Paul Simon sang — “When I think back on all the crap I learned in high school it’s a wonder I can think at all. And though my lack of education hasn’t hurt me none I can read the writing on the wall.”
I’m not exaggerating when I say my high school years were the worst four years of my life. Most everything I needed to learn I learned in kindergarten, picked up a thing or two as late as 8th grade, but I didn’t learn Jack Shit in grades 9 through 12. I had few friends. It was so bad, as you will see in the pictures below, not even Da Gooberment tried to protect me!
What they tried to teach me was mostly a Big Pile Of Bullshit. Here, let Pete Seeger ‘splain it to you in under two minutes.
It’s not that I wanted a lot of government protection. Eddie Billian (actual name), a wannabe jockfuk, picked on me almost every single day. I used to daydream about cutting off his hands in shop class. I would have been happy if they let me get away with just that, a Justifiable Amputation. Even after all these years … Eddie, if you’re reading this just know that if I ever run into you, I’m going to kick you in the fuck.
Unfortunately, we now have laws governing ………. everything. Laws we couldn’t even have imagined back in my day. Somewhere along the line we gave up our right to choose even simple things, and allowed the government to impose their standards upon us. As you read this, just ask yourself one question: —–“When will we tell the government we would rather die, than continue to be their mindless slaves?”
WHEN did we say, “To hell with this?”
We need to REVIVE this attitude!
OK, let’s get started.
“Be careful, Stucky, that can put your eye out!”
That was the extent of the warning my mom gave me. Back in my day, there were well over 200 activities that could put your eye out! But, virtually none that could kill you. How much fun can a game be if there isn’t at least a small chance of death?
So, the kids on our block played an interesting version; each of us would get one jart and at the same we’d throw it straight up in the air as high as we could, and then we’d dodge the incoming hail of plastic and steel … the idea being to wait to dodge the missile until the very last possible second. One time a jart buried itself into Angelo Falcone’s foot, and he started to cry when blood oozed through his white Converse sneakers …. not because it hurt, but because his father was gonna kill him for messing up his sneakers!
It’s been shown that the business end of a jart can land with a force of several thousand pounds of pressure per square inch. Seriously. We Boomers may have ruined America, but we surely weren’t pussies.
By my own estimate, I believe jarts were thrown about 138.4 Billion times by 1987. In April 1987, seven-year-old Michelle Snow was killed by a lawn dart thrown by one of her brothers’ playmates in the backyard of their home in Riverside, California. She should have ducked. Previously, only two other children died. So, 138.4 Billion throws … 3 dead … do the math. Mr. Snow went on a crusade and by 1989 Congress banned jarts, again, but this time forever.
In one respect, I suppose it’s nice that in America one person can still make a difference. On the other hand, one person gets their way almost always at the expense of thousands of others. Isn’t this tyranny by the few?
In the news today the town of Westminster, MA (pop: 7,000) banned the sale of any and all tobacco products ….. a decision made by a THREE MEMBER Board Of Health. Three people who don’t give a damn that the overwhelming majority of the town does not support this action. Why …. that’s almost as bad as 317 million Americans being ruled by 535 criminals in Congress.
“Mind if I smoke?” “Yes?” “Tough shit!”
Back in my day, it seemed like everyone smoked. Watch an old episode of Perry Mason; Perry and Paul Drake smoked constantly … murderers smoked while murdering. Doctors smoked while delivering babies. You could smoke in a supermarket, in an airplane, or any restaurant. Teachers smoked. Students smoked in the bathroom. Doctors smoked Lucky Strikes. Even Father Joseph at my Catholic school, St Peter’s, smoked while greeting Sunday parishioners.
Asking “Mind if I light up?” was a mere formality. No one dared say, “No!” for fear of being labeled a pussy. Smokers smoked and there was zero lack of concern for those who didn’t smoke. Smokers weren’t forced outside …. non-smokers were! Those were the good old days of ‘IN YOUR FACE!’. It was a world full of adults who didn’t have anxiety attacks over a thousand different “safety” issues.
Normal kids didn’t wear helmets!
Whether riding a bike, or roller skating, or skateboarding …. NO ONE wore a helmet. If you did, your social life would have been over, kaput, finito … an outcast, destined for humiliation and abuse … especially in gym class. There were only two groups that wore helmets; football players and the mentally retarded. (Our own poster, bb, wore a helmet … and he wasn’t a football player.)
“Seat-belt? What’s a seat-belt?”
My dad’s first two cars didn’t have seat-belts. My first car, a 1958 Pontiac Chieftain, didn’t have seat-belts. When we did get cars with seat-belts, we didn’t wear them. They were a pain in the ass. Belts were made to hold up your pants, not bind you up in a seat. Child seats? Never heard of them. When we brought my new baby sister home from the hospital, my mom just threw her in the back seat … with me. I did put a Teddy Bear on the edge of the seat to keep her from falling off.
Sure, I’ll agree that seat-belts save lives. But, that’s not the point. It should be a PERSONAL decision … not one forced upon you. Besides, the gooberment doesn’t give a rats ass about your life …. otherwise they wouldn’t have sent 100,000+ young men to their deaths in various adventurous wars since WWII. Nosiree. “Click-it or ticket” is all about extracting more money from your wallet into theirs.
“Let the sunshine in!!”
In case you didn’t read the ad … you must;
“Tanfastic lets the sunshine in. It’s not loaded up with sunburn protection like old folks and kids want. Tanfastic’s for you 15-to-25 year olds who can take the sun. Especially if you want to get superdark. Superfast.”
Got that? Back in my day we did NOT try to BLOCK the sun. Oh, no!! The goal was to AMPLIFY the sun’s rays. Get dark, baby .. real, real dark!! Screw that sun-screen shit. The only people who went the sunscreen route were those with medical conditions … like, albinos. My sister (I swear!) used to smear herself with butter. Other women (like, Nancy Pelosi) used Crisco. I swear that’s true. Back then few ever asked, “What could go wrong?” If it feels good, do it, and being a Darkie felt reeeeal good.
YOU MUST WATCH YOUR CHILD AT ALL TIMES OR HE/SHE WILL …..…. DIE!!!!
Sadly, that’s the world we live in today. I’ve seen parents hook up their children with what looks like a dog leash. A few weeks ago we went out to eat with Ms. Freud’s son and family. It was a nice day, so we ate outside in the patio area. As it so happened her grandson, Andrew, wandered off …. a few feet behind another table … when his mommie started freaking the fuck out … “WHERE’S ANDREW!! WHERE’S ANDREW!!!!!!”. It was so goddamn embarrassing, you have no idea.
During summer vacation from school, somewhere around 9AM I would proudly announce, “I’m going out to play!” Mom’s only response, “You better be home by dinner!” …. which was 6PM. Yeah, nine hours of unsupervised activity. Oh, you should know … I lived in Newark, NJ. I would wander literally MILES from home … either to Weequahic Park (a two mile walk), or to my best friend’s house in Irvington (a five mile bike ride … no helmet). Sometimes my dad would take me shopping to the lumber yard, hardware store, etc., and if I was a pain in the ass, meaning, I’d pester him to buy me shit, well … he would just leave me in the car once we arrived at the destination. Sometimes that happened during 100 degree weather. BOTH my parents would have been arrested, dozens of times, in today’s environment. I think it was Pogo who said, “We have met the enemy, and it’s us.”
“QUIT BEING A BABY!!”
That’s what my dad said when he was teaching me to ride a bicycle, and I was doing just fine, and then the sumvabitch let go, and then I freaked out, and then I fell, and then I scraped my elbow and hand badly enough to draw blood, and then I cried, and then yeah he said “Quit being a baby!”, and then mom came running and spit (yes, spit) in a hanky and then tied it around my arm with her kerchief (yes, kerchief), and then I got my (then) skinny ass back on the bike and then learned to ride it THAT very day. Our “first aid” kit consisted of Band-Aids and a bottle of iodine.
See the kid in the picture? He’s about to have his nuts rammed by a goat. See the adults? They think that’s funny as shit. We were tough back then.
“mm-mm Good! Crap food builds strong bones!!”
Do you know the nutritional value of white bread? I’ll tell you. Less than zero. In other words, eating it actually extracts needed minerals and vitamins from your body. Wilson’s Mor was originally named Wilson’s Moron … cuz you gotta be a retard to eat it; pig’s head, snout, cheek meat, and even tongue. Their motto is “everything but the squeal” Yummy!!
As a child, I did not know one single adult, ever, who was concerned about getting this or that vitamin, or this or that mineral … except in commercials. We ate some of the crappiest “food” ever invented. Yet, we survived, and even thrived.
Compare yesteryear to Moochelle’s Mandated gooberment lunch. Below is a picture taken earlier this week by Darrel Bunch, a senior at Haskell High School in Oklahoma. WTF???
You call THIS progress?? Gimme some Wilson’s Mor!!!
And Lastly …
There were no homos in the Boy Scouts
Not that there’s anything wrong with that. It was better that way. And that’s all I have to say about that.
T4C says:
We were the lucky ones. We experienced what is now a fairy tale. How do those fairy tales begin?….something like “Once upon a time….”
Nice post.
13th November 2014 at 12:42 pm
Bostonbob says:
Awesome Stucky. We drank raw milk from our own goats (4-H), sprayed currently banned pesticides on own own vegetables, mowed the lawn with a lawn mower that had no safety gadgets, climbed as high as you could in trees, wandered around in the woods for hours on end, drove farm equipment, ran cement mixers, handled power tools and machinery, and ate damn near anything we wanted. All of these I and my three brothers experienced by the age of 12. They are all still alive, over 50, still married to their first and only wives, have healthy well adjusted children who all have jobs. Maybe we were just lucky, you know white privileged, but I don’t think so.
Bob.
