 | SubmarineSailor.com Find a Shipmate Reunion Info Books/Video | Binnacle List (offsite) History Boat Websites Links |
| |||
| Bottom Gun BBS | |||
| |||
| At random: The USS SKIPJACK was the first submarine designed from the keel up for top underwater performance using nuclear power. An earlier SKIPJACK was the first U.S. submarine to cross the Atlantic ocean under her own power (Newport, Rhode Island to Ponta Delgada, Azores, in 1917). |
 Back to Childhood Memories....Moderators: Jump to page : 1 Now viewing page 1 [25 messages per page] | |
| Forums-> Submarine Discussion | Message format |
dex armstrong |
| ||
COMSUBBBS Posts: 3202 Location: Alexandria, Virginia | Subject: Back to Childhood Memories.... Do you remember when EVERY lad carried a jackknife to school? Most kids carried BARLOW knives. They were best for playing playground jackkinife games...Mummbly peg, Root the peg, Splits, Territory and Three yer'out. Can you imagine that today? I can't remember ANY kid using a pocket knife as a weapon...That was simply unheard of. Carrying a jackknife was the first step on the road to adult responsibility...It involved trust and the acceptance that your Old Man thought you had reached the point in life and maturity where you were old enough to be trusted with your own knife. The incremental steps included a Daisy BB gun...later a single shot 22....and even later your own 30/30...Mine was a lever action and the day the old man called me into the kitchen and that Winchester 94 was there on the kitchen table, had to be one of the happiest times of my life. After dinner we drove out to the lake and squeezed off a few rounds. But, back to Barlow Knives....Playing "splits" I got a blade through the toe of my left Boy Scout shoe and in my foot. Playing splits was an expected part of an East Tennessee boyhood...it had absolutely nothing to do with acceptance of responsibility and everything to do with a southern boy's childhood. My Mom never noticed the hole, because every Sunday I filled the slit in with Ox Blood Kiwi. We whittled...carved our names in BB gun stocks, carved girl's names in the wooden tabletops in Kay's Ice Cream...trees...carved names in trees in the deep woods. We cut package string and opened letters....We carved apples and ate the slices off the blunt edge of an opened BARLOW....We carved neckerchief slides and other extremely important Boy Scout stuff shown in the HOW TO pages of Boys Life. (They would have these really complex projects and three illustrations showing how to make whatever it was....."Recreate a full 1 to 1 reproduction of Columbus's flagship...(A) Begin (B) step masts (C) Finishing touches. Boys Life would have simplified brain surgery and spaceship fabrication. Any of you other guys remember the days when a ten year old boy without a pocket knife was damn near nekkit? DEX | ||
| Boy Throttleman |
| ||
Old Salt Posts: 431 | Subject: RE: Back to Childhood Memories.... I and all my friends carried pocket knives from the time we were 5 and 6. in all those year I remember 1 misconduct with a knife. Kid down the road cut a school bus seat. We all told him he was dumb. And fighting using a knife was for cowards that lived in the big cities. How times have changed | ||
| Ralph Luther |
| ||
| COMSUBBBS Posts: 6180 Location: Summerville, SC | Subject: RE: Back to Childhood Memories.... Dex, you left out the Barlow being our A-#1 surgical tool. Used for lancing boils, toe nail surgey, gouging out splinters, gutting squerrils, rabbits, pheasants, cutting up bait and spreading peanut butter on a cracker. yum -yum those were the days. When we got to be bigger boys we substituded the Barrlow for a TL-29. | ||
| Pig |
| ||
| Plankowner Posts: 5024 Location: Gulfport, MS | Subject: RE: Back to Childhood Memories.... "...Any of you other guys remember the days when a ten year old boy without a pocket knife was damn near nekkit?" If you were also without a pocket full of marbles "just in case you found a game" and your most prized slingshotsticking out of your back pocket, which you had cut and carved (with your pocket knife, of course) from the Y of the neighbors oak tree, you were completly nekkit. I still have my slingshot. It's painted blue and yellow...made it while in Cub Scouts. | ||
| Gil |
| ||
