow along the curb like a fast stream. Once while wading in stream the bottom of my foot was in excruciating pain, I saw a red streak flowing from my foot, there was a slit with a piece of glass sticking out. My parents tried to get it out with needles and tweezes to no avail, I wound up in the ER of St Catherine's Hospital. The nurse that worked on me inflicted so much pain that it took two priest and my father to hold me down. She kept cutting and digging and finally got the piece of glass out, it wound up being what look like the bottom of a test tube. The Whole foot was wrapped and I had to get use to crutches could not put any pressure on my foot for awhile.
We used to go swimming at night at the rock quarry. The signs saying "no trespassing", fines and/or jail time didn't deter us! Kids would brag about how they went to the quarry and didn't get caught!
Also used to go tobogganing down hills on the side of the highway. We couldn't afford to go the toboggan park so we used cardboard and slid down the hills, trying not to smash into trees. Then we'd climb back up the hill, pass around the wine bottle, and do it again.
You may not have grown up in the country but your life sure wasn't un-eventful. City life can be just as fun as country just in different ways, Movies, roller rinks parks and lots of friends. In the country you have to import friends. ￼ except for an occasional spend the weekend thing.
Just like the farm kids, being a man-child to a dad who crafted in wood and in the construction business, I wasn’t given toy sets of tools to play with but rather, I had to learn to use the real deals at a very early age.
At 6 and already big for my age, I was handling a bandsaw, jointer, table saw, skilsaw, crosscut saw etc along with the other men but being the kid, I also had to clean up the shop at the end of the day.
It was during clean-up that I was allowed to make my own stuff like book shelves and stuff without anyone watching. I knew my way around the shop so dad left me alone.
Other than that, I did all the things that a boy was expected to do like climb trees, playing hardball and being at bat with no helmet, swimming in the Mississippi river sans a parental overseer, sword fighting with sticks, jumping off a ladder with a piece of cloth around my neck to be like superman.
The last bit did confirm that it isn’t the fall but the landing that hurts.
To think back, perhaps wanting to don the cape of superman and fly was a foretelling of my future endeavor as an Army Airborne soldier. At least I learned how to land properly.
It wasn't always easy growing up in Brooklyn , I remember one time I had to take on 10 hoodlums, it took nine to pull me out of the tree and one to kick the...... out of me. HAHA
You're right doesn't matter what the environment around you is, it's up to you to make the best of where you live, remember the grass isn't always greener.
Country kids had lots of tree adventures. I was up in a tree playing Jane beat my chest and dove " down" to lower limb, my cousin went screaming Aunt Mary, Marie is dying. I hit the ground like a rocket and could not breath.
I bet you remember swing blades too.
That is so true, we take things for granted and only realize how lucky we were when we look back.
LOL, yeah, getting your breath knocked out wasn’t the best of experiences for sure.
In that vein of thought, I was messing around with one of those turnstile clotheslines and somehow I swung off one of the lines and found myself straddling the center pole.
As a female, I know you can’t possibly imagine the first time a boy “racks” himself up but I not only lost my breath but thought I had seriously damaged myself to the extent that I just knew my life was over.
As I remember, it was probably the first time I uttered out loud a few expletives that my dad was so famous for saying.
I can’t remember which comedian said it but he did point out that boy’s bicycles have that top crossbar specifically to give us a painful realization that we’re different than girls.
More than a few boys have bitter remembrances of coming into contact with that thing when sliding off the pedals.
Note: I do notice that more boys are riding girl’s bikes and I don’t have to wonder why.
Now, If you’re talking about a blade that is used to cut weeds with, I used one as a kid and as a matter of fact, I bought one about 6 years ago and still use it occasionally.
Oh my I can understand since I grew up with mostly boys, brothers and cousins.