13th November 2014 at 12:58 pm
DaPerfessor says:
Stucky –
Dropped on by the BP while I kicked back a mo’ with a cuppa joe. Great job, man!
I grew up the same way in Chicago. Being attracted to hazard, and a bit of klutz, the most common parental reaction to my return from unsupervised play was:
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, what did you do now?” Immediately followed by:
“No, stay in the kitchen on the linoleum – I don’t want you messing up the carpet.”
I fondly recall the true love and affection in that attitude.
Thanks again!
DaP
13th November 2014 at 12:59 pm
starfcker says:
Florida fish and game taught riflery with .22s at summer camp when i was 10 or 11. The safe hunter certificate they gave me qualified me for concealed carry years later. We rarely left the house without our bb guns or bow and arrows. Our idea of fun was fighting with roman candles and garbage can lids. We weren’t quite pussies.
13th November 2014 at 1:18 pm
ThePessimisticChemist says:
My favorite games as a kid were as follows (in order):
1) Rock wars – There was a construction lot nearby full of dirt clods and gravel. We would throw them at each other as hard as possible while pretending to be soldiers or cowboys and robbers (nobody wanted to be a cop or an indian)
2) Sink the can – Throw an empty can into the creek or pond. Throw rocks at it or shoot with bb guns until it sinks. Rinse, repeat. Bonus points awarded for accidentally hitting someone with a rock.
3) Dam it! – Build a dam across the creek and play with turtles/frogs. Bonus points for luring in an adult with your swear words “Lets play ‘Dam it'”. Points withdrawn if you got your ass paddled. All good kids should be a clever enough smartass that dad lets you get away with the occasional swear word. “But Dad, I was building a dam!”
4) Timber – We chopped down trees using hatchets and rope. Frequently this crossed over into “Dam it” and almost always led to #5 on our list.
5) Sword fight – “Fence” with sticks. Pretty much just beat the shit out of each other with big sticks. Willow switches also worked.
13th November 2014 at 1:19 pm
JAH666 says:
Oh yeah, I should’a died long ago! Everyone I knew growing up in the bayou country of south Louisiana should’a died too. We swam in the polluted waters of Lake Pontchartrain and ate the fish we caught from that lake. We rode bikes without helmets up and down huge piles of clam shells that used to be dredged up out of the lake and were used for road building. If you fell off when plummeting down one of those piles, yeah, you could get pretty chopped up and we did. Our moms did like yours, patched us up with iodine and bandaids. If we weren’t bleeding it was ususally, “You’re okay, go back out and play!”
13th November 2014 at 1:41 pm
KesTwo says:
Wow – I can agree with SO MUCH here! I grew up on Long Island, and our favorite place to ‘hike it’ was the woods inside the easement fence near the parkway – accessible through two holes that you had to be initiated to find. Gone for hours at a time with enough chang to buy a drink and a Bonomo’s taffy bar (they lasted the longest) at the candy store across from the elementary school. Home by dark. Playing kickball in the street was fun, too – all sides retired to the curb when a car would come by – using garbage can lids for bases. Too much traffic resulted in a fierce game of Dodge Ball on someone’s front lawn, which made it easier to fall down. The only time I remember an injury resulting in a doctor visit was when I fell off my two-wheeler bike – I ran into the house asking to go to the doctor because I had just broken my arm, Every other injury was greeted with “what now?” and treated with Bactine (which, contrary to the ads, DID sting) and bandaids – and I was then told to go back outside and be more careful. Helmets? Knee pads? We didn’t need no stinkin’ helmets!
13th November 2014 at 2:02 pm
Billy says:
@ Stucky and all the other posters…
God bless all y’all…
Made me smile for the first time today. Thanks.
Jarts! Man, we loved Jarts! We quickly learned that throwing them overhand at stuff – including each other – was pretty good fun… if you got hit? Well… ya shoulda ducked.
I miss my Big Wheel… anyone else have a Big Wheel?
Our old house was at the bottom of a steep hill (it’s Kentucky… what are the odds?). We’d all get together and push our various rides to the top of the hill and then race to the bottom. No brakes. You’d be surprised how fast a Big Wheel will go. Didn’t give a shit about a car coming the other way, either… had to ditch a couple times and ended up under a parked car or two, but whatever…
You could jam the pedals and use the front wheel as a brake, but that would throw you into a flat spin. Plus, over time, you got a big flat spot on the front wheel, which just rattled the shit out of you when going down that hill… and it was loud as hell, too. Didn’t care for the tassels, so I tore those off. Too “girly”.
BB gun wars, bottle rocket fights, rock wars, climbing trees… the city hated us because we would trespass onto constructions sites and steal lumber. We used the pilfered lumber to build a gigantic treehouse that spanned the creek down near Foote Avenue… took us all summer to build. Took the city 3 days to tear down when they found out about it…
Me, Matty and Gene were fucking around in a construction site, looking for lumber and Gene hopped up into the cab of a bulldozer. Started fucking with the controls and jammed a screwdriver into the ignition… Matty pressed a button and the damn thing started… Gene abandoned the dozer just as it shoved over a pile of lumber and we hauled ass when we saw the cops coming down the service road…
Actually “got arrested” at 11 because we were pissed off the city destroyed our woods to put in a subdivision. 6 of us – Me, Nick, Rusty and a few others – were using our “Fat Albert” wiffle ball bats to smash rocks down on the construction crew…. you could take a knife and cut the end off the bat, stuff it with old rags, duct tape it back up and smash rocks really far…… apparently, the construction crew didn’t like being bombed with rocks the size of hen’s eggs… the cops came and “arrested” us…
Last thing…
My boy and his buddies were having an “Airsoft war” in and around our barn. About a half hour goes by and my boy comes back in… he’s got this look on his face…
Me: “What’s wrong with you?”
Him: “Nothing…” (obviously something)
Me: “No, I’m not putting up with that… what’s wrong?”
Him: “I got shot.”
Me: “Yeah? So?”
Him: “Well, it hurts.”
Me: “Well duh! It’s an Airsoft war.” Where’d you get hit?”
Him: “Here.” (shows me a welt/bruise the size of a nickel on his thigh)
Me: “You want me to get your bunny slippers?”
Him: “Hey! Jacob shot me at two feet! It hurts!”
Me: “Whoopty shit. I got shot in the throat with a 9mm “Sim” round… suit up, get your ass back out there and dish out some payback!”
I’m happy to say he did…
13th November 2014 at 2:02 pm
Stucky says:
True Story.
I was about 11 years old when my mom took me shopping to Valley Fair (a now defunct discount store). So, much to my mom’s chagrin, I’m running around the store to and fro, and just before I get to my mom, I trip over an electrical cord, and fall **SPLAT** right on my face. My nose was badly bloodied, blood everywhere, really … but not broken. The worst part was that I chipped off about 1/3 of my front tooth. A manager immediately came running to my aid, all worried and semi-freaking out …. and … and …. my mom APOLOGIZED TO HIM … that I was so unruly and made a bloody mess on his clean floor! The she gave me a damn hard smack upside the head (really) and said, “Serves you right! Maybe you learned something today!”. And I didn’t get that tooth fixed until years later …. when I was in the Air Force, cuz it was free.
13th November 2014 at 2:09 pm
Billy says:
“Jarts” now…
What a bunch of fags….
13th November 2014 at 2:16 pm
Stucky says:
I wasn’t sure if this post about my silly observations would get any traction. I think I was wrong.
I am LOVING these stories from all of you!!!! Great stuff.
I hope everyone shares a story or two … even bb.
Mor!!!!!!!
13th November 2014 at 2:17 pm
Bostonbob says:
Billy,
That really made me laugh.
Thanks,
Bob.
13th November 2014 at 2:22 pm
Billy says:
@ Stucky
“…and just before I get to my mom, I trip over an electrical cord, and fall **SPLAT** right on my face. My nose was badly bloodied, blood everywhere, really … but not broken. The worst part was that I chipped off about 1/3 of my front tooth.”
Sooo, the floor was okay, right?
13th November 2014 at 2:24 pm
Stucky says:
Billy
First, I’m glad this post brought a smile to your face. Loved your story … especially about getting that bulldozer started. I can just imagine the looks on your faces, followed by …”OH,SHIT!!!!” lol
That plastic jart game is a great symbol of what happened to America ……….. PUSSIFIED NATION!
In the minimal research I did, I came across a poster who said he put his original steel jart set up for sale on eBay. A day later eBay removed the ad, and BANNED him for attempting to sell an illegal item. Yup, pussified to the max.
13th November 2014 at 2:28 pm
Maddie's Mom says:
Cooking is going the way of the dinosaurs. Looks like it already has in school cafeterias.
Do they really just open boxes, bags and cans of “food” and heat it up or dump it in a bowl? That’s what it looks like to me.
13th November 2014 at 2:32 pm
Confused says:
My big brother unsoldered big chunky capacitors from old TV sets and charge them up on a power supply and gave them to us to play with just like Spock on Star Trek. We would climb to the top of a small birch tree on the hillside and have it cut down just for the ride. Class of 70…..
13th November 2014 at 2:34 pm
Billy says:
@ Stucky,
Dude… it was terrifying… but at the distance of 35 years, it’s way funnier… monkey fucking a football comes close, but not quite…
“Dude, what’s this do?”
(Dozer rumbles to life)
“SHIT! Shit! Shut it DOW-”
“I’m trying! I have no id-”
“We are so busted.”
“Shuttup! Ain’t nobody anything!”
“FU-! IT’S MOVING!”
“Don’t DO THAT! Push that thing there!”
“YOU WANNA DRIVE?!?”
“Dude, YER HEADING FOR THE LUM-!”
“I know! I know! I can’t get-”
“Just jump! Jump!”
13th November 2014 at 2:35 pm
Billy says:
Me, 10 years old… left alone for hours… nothing to do.