| Master and Commander Posts: 1605 | Subject: RE: Back to Childhood Memories.... I think it all depends on where you were from. I grew up in the big city of LA. Never had a knife and never cared to have one, but I did get a Daisy 50 shot pump rifle on one birthday that I cherished and used to terrorize stray cats and dogs in the neighborhood. Me and my friends grew up playing baseball, football, and having war games in around sixth grades after school and on weekends. The Catholic priests let us use a football practice field of the local high school as long as we cleaned up around their seminary - that meant dumping their Ripple and Gallo wine bottles in the big trash cans. We made a fort in the corner of the lot and somebody got one of those big water gun cannons. We'd take turns defending and attacking the fort with our wooden swords and water baloon grenades. This went on until we got tired of rebuilding and tunneling under our fort. Unfortunately I never got a chance to see the country until my parents sent me to summer camp at 11. I hated the camp and the first weekend they visited I told them I wanted out and they took me home. That was the last time I went away to camp until Hunters Point boot camp and Sub School in the summer of 1966. Never saw any country around there, but I had a chance to visit San Francisco after boot camp graduation. Never saw any war protesters and the people treated us well. Great bars, great food and people even bought us drinks in those days. | ||
| Scrivener |
| ||
| Senior Crew Posts: 217 | Subject: RE: Back to Childhood Memories.... I was born in Southwest Iowa, where I lived until I was eleven. I have a vivid memory of receiving my first knife from Dad when I was seven. Both he and I recognized the occasion for what it was— a rite of passage. Over the next four years I don’t think that I was ever without a knife. I have pleasant memories of whittling while sitting next to our coal-burning furnace in our basement. I also recall visiting my aunt’s house with my father. While the men sat at the kitchen table drinking coffee and talking, I sat in the living room next to the wood-burning stove whittling a Christmas present for my mother. Thanks for setting off a train of good memories. | ||
| C Stafford |
| ||
| Senior Crew Posts: 226 Location: San Diego, CA | Subject: RE: Back to Childhood Memories.... Now you can't bring a knife near a school. When my son was in middle school, he was kicked out for having his Scout knife in his backpack, in his locker. I was so p***d at the Principle. She made it seem that my son was a mass murderer and she was doing the world a favor. Acoording to todays standards, we would all be career criminals by the time we were 10 years old. | ||
| Scrivener |
| ||
| Senior Crew Posts: 217 | Subject: RE: Back to Childhood Memories.... Speaking of Boy’s Life: Does anyone remember its advertisements for Cushman motor scooters? I used to spend entire afternoons just staring at that advertisement and dreaming of owning such a beautiful machine. Occasionally an add would appear for Vespa scooters, but in my elaborate eleven-year-old fantasy life, I remained loyal to my first love, the Cushman Scooter. | ||
| steamboat |
| ||
| Master and Commander Posts: 1814 Location: Boydton, Virginia | Subject: RE: Back to Childhood Memories.... Yep, I still carry an "Old Timer" pocket knife. And yes, I still feel nakid w/o it. Even when i go to church, it is in my pocket. And speaking of the Daisey Red Rider BB gun, musta been about 8 or 9 when I got mine. We had 4 boys in our family and used to "War" with them. I never could figure out what the little ring was on the side, until about 15 years ago when I got into Civil War Reenacting and bought a Sharps 54 cal. carbine (it hooks to a 2" sling carried over left shouler while mounted). Some things never change and hopefully never will (at least in MY lifetime). Steamboat sends | ||
| Doc Gardner |
| ||
Master and Commander Posts: 2253 Location: Foothills of the Ozarks | Subject: RE: Back to Childhood Memories.... I still carry a knife in my pocket everywhere. I always have to remember to leave it in my car when I travel. Airlines tend to frown on it these days. I've used it for damn near everything; from removing stitches in dumbs**t Marines and Sailors to skewering bits of sweet and sour chicken and the local Chinese Take Away. Wipe it off on your pants and it's good to go. Makes the non veteran a little squeamish but that's their problem.  | ||
| TSpoon |
| ||
| Great Sage of the Sea Posts: 561 | Subject: RE: Back to Childhood Memories.... Cub scout knife, Boy Scout knife, my Pops old Reington pocket knife, my Navy electricians knife, my Stiletto push button from Naples, all will be passed to my only grandson Jake. The only thing I ever recklessly cut was my own hand. Ouch! With 5 granddaughters I don't trust any of them with a sharp object.LOL What was the name of that game played with a jack knife? You would hold the point against different parts of your body and try to flip the knife to stick in the ground. The trick being to not hold it so close as to draw blood. Got my first Daisy Red Rider Christmas eve 1954. Took it out in the front yard and the only thing I could see to shoot was the street light on the corner. Took careful aim, pull the trigger, and pling I hit the light leaving a pock mark and big crack up the side. After reading Red Riders Creed on the side of the stock I felt guilty. That light stayed up there until I joined the Navy and I felt guilty every time I looked at it. The powers that be finally took pity on me and upgraded the lights sometime after I left boot camp. Hell, I still feel guilty about