“Hey… what are those glowy thingys inside the TV?”
My father comes home to find the back taken off and all the tubes taken out of this…
The inside looked something like this… when I started…
Yes, he called the TV repairman to put it all back together and yes, he whupped my ass till I couldn’t sit…
I miss ya, Pap Pap!
13th November 2014 at 2:50 pm
KesTwo says:
Ah, broken teeth. A bunch of us kids were playing on my swing set, which had a glider (‘member those?) and I was leaning back when another kid swung high, cracking me in the head. Bloody nose, tooth broken. Yep. Then there was the power lawnmower that I pulled over my foot (well, that needed medical intervention, as I lost a toe – but I was back on my feet gingerly in about a week). Most of the time, it was (as someone else said), “What did you do this time?” or “well, if you were stupid enough to do that, you are old enough to live with the consequences.” My best friend was the oldest of eight, and the most terrifying words her mom could utter to us were, “Just wait til your father gets home” after which wed retreat upstairs to write out wills at age 13.
Anyone else have a school cafeteria that had an ice cream vending machine? Our HS Senior cafeteria did. Once in a while we had CHOICES for lunch, too.
All these stories are neat, but the point that kids today are coddled where we were paddled needs to stay out front. Even work ethics have been pussified. If I wasn’t running a tempeature, I went to SCHOOL!
13th November 2014 at 2:56 pm
Stucky says:
If you’re a Boomer …. and, if you’re feeling nostalgic …. you will LOOOOVE this video.
13th November 2014 at 3:00 pm
Iska Waran says:
BB guns,Wrist rockets, treehouse (heated by ice-fishing stove), giant jumps for our Schwinn Stingrays, Flexible Flyer dogfights, hooky-bobbing.
13th November 2014 at 3:13 pm
flash says:
great read Stuck…and mighty appropriate for Throwback Thursday….brings back some fond memories, especially the Green Stamp vid…as a kid every gift I received came from the S&H wish-book which we kids spent many an idle hour pouring over. .. That said, I believe the kid about to be kicked in the gonads by the goat is actually a girl, not that I’m a bigoted gender conformist, jus’ sayin’.
13th November 2014 at 3:15 pm
Stucky says:
I didn’t own either of these two toys, sadly,
“Creepy Crawlers” —- kids create plastic molds with a substance known as “Plasti-Goop” and an alarmingly powerful hot plate — which could reach temperatures of 3,000 degrees Fahrenheit … while emitting toxic fumes. What could go wrong? lmao
“A.C. Gilbert’s U-238 Atomic Energy Lab” ———– went on sale in 1951 ……. contained a Geiger counter, four samples of Uranium-bearing ore and … no shit, really …. three “very low-level” radiation sources. What could go wrong? Went off the market in 1952. lol
.
http://www.businesspundit.com/10-toxic-toys-that-kids-actually-played-with/
13th November 2014 at 3:16 pm
Captain America says:
This is one of the greatest things I have ever read. Thank you for venerating and enumerating all the things that used to be great in this mangina nation.
13th November 2014 at 3:16 pm
Olga says:
1974 – Age 14
The owner of the bakery I visited on my way to school was a pilot w/ a 4 seater plane and he held a contest for a free ride and I was one of the winners.
On the appointed Saturday morning I got up early, rode my bike out to the rinky-dink airport, met up with the baker/pilot and the other two winners [both adults] and we spent the next hour or so flying around SE Michigan.
It was noon by the time I got home, mom was up and asked where I had been, I told her about the contest and the flight and she thought it was wonderful opportunity.
Apparently I had neglected to tell her – but then neither she nor I thought much of it.
13th November 2014 at 3:26 pm
Welshman says:
Good Stuff Stucky,
Billy you were a real ratchet ass just like me. Fun read, gave me a smile too!
13th November 2014 at 3:29 pm
flash says:
true story…my favorite toy as a child was a stick..I rapped a many a knuckle , of course, only after fair warning…On Guard!
13th November 2014 at 3:30 pm
flash says:
ahem..
13th November 2014 at 3:31 pm
flash says:
last time.
13th November 2014 at 3:32 pm
starfcker says:
I had every incarnation of creepy crawlers they made. The fright factory stuff glowed in the dark. We had another plastic trike called the chopperoo that would slide rings around big wheels. My personal ride was a yellow raleigh chopper, in my 10 year old eyes the very definition of cool. And blow up boxing gloves called soccer boppers
13th November 2014 at 3:39 pm
Kill Bill says:
Mom’s only response, “You better be home by dinner!” …. which was 6PM -Stucko
Maybe she wanted you out long time was cause you was uglee. =)
I jest. Good photo essay Stuck.
13th November 2014 at 3:51 pm
bb says:
Stucky , Stucky, Stucky , I loved my high school years. I had my first girl , first muscle car, first mug shot ,first joints , first LSD (kiss concert )and my first A ever in school. I like school so much I never skipped a day my senior year. Mom and Dad gave me a lot of room to be a kid and enjoy this world. In other words it was a fun 4 years. I don’t think kids have fun like that anymore.
All most forgot . Nice post Stucky. Brings back a lot of memories. GOD bless.
13th November 2014 at 3:52 pm
Kill Bill says:
Went spent all day in the woods. Bikes, fights, motorcycles, fucking around in the creek and catch baby rattlesnakes, no we didnt kiss them bb. Even made a 100ft cable slide across that creek. Shoot fireworks at the police helicopter and each other.
I should have had one eyeball before I was 18.
13th November 2014 at 3:55 pm
Golden Oxen says:
I’m Sure it’s a great article Stucky, but I can’t get by the blonde babe with the see through pink shorts.
Hubba Hubba Hubba!
13th November 2014 at 3:57 pm
AC says:
The Nanny State – because the unwashed masses aren’t going to micromanage themselves into misery and insanity.
13th November 2014 at 4:00 pm
Billy says:
@ starfcker,
They still make Soccer Boppers… you should have seen the epic battle between my son and his cousin – my boy with Soccer Boppers, his cousin with those big green Hulk fists…
Sorry… but this is kinda cool..
Anyone remember Rock Em Sock Em Robots?
Two things I still got from my childhood… My old MTD 500 red wagon and my American Clipper sled…
I used to have the extended, 2-man American Clipper… until my Mom and my sister ran it down a monster hill and cratered… bent the left runner all to hell and cracked the steering bar clean in half…
The one I got now is a replacement that Dad bought me shortly after “the sled incident”… but, my son uses it, so that’s okay…
13th November 2014 at 4:15 pm
efarmer says:
Good post Stucky.
7 boys growing up on a farm with no TV = lots of imagination. We were always trying to make bombs, started with gas and moved to oldest brothers chemistry set to make gunpowder. Used to be able to buy underwater fuse from Smiths? or something like that. What a great catalog.
Parachutes made of sheets jumping off the garage, homemade go carts…..never a dull moment. Did I mention no TV?
EF
13th November 2014 at 4:16 pm
Know-it-all says:
I also think things have gone too far with the nanny state. But I have seen some of you Boomer Pudgemeisters waddling about requesting a table at your favorite chain restaurant because not even smearing butter or crisco on yourselves is going to make you fit in a booth. None of you could have waddled to the salad bar at the buffet, huh?
13th November 2014 at 4:18 pm
Brian says:
“We Boomers may have ruined America, but we surely weren’t pussies.”
Then why have all of these things happened since the boomers started taking over the reins of power from the WW2 and silent generations? Perhaps the boomers turned into pussies or is it the silent gen? I’m a genX’er and I remember a lot of these things and the sudden disappearance of fun in the name of safety thru the 80’s and 90’s. I never wore a helmet and still don’t/won’t. I have the scars to prove it.
13th November 2014 at 4:34 pm
zelmer says:
What a great set of memories! In our school we had a bunch of older women that made everything from scratch. One afternoon after phy ed we snuck down to the kitchen and stole a pan of apple crisp, ran back to the shower room and snarfed it down. For some reason after that they kept the door locked to the kitchen….
13th November 2014 at 4:44 pm
Stucky says:
” … but I can’t get by the blonde babe with the see through pink shorts.” —- Golden Oxen
Sooo … you be a big fan of …… CAMEL TOE!!
.
.
“Nice post Stucky. Brings back a lot of memories. GOD bless.” ———– bb
STOP being nice to me. It ruins everything.
13th November 2014 at 4:51 pm
Kill Bill says:
I can cure you of that Camel Golden Ox.
She is now a boomer and shops at Wal-Mart on Friday night after 11pm
13th November 2014 at 4:55 pm
Stucky says:
My dad smoked.
Actual picture of me smoking my first stolen cig …
13th November 2014 at 4:56 pm
Kill Bill says:
The British call that a ‘Fag’
Wait.
I was talking about the cigarette.
13th November 2014 at 5:01 pm
Billy says:
All you Camel Toe people….
That photo was probably taken in the early 70’s… if she’s still alive, she’s probably an octogenarian by now…
You people are deranged…
13th November 2014 at 5:08 pm
augustus says:
Then: those darned kids
Now: juvenile hall
Then: bactene
Now: CPS visit
Then: boys will be boys
Now: ritalin prescription
Then: summer vacation
Now: at risk youth programs
Then: sneaking a cigarette
Now: gateway drug
Then: be back by dinner
Now: gps monitoring beacon
Then: schoolyard fight
Now: assault conviction
Then: kissing a girl
Now: sex offender status
Then: a crappy school lunch
Now: Stalingrad rations
Then: childhood
Now: communal indoctrination period
13th November 2014 at 5:09 pm
Llpoh says:
Smoking should be allowed in private. Except around kids. People smoking in public need to be shot. Why should their rights trump mine?
As a kid I shot things, blew things up, burnt down buildings by accident (gasoline fire got away from us), slingshotted and blowgunned anything and anyone that got within range, had rock and iceball fights at every opportunity. Shooting each other with bb guns was not something we did, as we did know that was a good way to lose an eye. What we did with firecrackers would have landed us in Gitmo.
M-80s were our favorites. We damn near took the head off poor farmer next door with one. He was standing next to a high stack of irrigation pipes, and we were on the other side. We tossed a m-80 into the pipe nearest his head. We thought it would be cool to see him jump. Good god almighty, the boom that thing made is the single loudest thing I have ever heard – the pipes magnified the sound ten-fold. We ran like rabbits while the poor farmer held his ears and dropped to his knees.
Shit bombs on doorsteps – put a blackcat in a bag with a bunch of dogshit, ring the bell, light it and run. Never got a person but covered plenty of doors in poo.
We were very lucky to survive. Some of those folks would have killed us if they ever caught us.
Stuck – you were to big to be bullied.
13th November 2014 at 6:27 pm
IndenturedServant says:
I’ll have to read this at work tonight and comment in the morning. Just skimming, it looks great Stucky!
13th November 2014 at 6:34 pm
Llpoh says:
We used to make funnelators. Get very large surgical tubing, and attached two long pieces to a funnel (say five feet lengths). Ou needed three people to fire it. It could launch a water balloon several hundred yards. We could bombard crowds from very very long distance. It of course could launch other things, which we only did once and damn near killed a fisherman. We saw a flyfisher across a big Oregon river from us, a few hundred yards away, and decided, stupidly, to shoot a fist size rocket at him to see how close we could get. He was wading, about mid thigh deep. Anyway we fired the rock, and as it sailed we said, hey that is a good shot! Gonna be close! Hell, gonna be real close! Oh shit, gonna get him! And get him it did, right on the hip. Dropped him like a rock, and he completely disappeared underwater. Finally came up sputtering, looked around and spotted us scrambling like rats everywhere. But nothing he could do as he was across the river.
13th November 2014 at 6:49 pm
Llpoh says:
We used to throw stolen strawberries at cars going around a hairpin curve from a ledge around 20 feet up. They had to slow up and we would pelt crap out of the car when they did.
They were big fist sized strawberries.
A nice white car came around the bend, and we let loose a barrage. What we did not know was the guy had his window down, with his elbow hanging out, with a ciggie in his mouth. My brother let fly, and hit the poor fuck right in the earhole with one of those monster strawberries. It then got pretty exciting for the guy- hairpin turn, one hand on wheel, ciggie now in lap, and strawberry jam two inches inside his earhole and running down his face. He managed to stop and not crash, got out yelling and screaming, but we, once again, were beating feet from a safe spot.
I laugh til I cry every time I think about that one. God, I wish I had it on film.
13th November 2014 at 6:59 pm
jaycee says:
1964 living in an upstairs apartment. I was five and my sister four. I was hanging on the doorknobs of a door that swung out over the stairwell. Great fun! My sister grabs the door gives it big push and slams me into the wall over the stairs. I fall off and down the stairs I go. When I recovered from the heap I ended up in at the bottom of the stairs presto – both front teeth……..gone. Mom says “Serves you right. You shouldn’t have been swinging on the door.”
Fast forward a few months. Once again my sister and I were tearing each other up and she ended up chasing me through the house. Remember this is a second floor apartment. Out of the living room around the corner and into the kitchen I go as as fast as I can. Mom is making dinner. I cross the kitchen and head for the open window….sister’s right on my ass. I reached the window and sidestepped quickly. She didn’t. I’ll never forget the last thing I saw. The soles of her shoes as she went out the window. Payback is a bitch!!
I thought mom was going to kill me but she was too busy running over to look out as was I. We reached the window and both hesitantly peered out. To our amazement she was laying back down on the sidewalk below looking up at us. Not a scratch! Seems she landed on a bush next to the sidewalk which gently bent over and deposited her on the concrete. We were never allowed to run in the house again.
My sister and I still laugh about those “incidents”. We had so many things like that happen that would never be allowed today.
13th November 2014 at 7:09 pm
Stucky says:
Good Lord! Some of you were quite destructive.
I’m looking at you, llpoh.
And, you, jaycee. Making it so your sis falls out a 2nd story apartment. Jeeeebusss!!!!
13th November 2014 at 7:31 pm
Llpoh says:
We need to do a segment on how to handle bullies. Being a poor, Indian, smart kid I had a fair bit of experience with bullies. What I found was that bullies are universally cowards. And their cronies almost never come to their aid.
I remember an olde kid bullying me when I was around 12. While he was accosting me verbally, his crony knelt behind me and the bully pushed me backwards so I fell over him.
When. Got up, I used my general technique for bullies who were bigger and older than me – I bull rushed him, grabbed hold of him, and bit him hard as I could. Then I got him down and pounded ever loving shit out of him while he wailed like a little pussy from the bite. I blacked his eyes and split his lip. He was probably fourteen or fifteen.
Later that day there was a knock at the door – bully and his father. My father answered the door. Father of bully was screaming – look what your son did to my kid! Where is he, etc etc. my dad said he is here , and called me to the door.
The bully’s father took one look at me, asked his son if I was the kid, and when the kid said, sniff sniff, yes, the father began slapping shit out of the kid screaming “you let that little kid beat you up! You sissy! Etc etc” and slunk off. (Btw, the bully’s father was lucky to have left – my dad was absolute hell on wheels – if that man had moved toward me, he would have been very fortunate to have survived the encounter, and I shit you not).
Rule number one – if the bully is bigger and or older, lay the ivory to their sorry asses, then pound them to pulp while they wail. This technique NEVER failed. Who wants an ass kicking from a big bully? Not me. Far better to give than receive an ass kicking. Bigger kids used to point me out and tell others to leave me alone “because he bites”. Damn straight I did. Fuck ‘em.
13th November 2014 at 7:37 pm
Llpoh says:
Stuck – I was a poor, redskinned country boy, offspring of a depression era redskinned dustbowl Okie. My dad kept me on what he considered a short leash – it is all relative. Compared to the shit he pulled as a kid, me and my brothers were saints. Those dustbowl oakies were tough as old leather, and would do damn near anything. When THEY fought, they used weapons, and no holds barred.
13th November 2014 at 7:41 pm
jaycee says:
But but but Stuck…… she knocked my fucking teeth out! I looked like shit for two years. She tells me I still do! But I still love her as no other. She is my sis.
13th November 2014 at 8:06 pm
Bullock says:
I cut the tip of one of my fingers off with a lawn mower when I was 10. When I came walking up to the house holding my bloody hand my mom told my dad “You take care of this one”. No one was panicking.
Somewhere around 12 years old I taught myself how to shoot a shotgun and a 22 rifle after having a BB gun for many years. I just grabbed one of my dads out of the closet, grabbed a box of shells and walk out the door across the neighbors yards off to the woods. We had common sense, if you shoot something it will most likely die. Don’t recall ever hearing of anyone accidentally getting shot.
My mom gave us 30 minutes of TV a day and most of the time we never even used it. Rarely watch TV today.
Had so many motorcycles, from 50cc up to 305cc before I got my drivers license. Learned to repair them by myself. No one ever said anything if you didn’t have a helmet on, common sense told you to put one on after you watched your friend bounce his head on the ground and roll around whining.
My bicycle I had when in the third grade was bad ass. Had a banana seat, 5′ tall sissy bar, tall handle bars and when I put a speedometer on it I learned how to ride real fast without running into anything while staring at it.
Glad I got to grow up in the 60’s and 70′. Kids were outside most off the time. I loved chasing all the neighborhood girls and when the sun was just going down steal a kiss and head home feeling good. No electronic bullshit to stare at, just the stars and listening to the noises around you.
13th November 2014 at 8:13 pm
Sensetti says:
Stucky says: Our “first aid” kit consisted of Band-Aids and a bottle of iodine.
Same at my house. Dad would poured iodine in an open wound. I would scream with pain and he would say ” that pain you feel is the healing process now shut up”
Mom would pour castor oil down our throat for nothing more than a foul disposition. She figured if you were cranky, you must need to shit, so here she would come with a bottle.
Oh the good ole days, thanks a lot Stuck, super great post.
Dad’s bottle of iodine
Moms bottle of Castor Oil
13th November 2014 at 8:34 pm
Billy says:
@ Llpoh,
Good stories… had me laughing.
I know you won’t believe this, but when I was stationed out at Fort Lewis in the late 80’s, we built – I shit you not – a funnelator. We even called it that…
Same exact thing. Big funnel. Raided our Medic for a shitload of surgical tubing. 4 holes at the cardinal points on the funnel and tied off four huge pieces of surgical tubing… shot it out the 3rd floor window of the barracks….
We put “X’s” on the floor in electrical tape. Each “X” representing a different target. You stretched the funnel to the X and chances are you would hit fairly close. We launched water balloons and quart sized milk cartons filled with water out the window…
One “X” was the nearest intersection, two blocks away. One of us would stand by the window and watch the intersection, the other would be holding the funnelator on the “X”… on his signal, we released. Your spotter had to be good because of the flight time vs. how long the vehicle would stop at the Stop sign….
The MP’s never did figure out how we were bombing the crap out of that intersection. The water balloons came in at such a high angle, nobody ever knew exactly where they were coming from…
Haven’t thought about that in years… thanks.
13th November 2014 at 8:40 pm
Llpoh says:
Billy – those things would shoot miles! We used to lob balloons over high buildings into crowds. Never knew what hit them.
13th November 2014 at 8:47 pm
Pirate Jo says:
Stucky, damn you old. I was BORN in 1970.
Llpoh, I sure do enjoy your posts. Stay safe, traveller.
13th November 2014 at 8:50 pm
Billy says:
Okay.. I got one.