it.LOL. Gowing up we always had a couple of shotguns, 22's, and my grand dads old 30-30 hanging on the wall of mine and my brothers bedroom and we lived on the San Francisco Bay Peninsula. By todays standards we would be branded urban terrorists. A couple of years back I found a double barreled Daisy Red Rider at the local flea market for $35. Traded it to my sister in Idaho and found out later it is worht over $1,000. The first thing I rode after getting my drivers permit at age 15 1/2, the exact day, was an old cushman. Had that thing going 25 mph and havn't stoped since. If I still owned it it would be worth a few thousnad. Then marbles, still collect them and have over 12,000. Some are from Germany in the 1880s to 1890s and worth $25-50 each. I have a rather large latice core one, 2 1/2 inch diameter, that my Dad found under a house in 1921. Havn't really lost my marbles, just stil looking for them. T.Spoon, DBF | ||
| RCK |
| ||
| Master and Commander Posts: 1431 | Subject: RE: Back to Childhood Memories.... Mumbly Peg http://www.inquiry.net/outdoor/games/beard/mumbly_peg.htm | ||
| dex armstrong |
| ||
COMSUBBBS Posts: 3202 Location: Alexandria, Virginia | Subject: RE: Back to Childhood Memories.... Boy did some of these replies toss coal in the old memory machine. First off, Doc...wiping stuff on either your pants or shirt sleeve was the universal germ elimination process. You pinwheeled the ten ring with that one. Also, if you dropped something on the floor...or ANYWHERE other than the feed lot at the Chicago Stockyard or in a sewage plant and you simply picked it up and blew the germs off. The theory being that the short time between dropping whatever it was and picking it up was not long enough for germs to get a good toehold on whatever it was you were going to eat, that you could just blow the damn things off. This practice was not approved by The World Health Organization...The American Medical Association...and was not authorized for stuff like hotdogs dropped in a leper colony laundry. I once saw a sign in an East Tennessee greasy spoon that read,"When we wuz kids, we didn't worry a whole helluva lot about germs, we et em alive." That pretty well sums it up. It's the old, "If it don't kill ya, its gotta make you stronger." If so, we must have built up immunity that would have made us impervious to cobra bites and headhunter darts. Pig, we carried our marbles in our hip pockets in Prince Albert cans. Old Mr. Zahnd, who owned and ran Zahnd's Liquor and Dry Goods Store in St. Elmo, Tennessee had his pipe smoking clientel return their empty cans so knothead lads would have cans to haul marbles in. When me, Gus Wood, Sammy Northington, Felder Forbes and Hyter Haines were running, we sounded like a cross between a rattle trap Mexican bus and a Cuban Marimba band....There was a girl named Mary Davenport who cleaned out every playground shooter in school. Rumor had it that Mary Davenport had at least twenty 55 gallon drums full of marbles in her basement. She showed no mercy...just knuckled down and depleted your on hand inventory...She used a steely that had been a ball bearing she got from the PURE gas station at the foot of the mountain. Some kid said that her folks sent her to Europe to study under the World Champion Marble Shooter and that she even took marbles off him. As for yo-yo's...When I was a kid there was only ONE real genuine authentic competion approved yo-yo...the Duncan Yo-Yo...that came with one pack of genuine certified un-bees waxed strings. By third grade if you couldn't make it sleep...walk-the-dog...take it round-the-world...and have it bite you in the seat of your corduroys...folks sort of figured that you would end up as a homosexual in the New York City Ballet or some kind of hairdresser up North. Every year in the Spring this Phillapino guy showed up...he worked for Duncan and was some kind of yo-yo master. He could do tricks that only comic book heroes and members of Jesus's immediate family could do....He could talk and work two yo-yo's at the same time...He knew actual yo-yo magic...stuff that only guys who lived in the basement of the Duncan yo-yo plant could do. He sold really neat special...not normally available to the public, yo-yo's out of the trunk of his dented all to hell Plymouth. He had yo-yo's painted in metallic paint with four rhinestones...actual genuine rare rhinestones imbedded in the yo-yo....the kind real Princes in England used. He would carve whatever you wanted on your yo-yo, cept nekkit ladies if you were in elementary school and he was really smart...he could just look at you and tell that you were in elementary school...I later figured out that the sign on the front of the school said LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN ELEMENTARY SCHOOL...But this guy was smart, he didn't need to cheat and read signs...He was, according to Sammy Northington, directly decended from an Egyptian Pharoeh, that ended up dead in a museum. Sammy said he read