Our next door neighbors when I was a kid were Mr. and Mrs. F…
The husband was cool but his wife was a stone bitch. She went out of her way to crab at my Mom about all sorts of shit, and she outright hated our German Shepard Rebel… tried to have the cops take him from us because he went “woof” when she came around… once.
Anyways, Old Lady F. had this old mostly-a-bulldog. One day I decided to get a little payback after she crabbed at Mamma about some dumb shit and upset her for the millionth time… her and my Mamma were at war more often than not… Old Man F. had passed away and his widow only got worse as time went on…
So anyways, the next morning I waited till the crabby old bitch left. Went outside and fed that almost-a-bulldog a huge can of Hormel Chili with Beans.
Old Lady F. comes back about a half hour later and takes the dog inside… At some point, that chili worked its way through the dog, because I can hear her bitching up a storm at the top of her lungs. The poor dog gets tossed outside… later on in the evening, there’s a Stanley Steamer carpet cleaning truck in her driveway…
Dogs love Hormel Chili with Beans… just don’t be around when he’s gotta do his business.
13th November 2014 at 8:52 pm
Pirate Jo says:
And Llpoh, I had no idea you were an Indian (feather, I assume, not dot).
My aunt did the blood test and found that if you keep going back on my mother’s side, I come from the people who first inhabited this continent (North America).
That was hundreds of years ago, though. Those Indian women probably wooed their men with their ability to kill a rabbit with a slingshot and were in turn wooed by men who had wine. As it turns out now, most of my background is German, French, and other miscellaneous European.
You bring the rabbit stew, baby, and I’ll bring the wine and cheese.
13th November 2014 at 8:55 pm
Pirate Jo says:
For Llpoh,
Upon a dusty road one day
As sunlight slipped from sight,
A traveller came face to face
With nature’s greatest fright.
For a creature blocked the crossroads:
Most terrible, most odd!
He’d never seen the like of it,
Where’ere his feet had trod.
Yet now the creature trembled.
It slowly raised its hand.
“I pray Sir, please don’t eat me,
I’m charged to guard this land.”
“I’ll join you!” cried the dragon,
And before the night was through,
Both man and mighty dragon
Discovered Friendship true.
13th November 2014 at 9:01 pm
overthecliff says:
I held my comments about the blonde in pink shorts because I thought that was your mom. She was hot,
13th November 2014 at 9:25 pm
Olga says:
I’m thinking it was the winter of 77/78 when I experienced my first real blizzard. My little hick town had a main drag that had a grassy boulevard with two lanes in each direction but during significant snow falls only the center was plowed.
School was out for over a week and a few of us went into town one evening – all of 6 blocks down the main drag – to both the one open bar and one hellacious party above a store front. This was when the drinking age was still 18 for everything and girls got served regardless.
After the bar closed at 2:00 am I “attempted” to drive my mom’s 1970 Oldsmobile Vista Cruiser station wagon back home. The acid made it a lot of fun. Or maybe it was all the alcohol. Or the pot.
Anyways, with a joint in one hand, a cigarette in the other, a beer between my legs and a car full of similarly disposed 17 year old females, I bounced that car off of one snow bank to the other snow bank and back again for the entire 6 blocks and we laughed the entire way.
How do you share a story like that with your kids?
13th November 2014 at 9:46 pm
Winston says:
Llpoh
“People who smoke in public should be shot” Should people who drive cars be shot also? Do you think what you breath in from that on a daily basis is any better than smokes?
Do you think our country is a better place now, than fifty years ago because we crucify anyone who smokes? Better to kiss your transgender boyfriend while smoking a blunt after eating a Moochelle approved lunch?
Sounds like you drank the Kool-Aid my friend. You really think smoking is the only thing that gives you lung cancer? I hope your not that stupid. I would hope no one would ever smoke around you, this way when you get cancer, you can wonder how that second hand smoke coulda creeped up on you.
If it did not serve the powers that be, they would have you believing that if you smoke you will live till your 100. It serves their purpose to vilify smoking. Point is, don’t worry about what they tell you that kills you. Worry about what they don’t. How does that cell phone across the brain pan feel?
Surely, that’s no cancer risk. I guess keep beating up smokers. WTF it is an easy target…
13th November 2014 at 10:46 pm
Llpoh says:
Winston – feel free to blow me. Smoking is not a required activity. Getting place to place is. And even then I expect cars to be maintained to minimize damage to others.
13th November 2014 at 11:03 pm
Llpoh says:
Amazing anyone would try to defend that there is a right to blow smoke around other people. Trying to equate cars to cigarettes is shear buffoonery. Sure, tons of things can cause lung cancer – cigarette smoke is near top of the list. Those things that are avoidable should be avoided. And inflicting carcinogenic cigarette smoke on others is damn easily avoided. Engine exhaust is another kettle of fish entirely. I gotta say, I remember when smog was much worse – thank goodness limits were put in place. Shanghai smog is not something anyone wants or needs to be around.
I do not care if folks smoke – none of my business. So long as they do not inflict it on me. Same goes for just about anything else.
13th November 2014 at 11:34 pm
Llpoh says:
Thanks PJ. I prefer venison to rabbit – hope that will do!
13th November 2014 at 11:36 pm
Kill Bill says:
How do you share a story like that with your kids? -Olga
when they turn 40
13th November 2014 at 11:43 pm
Kill Bill says:
(feather, I assume, not dot). -PJ
[taking popcorn to microwave] -KB
13th November 2014 at 11:46 pm
Golden Oxen says:
Hi Olga
Silence is Golden.
That is a story to keep to yourself.
You have matured so much since way back when.
Haven’t we all?
13th November 2014 at 11:53 pm
EC says:
I hate you guys, you had a fun childhood. Assholes.
14th November 2014 at 12:26 am
dilligaf says:
@ llpoh –
What Oregon river, if you do not mind me asking?
14th November 2014 at 12:28 am
Gayle says:
Stucky
Thanks for the entertaining post. All the responses are fascinating too, although I think Llpoh’s strawberry story is the funniest. I recall a slightly less engineered pastime at age four, throwing mud pies with the neighbor boy at passing cars until one gentleman stopped and gave us a verbal thrashing.
Yes, Boomer children lived lives full of danger and intrigue. In first, second and third grades I walked a mile to school, the most normal thing, acquiring amiable companions along the way. During that time I was given money and the responsibility of going to the corner store two blocks away to make purchases of needed items like a quart of milk. Middle class parents today would be terrified to let their kids out of sight for that long lest a pervert snatch them along the way, and besides the kids would rather watch tv than go on an independent shopping excursion.
I roll my eyes when I see the nice mom across the street give her 7th grade boy a ride to and from school every day – a block and a half journey through a quiet safe neighborhood!! At that age I was riding horses bareback through acres of fields and miles of roads, often galloping freely while National Velvet played in my head.
We built self-confidence, perhaps courage, because we were allowed to. We weren’t that many generations removed from a time when manual labor was the rule of the day. The culture was more protective of children in a moral sense, less so in the domain of the practical, and kids benefitted from both.
Brave New World? Hardly.
14th November 2014 at 12:31 am
Reverse Engineer says:
There are still some dangerous things that are legal. You can for instance still stuff your face at Golden Corral from the All You Can Eat Buffet.
and Nutso Nik Wallenda is still walking wires between tall buildings and over canyons and waterfalls
not to mention you are still ENCOURAGED to join the FSoA Military and take a tour or three of the global hotspots
I’ll cross post on the Diner tonight.
RE
14th November 2014 at 12:32 am
Chicago999444 says:
What a great read!! Thanks, Stucky. This triggers so many memories.
Zelmer, do you and I perhaps know each other? Did we maybe go to the same high school in the 60s? In St Louis, by chance?
Because a couple of boys in my school made off with a tray of cherry crunch from the cafeteria, which was found half- eaten in a back hallway.
At age 12, I rode all over the south end of the city on my bike. A year later, I had a student bus pass, so I rode buses all over the city just to see where they went. Ended up in some awfully dicey neighborhoods, but, with the exception of the occasional perv exposing himself or making an obscene proposition, no one offered me any trouble.
The public pools were great- huge, beautifully maintained pools, privately owned, that offered cheap admissions on weekday afternoons. I also spent many summer afternoons at the library.
My elementary school had no cafeteria, so we 7th and 8th graders were permitted to go out to nearby places for lunch if we didn’t bring lunches, and I was allowed 2 lunches out a month, on Friday’s, at Velvet Freeze or Woolworth’s lunch counter.
When I was eleven or twelve, I’d dress up in my “big girl” clothes, with nylon stockings and kitten-heeled shoes, and go downtown just to cruise the dept stores, then buy some minty chocolate drops from Woolworths, and mosey over to the big Katz drugstore to eat them while reading all the lurid “adult” magazines that my mother told me were filthy trash unfit for my innocent eyes- rags like True Confessions and True Detective and Crime.
14th November 2014 at 12:46 am
Reverse Engineer says:
This thread is turning into an episode from the Wonder Years.
RE
14th November 2014 at 1:05 am
Llpoh says:
Dilli – 40 years on and damn if I can remember. It was not one of the big two. May have been in Washington instead of Oregon. Nice size river probably a couple hundred yards across by memory, but nothing like the Columbia or Willamette. The guy was across the river and probably 100 yards down stream. Had to be 250 to 300 yards away. The rock was in the air a long time. One in a million to come anywhere near him much less hit him. Lucky we did not hit him in the head. I suspect the launchers had a muzzle velocity of a couple hundred feet a second or so. Not bow and arrow speed, but given the mass they could move they were impressively powerful. I suspect the rock was in the air the best part of ten seconds.
14th November 2014 at 2:05 am
Will says:
Jarts can be made at home now
14th November 2014 at 2:08 am
Will says:
http://www.thingiverse.com/thing:52984
14th November 2014 at 2:09 am
Si says:
What a great read! Read all the comments too which I just got lost in…… just laughed!
Hit with sticks, covered in cowshit by my friend who fired his shotgun at a pile of it I was standing by, out on my bike till after dark, set fire to piles of leaves, played ‘rock war’ (although we didn’t call it that), rode my motorcycle (50cc) across a frozen pond (to the sound of ice cracking), climbed every tree I could (fell out of many), shot arrows straight up in the air and tried to dodge them at the last minute…..
Most of what I got up to would now get me a ‘record’. Instead I am a dad, a business owner, I have been a teacher……..
It has made me realise what kids today have lost. And that makes me sad.
14th November 2014 at 2:12 am
dilligaf says:
Llpoh – I have a similar story on a S. Oregon river.
Some friends and I staked out the ‘good’ spot across the river from where the trail came down. Older kid comes down with his girlfriend and starts yelling at us how that is his spot and we got to leave. He then starts chucking rocks across the river at us.
Well, we did not have a funnelator, but my friend had a sling (david and goliath style) and he could whip a baseball size rock with amazing accuracy. After the 5th or 6th rock came down in the sand nearby. He said, ok, that is it. Picked up a large, smooth, round rock and let it fly. You could see right off that the trajectory was dead on. The target was bent over picking up more rocks and did not even see it coming. He looked up at the last possible second and moved his head just enough that it sailed barely an inch past his face.
He left.
To this day, I have no doubt, it would of killed him.
14th November 2014 at 2:20 am
Reverse Engineer says:
14th November 2014 at 4:50 am
Reverse Engineer says:
14th November 2014 at 4:54 am
Reverse Engineer says:
14th November 2014 at 4:57 am
Reverse Engineer says:
14th November 2014 at 5:02 am
Reverse Engineer says:
14th November 2014 at 5:05 am
Reverse Engineer says:
14th November 2014 at 5:30 am
Card802 says:
We used to have alley wars.
Metal garbage can lids were our Roman shields, rocks, sticks, whatever we could find were our weapons. I remember one kid getting hit in the head with a thrown auto door handle.
We always got in trouble but we sure had fun.
14th November 2014 at 5:51 am
Stucky says:
RE
That is some nice nostalgic music. Quite fitting. (Not sure why it’s getting thumbs down.)
Really enjoy the harmony by Chad and Jeremy.
Mary Hopkins … everyone knows that song … and nothing else by her. One hit wonder? Not really. She just released a new album in 2013, “Painting By Numbers”. She still looks good (especially for being 64) and still sounds the same.
14th November 2014 at 7:51 am
Richard J. Medicus says:
The farm with a hay barn. My brother and I jumping out of the rafters into the loose hay or making hay tunnels through the bailed hay. Dad and grandfather hanging a butchered hog for cleaning and skinning. Dad cutting off the heads of chickens and watching them run around the yard with their heads cut off. To this day one of my favorite retorts is “No one here but us chickens and we’re running around with our heads cut off.”
14th November 2014 at 8:10 am
Darknlovely says:
This is a wonderful read. I am late for everything. Question…Is it possible that this generation (Stucky’s) will cycle back, considering the fourth turning et al? My son is 18. It think he will raise his kids with the same kind of freedom. I just wonder…
14th November 2014 at 8:13 am
Stucky says:
“Is it possible that this generation (Stucky’s) will cycle back …” ——— Darknlovely
Can you capture lightning in a bottle? Not without great difficulty.
Those days were a unique time in history ignited by unique circumstances. I don’t see how it can be recaptured. And frankly, most people today wouldn’t want to see a resurgence. We thought they’d never end …. but, they did.
14th November 2014 at 8:42 am
flash says:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2KODZtjOIPg
Those damn Silents ruined it for everyone..damn em’ all to Chucky Cheese!
http://www.zerohedge.com/news/2014-11-13/most-destructive-generation-ever
in 1951. They did not ‘not issue manifestos, make speeches or carry posters’ then. But they did in the 1960s, when they were in their late teens and up. It’s curious to see that those who did protest and wave banners and all, from Washington to Paris and beyond, concerned as they were with human rights, corruption and the environment, later became the wealthiest and most destructive people the world has ever witnessed, as a group, as a generation.
From 1962 through 1991, when mid-wave Silent Generation members were in their prime working years, gross domestic product grew an average of 3.5% a year. Since then, GDP has expanded 2.6% a year. The homes and financial assets they acquired as they aged saw outsized price gains over the decades. [..] Meanwhile the Federal Housing Finance Agency’s home price gauge has risen 472% since 1975.
14th November 2014 at 8:48 am
Richard J. Medicus says:
…Raw milk in five gallon cans that were kept cold in water set in the ground. Riding then driving my dads John Deere and Ford tractors when bringing in the hay or corn.
…My brother and I carrying my dads .22 over to friends farm and shooting into the trees from their back yard. Making gunpowder with stuff I bought at the local drug store.
…Walking 2, 3, 4 miles or more to the elementary school, to the grocery store or drug store just to buy a .05 candy bar and a .10 comic book.
…Picking blackberries at a local field with mom and then making jams and jellies and pies and cobblers.
…Delivering newspapers on foot on a route that stretched at least five miles. Sundays and Wednesdays were a bitch, but Saturdays were a snap because of how thick and heavy they were. The money I earned went to buying maple bars in the morning and at lunch in the soda shop across the street from the high school. Heck, even the school cafeteria sold the maple bars for a long time.
14th November 2014 at 9:03 am
ThePessimisticChemist says:
@Richard – We had a Jersey that we milked. Bossy was her name. My brother and I each drank at least a gallon of whole milk a day.
And I do mean WHOLE. Half the time we didn’t even bother scraping cream, a glass of that milk was like a damned meal.
For a millennial I sure did have a strange upbringing.
14th November 2014 at 9:13 am
Richard J. Medicus says:
…Earning money by collecting beer and pop bottles from the fields and ditches. .01, .02 for the small bottles and .03 for the large beer bottles.
…Earning money shoveling chicken shit at local farmers chicken ranch. Racing my brother to see which of us could fill our wheel barrows faster and run to the dump point to dump the barrows into an old dump truck (without tipping forward too far and going head first into the pile of shit). The two of us driving that old dump truck down into his valley and dumping the load. Today there is a housing development on top of the valley. The grass is sure green.
…Finally getting strong enough to ride, without stopping, up a couple of local uphill roads that were about a 7% grade and 1 1/2 to 2 miles long.
…It was the accomplishments, the doing physical things, driving yourself to succeed, working yourself harder every day.
…And I had a hell of a lot of fun in the doing.
14th November 2014 at 9:18 am
Richard J. Medicus says:
@ThePessimisticChemist
…I can only remember making butter once on the farm, but I remember in later years mom buying whole milk and drinking it that way or skimming the top to make whipped cream.
…I have vague recollections of an outhouse on that farm and hand pumped water in the kitchen. I do remember a hand pump out by the barn.
…Lightening striking the barn one year and me worrying about a German Shepherd that we had. That lightening put a big hole in the roof of that barn. We were probably lucky that it didn’t burn down.
…It’s a shame that the milk industry copyrighted the word “milk”. Now a farmer that sells raw milk can’t legally sell “milk”.
…There are so many things that have gotten ridiculous and out of hand.
14th November 2014 at 9:28 am
dilligaf says:
We used to monitor the graffiti on the local water tower, so we could be the 100th person to paint it up…….
14th November 2014 at 9:55 am
Au Canary says:
Great post. Slapped me back to reality – I might even skip my vitamins today, and buy a pack of smokes (not kidding)!
My parents had a place in Connecticut near Groton – a couple acre rocky lot with a two story and a VW Bus and a Buick in the garage. The neighborhood was a big circle drive with about 20 rocky lots, each an acre or two, many lots had been cleared of pines and Laural bushes. The cleared laurels were all cut off at an angle at the base leaving a field of spikes for use to run through. Falling on these resulted in at least two separate trips to the emergency room for stitches – me and a friend.
We use to chase the neighbors bull dog until he would bite someone and break skin. He did several times on different friends. He was a great dog. Today he would be put down.
I must have got emergency room stitches from paying at least 5 times as a kid. I wonder what the statistics are on this over time and if there is any correlation to social and geopolitical issues.
About 6 years old, I flipped a bike over and smashed my face on pavement, splitting my lip and I broke out one of my front teeth. I survived – No helmet.
As a 12 year old we took 22LR rifles and 12 gauge shotguns out onto private property and shoot out anything that resembled glass or plastic on abandoned cars. Mind you, it was a 3-4 mile walk from our townhouse development in Gaithersburg Maryland (then, a RURAL suburb of D.C.). We would walk past the front security gate of the U.S. NIKE Missile Base (an anti-ballistic nuclear missile base was literally across a gravel road from us), and so we walked along this busy road, past the base, carrying our loaded guns openly. Imagine the Youtube video documenting how that would play out today.
14th November 2014 at 11:40 am
Au Canary says:
Smoking is serious shit. I am pretty much convinced that disposition to getting full blown cancer is primarily genetic with environmental triggers.
If it was good for you, I would smoke a carton a week without struggling.
I am pretty certain my father, who passed away 2 years ago now, died from smoking. He finally quit about 10 years before he died.
Imagine how much longer he could have “existed” in that assisted living home — him being one of the few with his mental faculties still intact. Instead he passed away from a heart problem at 95.
So if you want to live to be 100+, as your body starts to fail you, housed with incoherent people, don’t smoke.
14th November 2014 at 12:06 pm
Aheinousanus says:
The boomers are the ones who fucked things up. The worst fucking generation ever. This is the generation that when young was anti-establishment only to become the establishment that is oppressive on so many level that the Puritans look lenient.
Of course that does not mean everyone in the generation, but it is the majority.