it in the Weekly Reader. The guy was Really smart...REALLY...I asked him to do one of those buck nekkit wimmin on my yo-yo for my older brother...one of those high school hoochie-kootchie stark nekkit yo-yo carvings and he figured out that I was lying and didn't have a brother. Pharoeh kin can do that kinda stuff. At one time I owned three Duncans...a golden spinner fighting top....five High Flyer box kites...a Daisy Red Ryder Thousand Shot lever action BB gun, a Crossman pellet gun....a busted Staight Arrow official bow and arrow set (I kept it in the box it came in so Sammy and Gus wouldn't know I busted it)...I had two actual photographs of nude German women that Tommy Zilky's old man brought back from the war and he traded me for a stack of funny books. The pictures were a real crowd pleaser during trips to the library. Sammy had a Provident Life and Accident Insurance Company pocket calendar that he recorded how many times he'd seen his true love, Penny Jefferson's underpants when she was standing up on the swings...His Mom found out and he had to do a lot of unscheduled praying for his soul...We found out that taking an abnormal interest in girls undies could get you in the express lane to Hell...What ever happened to..."I see London, I see France...I see Mary Sue Robert's underpants." You mean, that got you a front row seat in the firey furnace? We were red-blooded Southern kids....We made roll yer owns out of our Weekly Readers, by tearing them into strips, rollong them around those phone pole size first grade pencils and packing them with Half in Half or Sir Walter Raliegh pipe tobacco using the withdrawn pencil for a ramrod...Great smoke. Really great when smoked in a coorogated metal runoff conduit. Another wonderful way to pass time was putting box turtles in Miss Martha's mailbox...She was the neighborhood "maiden lady" meaning she was an old maid with bladder control problems, not helped by the discovery of terrapin nesting on her mail when she opened her mailbox. We shot everything with our BB guns, including each other...We used the Tennessee Songbird book like an enemy aircraft identification manual....It was OK to shoot BlueJays...they killed little birds...They were the ME-109's of the birdbath. You shot em, and the ants ate them...and this was before Mutual of Omaha and Marlin Perkins brought you WILD KINGDOM taught you about the food chain...Me and Sambo should have gotten thank you cards from all the ants around Shingle Road. We used to hang around the barber shop and the back room at Zahnd's Store and listen to the recently returned combat vets talk about places only God and National Geographic ever heard about...Tarrawa...Quadulain...Truk...Guatalcanal...Tinnian...Iwo...Saipan...faraway places that were full of Japs, snakes, desease, booby traps, pill boxes....and all other kinds of assorted nastiness. You'd catch lines like..."Me and Bill Horton slid around behind him and shot the sonuvabitch outta the damn tree", "Heading into the beach an LCVP about a hundred yards ahead of us caught a direct hit and pieces of bodies came down in several boats in the second wave.", "We came in over Schweinfert and the goddam flakk was so thick you could get out and walk on it." "Me and Billy was pinned down in a ditch near some damn French town we couldn't pronounce and we spent the entire night keeping the goddam Krauts outta grenade range." They became our heroes...They had won the Big War. It was a great time to be a kid....We had the bomb and nobody...NOBODY had better mess with us...We'd seen all those hanged war criminals in LIFE MAGAZINE...the devistation left by the bombing of Germany and Japan....We had seen the long lines of our captured and defeated foes....We had seen the trains filled with returning GI's and had passed sandwiches made by the Episcopal alter guild, wrapped in wax paper and given to us to pass to the returning troops through train windows while they were stopped. We had heard the high school band play DIXIE for every train load filled with troops from the Tennessee 30th Division...We were Americans...and we had saved the world and brought peace and freedom to millions and millions yet unborn...We had restored freedom and dignity to the previously enslaved people of a large percentage of the world. You're damn right we were proud....and we had stuff taken off dead Japs and Nazi's by brothers, Dads, the barber...the guy at the filling station...to haul to school for show and tell....and we all hauled wash rags, toothbrushes, toothpaste, combs, bar soap and pencils to school to send to the poor deprived children in China...the same kids that five years later were pouring across the Manchurian border jackassing burp guns and field artillery to push a lot of kids who filled RED CROSS boxes, off the Korean penincela(sp). And my cousin Mike wrote me,"Dex, I roll over ever dead chink I come across looking for my wash rag." Mike still carries chunks of Chinese made shrap in his back and legs. Memories...they are wonderful gifts God gives you that you never get a bill for. They are the bonus you get for making it this far along the road of life. Thanks to all of you for the gift of returned scenes of a life lived...or eras survived...and the wonderful people we are touched by along the way. THANKS...DEX | ||
| TSpoon |
| ||
| Great Sage of the Sea Posts: 561 | Subject: RE: Back to Childhood Memories.... Thanks RCK, never knew that game had so many rules.LOL T.Spoon, DBF | ||
| Lee Davenport |
| ||
| Crew Posts: 92 | Subject: RE: Back to Childhood Memories.... Dex, You do bring back some memories.. My first pocket knife was given to me by a friend of my father. He and my dad were sitting on our front porch, talking. I came in from playing. He asked my if I had a pocket knife. I replied that I didn't, and He said it was time for me to have one, and he reached in his pocket, took out a knife and gave it to me... That made me think that he was a very kind and special man. And, slingshots. We used to have fights with them. Down this way, we have a tree called a "china berry". It has a hard green fruit on it that is not good for anything, except sling shot ammo.. I don't remember just how old I was when I got my first daisy bb gun, but it seems all my friends got one that christmas too. We used to have gunfights with them, while playing cowboys.. It is a wonder that none of us ever lost an eye. | ||
| Ralph Luther |
| ||
| COMSUBBBS Posts: 6180 Location: Summerville, SC | Subject: RE: Back to Childhood Memories.... Lee, that reminded me of our grapevine in the backyard. It was a Concord Grapevine and the grapes before they turned purple made for some real good slingshot ammo. When the grapes ripened it was pretty good ammo too. A little messy but when the purple grapes splattered on your "enemy's" clothes you knew that they were going to get a whippin when they got home. | ||
| Runner485 |
| ||
COMSUBBBS Posts: 2672 Location: New Jersey | Subject: RE: Back to Childhood Memories.... Being born and raised in NYC I was not allowed to have a knife. But in the navy I began carrying the electricians knife. It had the wooden handle and the screwdriver blade. I still carry a Swiss Army knife. Has only a few blades and fits real well in any pocket. Have been carrying it for about 25 years......I drive my wife crazy when she sees me cleaning my fingernails...(what else would I use) and then cutting an apple later on. Amazing what supposedly grown old men can rhapsodize poetically about..... | ||
| dex armstrong |
| ||
COMSUBBBS Posts: 3202 Location: Alexandria, Virginia | Subject: Glad I grew up in an age where Boys were trusted with knives. I couldn't survive in today's boys world. I'm not certain that a lot of this nicey-nicey stuff is good for American youth. What kind of world is it, that robs a lad of of adventurous risk? At Parris Island..the finishing school for hardened warriors, they now have safety nets festooned below all the obstical course stations. In certain physical training...men are required to wear safety belts to tether them to the cable they are required to decend. I'm sure it makes total sense but we played baseball wearing baseball caps...We learned to ride our bikes WITHOUT training wheels...We climbed trees...We shot BB guns...Shot off fireworks one level below weapons of mass destruction...We monkeyed with dangerous animals....smoked rum soaked Crooks....We chewed plug tobacco, threw up, and chewed some more....Boys were Boys and Girls were Girls...we found it worked better that way...Girls had long hair...boys didn't. Girls wore earrings...boys didn't....Sailors, Stevadores, Marine Gunnery Sgts, guys in prison, truck drivers and circus people had tattoos...girls didn't. There was no such thing as an exposed thong tee and upper fanny crack....Girls aspired to grow up to be ladies...not grow up to emulate Anna Nicole, Parris Hilton and the other ditsy airheads they follow today. No Sir...Being an old coot, I wonder what happened to our values...our generation....We had no large scale mercenary force...no men under private contract making a helluvalot more than men who altruistically serve under much harsher discipline and conditions for a fraction of what a merc gets...?? What's that all about? That's banana republic stuff...Beware of a ruler with access to a private army loyal to him and dependent on him for his pay. What happens if there's conflict between the armed mercenaries and the established force structure? When did we get into samantical doo-dah dances over the deefinition of what constitutes torture? How come it was damn clear up until a couple of years ago? When did we start allowing the public airwaves to be used by outfits selling "erotic sex toys" on late night TV...and showing graphic porno on cable shows? When did we reach a point where Friday night high school football games have to be policed by municiple police armed to the teeth? What happened to dignified high school