I also remember when a couple of decades the boomers were classified as those born from 1945 thru 1956 (or maybe 1957). Then all of a sudden those born up to 1964 were included. Well, I am one of those and I sure as hell am not a boomer. Never was. There is a whole lost generation who is between the boomers and Xers and we do not fit into either category.
Honestly, even calling those born in the late 40s as part of the same generation as those from the late 50s is stupid. They have nothing in common. First set was into Elvis and second into Hendrix.
14th November 2014 at 12:16 pm
RT Williams says:
When was the introduction of MINORITIES ?
It musta been PRETTY BORING living and working and vacationing surrounded by people who liked the same things YOU liked, believed the same things YOU believed, laughed at the same jokes YOU laughed at, behaved the way YOU did …
14th November 2014 at 12:24 pm
Mike says:
Thanks for a wonderful story! The comments bring back so many memories. BB gun fights, throwing cumquats at cars and hauling ass laughing as you were chased. Holding onto the shoulder of someone on a motorcycle as you rode your stingray so you could get up to about 35-40 mph and hit the homemade ramp that pointed almost straight up. If you crashed everybody laughed like hell no matter how messed up you were unless you had a bone sticking out somewhere. Damn we were lucky. Bookmarking this for sure.
14th November 2014 at 12:36 pm
yahsure says:
I played outside for hours and sometimes rode my bike miles away. Dirt clod wars that sometimes had rocks inside.
Climbing trees to incredible heights.
I used to stand on the front seat when my dad drove. Or lay on top of the shelf by the rear window while my dad drove.
My dad would sit me in front of him and let me drive his motorcycle when i was like six years old.
My uncle would take me shooting. I would shoot all kinds of guns as a kid. I would take a 22 or a shotgun and walk all day in the desert blasting stuff. I read a book about all the pest animals you could shoot and did my part to rid the world of them.
I have fond memories of running loose and wandering everywhere at places like the drag races or a favorite, The smash up derby’s,they had a lot of them when i was a kid. I’m not sure what happened, maybe insurance issues killed this crazy fun. My folks would just tell me to come back after the event was over.
14th November 2014 at 12:42 pm
TE says:
Thank you so much Stucky, I’ve been beaming reading through this.
Ah, childhood of the 70s. Walking miles and miles alone, selling things I made door to door, mom pimping me out to old ladies for housecleaning at age 8, getting lost in the woods for hours, eating lunch from crabapples, wild carrots and wild mint found on my treks.
Bottle rocket fights, corn stalk fights (abandoned corn field, took us neighborhood kids two summers to clean it all out and send a few of us to the hospital for stitches), my best friend and I taking off on her horse – bareback – and going to her cousin’s 2 miles outside town. We wouldn’t have gotten in trouble if our 11 year old minds would have acknowledged the fact that 70% of the trip was along our main highway.
Smoking on the train tracks. Setting up a “camp” and sneaking out to drink all summer long.
Locking my sis out of the house then getting my ass blistered for her cut arm resulting from her being determined to get back in.
Ah, what good times.
My son was lucky enough to grow up in the country and get many of these same experiences, my daughter will never be so lucky.
Nor will she want to. The one thing the school manages to pound into their little heads is “safety first.” She tells me all the time the ways I’m risking life and limb. Little rule-following, do-gooder. But she is 9 and already exhibiting contrarian thoughts when it comes to many other things, so I have hope.
14th November 2014 at 1:22 pm
Stucky says:
“We would walk past the front security gate of the U.S. NIKE Missile Base (an anti-ballistic nuclear missile base was literally across a gravel road from us ….” ——— Au Canary
Wow. Wow. Wow!!!! Talk about things I haven’t even thought about in 40+ years!!!
We left Newark to move to South Plainfield, NJ … where my parents still live.
I used to ride my bike to Hadley Field, a tiny regional airport …. which in July 1925 conducted the very first ever transcontinental night airmail flight …. to watch little airplanes land and take off.
Right next to the airport was a Nike Missile Base … with two actual “dummied” NIKE missiles at the front gate. I thought that was cool as hell ……… and with missiles like that I wondered why I’d need to duck under a wooden desk in case of a nuke war! lol
Actual picture from the South Plainfield base;
“Nike Battery NY-65 was constructed adjacent to Hadley Airport (originally, Hadley Field), site of the nation’s first air mail service. This two magazine Nike missile battery was first manned by Regular Army units and later by the New Jersey Army National Guard. Nike Hercules missiles first arrived at this base during 1961 and the site remained an active air defense installation for another ten years.”
Wow. Thanks for stirring up some OLD, almost forgotten, memories.
14th November 2014 at 2:00 pm
bobby v says:
I remember snow sledding down a steep street that crossed a main road at the bottom. It was all right because we had spotters at the bottom who would yell if cars were coming. If a car was coming, we’d have to turn the sled real hard or purposely dump it. Yeah, I should be dead. But now I put on a seat belt to avoid a $103 fine. Sucks.
14th November 2014 at 2:06 pm
Dale Edwards says:
My uncle was given a gas can and was told by my grandfather to walk two miles down the road to get the truck from a field and stop at his uncle’s place on the way home to pick the the hay fork. He took his gun with him so he could shoot prairie dogs when he stopped to rest. He was 5 years old at the time. He got to the truck, put some gas into the carb, the rest into the tank, went to the front of the truck and cranked the leaver until it started, then got in to drive it. Since he was so little he had to step on the gas peddle then stand up to look out the window, then step on the gas, look out the window, and on and on till he got the fork and got the truck home. What would they think of that now a days? Oh and my gram had all 11 of her babies at home, and once waited 3 years to register the 3 that had been born since the last time they’d registered any. My mom rode a horse to school, with 3 of her brothers on the same horse, no helmets or safety gear, -40 degrees in the winter. That would be called child abuse now. All 11 of them grew up and lived until they were in their 80’s and 90’s. Gram lived until 101.
14th November 2014 at 2:08 pm
Dale Edwards says:
My son operated a backhoe, by himself, when he was 5 years old and took down and dug out the roots of 3 dead trees on our property. He drank milk straight from a cow that had 1/2 an inch of cream on the top, saddled his own horse and rode it at home alone, by himself when he was 9 years old, went fishing with his mother and fell into the Fraser river off a log boom, got plucked out, then both laughed about it later, rode his bike 1 1/2 miles to his friend’s place when he was 8, drove a truck when he was 12, (by himself, alone in the truck), and told me later when he was 22 that he’d loved growing up like he did. Now they’d report me to CPS and take him away from me and put him with a couple of gays. Oh, for the olden days!
14th November 2014 at 2:25 pm
Beano says:
Blame it on liberalism or denying God, whichever came first!
14th November 2014 at 2:29 pm
Jan says:
THIS IS SUCH A GREAT ARTICLE!!! I was born mid ’40’s an that was exactly how it was!! THank you for posting it I laughed all through it-so accurate!
14th November 2014 at 2:30 pm
russ says:
the year was 1973. For our senior play I had the part of “Sheriff Droop-along”. I thought it would be a good idea to bring my dad’s 12 gauge double barrel shotgun as a prop. I even loaded some blank shells on my dad’s reloader which I discharged on stage!! NOBODY. SAID. A. WORD About me bringing a real gun to school. Can you imagine what would happen to a high school senior doing that today? He’d be lucky to be rotting in prison if not shot to pieces by the cops after the school lockdown.
14th November 2014 at 2:36 pm
Kill Bill says:
The boomers are the ones who fucked things up -StainousAnus
O. Since you sound like a whiny spoiled Looennial.
Bite me -KB
14th November 2014 at 2:37 pm
Didius Julianus says:
Fantastic essay Stucky! We had the socker boppers, creepy crawlers, pocket knives, tree house, etc.
Stuff I did:
Broke a mercury thermometer and rubbed the mercury onto a franklin half dollar until it was coated and shiny (with my bare hands of course).
Set up bike ramps and using or Schwinn Stingrays we would jump over several other kids laying down.
Range wars all over the neighborhood with hard as hell acorn type “berries” we picked off these weird bushes the grow in south Florida.
Walking on the top of a five or 6 story building that was under construction right on the unfinished walls with noting between the ground and us but the air. Riding our bikes round and round in the same unfinished building.
No rules “football” where the aim was simply to get the ball to the other side of the yard, no matter how and the other side stopped you or tried, also no matter how. Add in the hard metal sprinkler heads through the yard for extra fun when hitting the ground.
Walkig in the shallow water of the numerous lakes that we around collecting minnows and small crabs for our aquarium and getting numerous hand and feet cuts from algae covered barnacles.
Swinging from vines in our ficus tree like Tarzan. My brother broke his arm that way when a vine gave way.
Ranging all over for miles on our bikes, also just to be home by dinner time.
Learning to shoot using a 20 guage shotgun my dad had the stock cut down so it would fit my 10 year old size.
Man, those were the days,
14th November 2014 at 2:56 pm
James says:
I liked that piece up until the last lines about there being no “homos” in the Boy Scouts … and how that was better than havig gay Scouts.
The fact is, there WERE gay Boyscouts. Always have been. It’s just that back in the “good ol’ days” the gay boys were deep in the closet, scared and probably ashamed. Because they were taught the. should be ashamed — and scared of being “out” (visible). So they didn’t tell anybody about their feelings or orientation. Some probably ended their lives in suicide. Was that somehow better? The good old days?
14th November 2014 at 3:13 pm
Stevo_777 says:
I’m old enough and fortunate enough to have grown up in that time period. The list of thing we did is long! BB gun fights, dirt clod fights, sword fights with tobacco stalks or sticks. We threw whole ears of corn at each other in my dad’s barn and those things hurt! If we got hurt we sucked it up and went on.
No didn’t think about seat belts. Cuts, scrapes and bruises were part of growing up. Didn’t go whining either after. Didn’t want to be labeled a sissy.