graduations? Hooting hollering...one student mooning the audience...taped messages on mortar boards, one reading "F--k You" Where was authority and control lost? A gentleman who worked for me for twenty years lost his daughter...his lovely, wonderful, full of life daughter...his eleven year old daughter in a wreck caused by an incapacitated (newspaper term) undocumented (another newspaper term) Mexican immigrant...Who incidentally, has no means of support and remains in critical condition in a local hospital that is providing gratus care. We didn't have this stuff...We fought wars we funded with the sacrifice and belt tightening needed to buy bonds to support our troops...we collected junk for war materials....we played patriotic songs on the radio, composed by folks who wrote understandable lyrics and composed wonderful music...We didn't get in hock for trillions of dollars borrowed from an enemy....a nation now building an amphibious naval force. I grew up without a child's safety seat...I skated without a helmet, knee and elbow pads....I shot 22 long rifles at the dump....touched off fireworks purchased legally within a half mile of my front door, that could lift a Maxwell House coffee can high enough for it to return to earth two blocks away....My football heroes weren"t on steroids, dope...didn't rape women...or engage in dog fighting, bull baiting and cock fighting. They didn't wear fifty pounds of gold chains, pimp hats, white pointy toed shoes and fur coats. Nobody padded everything on a playground....You were expected to settle stuff by fighting...throwing two punches in mutual exchange then rolling around on the ground in a ritual that ended up with someone yelling "OK..OK..I give up."...You were expected to get the required number of black eyes, bloody noses, busted bones, bumps, bruises, cuts, scrapes and dings necessary to fill your boyhood qual card. You were expected to figure out carnal exchange and human reproduction in the back seat of a 56 Pontiac or equivalent....You signed up for the Draft and showed up when your name was called...Uncle Sam didn't hand you a wheel barrow of wampum or the promise of educational benefits....You went, did your duty and if you died, your nation welcomed you home in a box covered with the flag you died for. Your arrival was a public event and you weren't sneaked into Dover AFB hidden from public view. Kids played outside after school...they didn't park their butts in front of a TV and play electronic games. There were neighborhood games like Capture the Flag, Kick-the-Can, Steal the Bacon....Hide n Seek...and Posse and Prisoner....you played until bedtime. The water was fresh, clean and the best drink in town on a hot day....If you'd told someday they would be shelling out a dollar thirty a pop for bottled water, they would have carted you off to the looney bin. There wasn't a woman made who would have opened the door of a State Fair porta potty, taken one look and used it...You couldn't have gotten a woman in one of them with a large caliber handgun. No boy I grew up with would have eaten Captain Crunch or Lucky Charms...or any other of the weird cereals of today. We ate Wheaties, Nabisco Shredded Wheat...Quaker Puffed Rice and Wheat and Kelloggs PEP. In our day, CrackerJacks came with metal prizes.....and peanut butter didn't have hydroginated vegetable oil or any other fortified bulls**t...they made the stuff out of ground up peanuts. Cowboys had doubles who REALLY did the stuff we saw on the silver screen....and nobody was computer generated or animated. No girl would have been caught dead in a waterbra or fanny enhancing under garments. Our generation would have figured out that an automobile powered by an engine the size of the power module of an electric can opener did'nt need a spoiler and areodynamic body design. We opened doors for, gave up our seat on a bus for, stood up when introduced to and carried packages for ladies because you were expected to and to not do so would be a bad reflection on your Mother...And every boy loved and respected his parents. There were things every boy had to do, fall off the garage roof at least once...get the hell shocked out of him playing with a plugged in radio....getting caught in church shooting rubber bands with a clothespin gun....laughing a a black kid wearing a Johnson and Johnson "flesh colored" Band-Aid....putting an M-80 with a sparkler time fuse in a pile of dog poop....turn a couple of gerbils loose on the floor in the movie house during a horor film....and leave three open cans of sardines in your locker the last day of school. When we grew up it may very well have been the Goden Age of Kiddom. Once acgain...in the words of Bob Hope...Thanks for the memories. DEX | ||
| Jump to page : 1 Now viewing page 1 [25 messages per page] |
| Printer friendly version E-mail a link to this thread Jump to forum : |
| (Delete all cookies set by this site) | |
| Running MegaBBS ASP Forum Software v2.0 © 2003 PD9 Software | |