Cops were there for keeping the peace and didn’t go looking for someone to arrest or shoot. One of my buddies dad was a state trooper. He didn’t give me one ticket. Called my parents instead!
I survived. And so can the rest of you without the gov’t nanny state.
14th November 2014 at 3:23 pm
Didius Julianus says:
“I also remember when a couple of decades the boomers were classified as those born from 1945 thru 1956 (or maybe 1957). Then all of a sudden those born up to 1964 were included. Well, I am one of those and I sure as hell am not a boomer. Never was. There is a whole lost generation who is between the boomers and Xers and we do not fit into either category.”
Amen to that as I have never felt myself one of the boomers, too young and not knowing why they were protesting and too late to the table, so to speak, as they had already secured all the good jobs. Not that I have not done OK but the people from around 1957 to 1964 are certainly not the same, as a class, as those older boomers.
14th November 2014 at 3:27 pm
shropster says:
I was born in Phoenix in 1936. I remember do the pledge of allegiance to flag before Pearl Harbor. “…to the flag…” was accompanied by pointing to the flag with the palm open and upwards. I also remember recess where we would be given a football and we’d play “blood and guts”. The person with the football would run around the playground until it was taken way, repeat until the bell ended recess. I remember riding my bike all over town, even through South Phoenix housing projects with never a worry.
I graduated from Scotsdale HS in 1954, with 70 in my graduating class and from ASU in 1959. I took 5 years as I worked part time to for it.
Whenever I stop and think about it, I am ever grateful that I came of age in the 50s.
14th November 2014 at 3:30 pm
Didius Julianus says:
I got stitches in my upper lip when I was four or so and my Dad was driving our 1958 VW Beetle (no seat belts) out on some dirt roads in the woods and I was bouncing up and down on the front passenger seat. I bounced so high I split my lip on the windshield. Did that teach us? Hell no, a couple years later same story but this time my hard head CRACKED the wind sheild!!
14th November 2014 at 3:30 pm
James says:
The comments following this piece are dissapointing in their failure to address the heterosexist / homophobic comment about “homos” in the Boy Scouts.
The “good old days” of rampant and rabid homophobia and heterosexism were not so very good. Fortunately, in many places, gay boys are thought by most as just being boys. Not monsters.
14th November 2014 at 3:44 pm
TE says:
@Didius, my dad owned a ’67 Chevrolet stationwagon, he bought it when mom came up pregnant with me, felt he should have the “family” car. Only car he ever bought brand new, anyway…
The bench seat in the front had a pull-down arm rest in the middle. I remember many a drive with the arm rest pulled down and my butt parked on the “Johnny Seat,” (no idea why they called it that, but they did).
Luckily for my face (that dashboard was miles and miles of good old ‘murkin steel), dad’s reflexes were good and the few times he had to stop quickly he was able to get his arm up and catch me before I splatted the dash.
Then, after I and the family grew too large for the Johnny Seat, there was the privilege of being the oldest and getting dibs on the “way back.”
A couple times a year we would load up the wagon and head to South Bend. I nearly always got the entire back of the wagon, just me, blankets, pillows, suitcases and a cooler. I would read, wave at truckers, fight off the kids trying to breach my barricade, hide if Dad’s wrath started to be directed my way.
It was AWESOME. What the hell has happened to us and why do people like it this way?
And trust me, they do. They not only like it, they want more.
14th November 2014 at 3:51 pm
Llpoh says:
All this said, and there was a lot of fun had, I will be a killjoy and point out the neighborhood kid who lost an eye in a rock fight. That was a bummer. But the biggest screw up was my brother and another kid making the granddaddy of all pipe launchers – pipes with threaded cap on one end, hole drilled in it to light the propellant/place the fuse. The propellent was usually the gunpowder from a couple of blackcats, the missile a marble.
Anyway, they upped the ante to a big pipe the found somehow – an inch or two pipe. Same process, except they stuffed the bastard full, and jammed some big something down the pipe as a missile. My brother lit the fuse while the other kid held it in place with his foot.
Turned out holding it with his foot was a big mistake. The pipe did not explode, but the concussion from the explosion split his shoe lengthwise up the middle. Same thing happened to his foot – a lengthwise split through his entire foot. They saved his foot, but it left him semi-crippled for life.
Some of the stuff was dangerous, and there were some accidents. The problem was always the way things escalated – snowballs to iceballs, dirt clods to rocks, small fire crackers to giant ones, etc. if small was good, big had to be better, right?
And the fact I survived driving a huge V8 with crappy tires and bad brakes and a lead-foot is amazing. And who used or had seat belts? Lots of young folk died in crashes in those days. Lots. Cars are much safer today.
But it sure was fun.
14th November 2014 at 3:52 pm
Olga says:
Generation Jones
http://www.generationjones.com/?page_id=6
These experts underline the importance of distinguishing between the post-WWII demographic boom in babies versus the cultural generations born during that time. Jonesers were born between the mid-1950s and mid-1960s, with the exact birth years varying from nation to nation. In the U.S. and most Western countries, the birth years most often used for GenJones are 1954-1965.
https://generationsq.wordpress.com/category/generation-jones/
14th November 2014 at 3:55 pm
TE says:
@Llpoh, yep, kids got hurt.
Guess what? They STILL do. Kids drop dead all the time from accidents and illness.
It is 100% impossible to regulate stupid, sick, or crazy out of existence. But we are good at trying.
My dad lost his eye in a BB gun fight. All the neighborhood kids would bring forth their pellet and bb guns, then choose sides and go to war like it was the Wild West.
One of my dad’s best friends was the one that blinded him.
Dad said when he got home from the hospital, all the kids were still out having gunfights with only one difference, his friend had his ass busted for “aiming high.”
That was it. No lawyers, cops, and permanent records. Dad has lived with his disability his entire adult life.
I used to do accounting for a guy that lost a friend from a bb gun in the ’30s. All the farm kids had drawn a big ole target on the backside of the barn and would have shooting contests.
One time the pellet hit a nail head and ricocheted back going into the eye and killing the shooter.
Boss said that the parents stopped the contests for a couple months, then gave in and let them go back. The kids decided to wear glasses for protection. Glasses that were just glass, not safety lenses.
People die. We ALL die.
Taking away the ability to have fun and experience failure, death and risk, is taking the joy out of our world.
“It’s for the children” equates to destruction of our souls in exchange for allowing Darwin award winners to procreate. Not a good trade in my opinion.
14th November 2014 at 4:09 pm
Billy says:
@ James
Dude, we were having fun until you had to go and harsh the mellow… fucking buzzkill. There’s always one in every group… “that guy”…
You want to be a fag advocate? Then go wear a rainbow wig and have your very own LGBTQRSXYZ parade on your own time in the privacy of your own home…
Goddamn sniveling fag nazis…
@ shropster
Had a similar game when I was young. This was early/mid 70’s. Called “Kill the guy” or “Smear the queer” (shoutout to James).
Ball is thrown and caught by someone. That someone is chased by a howling pack of kids until he is caught and pummeled. Then the ball is taken from him and thrown again. Rinse, repeat.
Throwing the ball away so you didn’t get hit was a mark of cowardice, but strangely, throwing the ball to a hated rival so that he got dog piled was legal… no whining, no complaining, no sniveling… the longer you stayed on your feet before getting taken down, the more “points”… too bad we didn’t have a point system..
14th November 2014 at 4:14 pm
Bostonbob says:
James,
I think you have issues. I suspect most here could care less if someone is gay or not. It is the gay mafia that wishes to inject itself into everyone’s life that gets tiring. Be gay, be happy, flaunt if if you like, just don’t force me to prioritize your gay rights over my inalienable rights. Being gay is not something special, it is just something different. Some people don’t like different, most don’t care. Your sad tale is getting boring take someplace where someone gives a shit.
Sincerely,
Bob.
14th November 2014 at 4:17 pm
Bostonbob says:
Billy,
We had “Pig Pile”. A group of us would be hanging out some one would shout pig pile, tackle someone to the ground and everyone would pile on. Often time the guy doing the tackling would get it as bad as the one tackled. No one was ever hurt badly, just bruise and cuts and an occasional bite mark.
Bob.
14th November 2014 at 4:25 pm
You can't call me "fag". says:
Ah… Now we are seeing the true colors round here!
14th November 2014 at 4:27 pm
ThePessimisticChemist says:
@llpoh – “All this said, and there was a lot of fun had, I will be a killjoy and point out the neighborhood kid who lost an eye in a rock fight.”
True, however its possible to let kids have some adventure without being stupid about it. Someone mentioned bb-gun fights earlier, thats a great example.
We’d shoot fireworks at each other, throw rocks, swing sticks, and wrestled every day. We also toted around our bb-guns and later .22s with us everywhere. They never got pointed at another person. The one time my brother shot me with a bb-gun was the one time I got away with thrashing him, my step-dad told my brother “I should kick your ass, but your brother already did.”
Never point a firearm at something you don’t intend to shoot.
The point of my little story, is that presumably people can be taught the dangers ahead of time, and the remaining fallout can be chalked up to “toughening up.”
PS: Cars were more fun back then, but I’m pretty sure I’d be dead several times over if not for seat belts or crumple zones.
14th November 2014 at 4:30 pm
JAH666 says:
It has been fascinating and nostalgic to read all these great comments!
To: TE – You’re right, everybody dies… And in generations past, kids (and adults) died in simple and sometime quixotic circumstances that we just don’t see anymore. But often in generations and ages past the members of the human race that died due to accident or disease were, in the eyes of God (or Darwin for that matter) meant to die. The human race benefitted from this natural selection. Now, as you pointed out, the Darwin Award winners live to spread their genetics far and wide. Maybe we’ve made things a little too safe. In the ‘good old days’ a simple mistake could and often would cost you your life. People buried their dead, cried and mourned and GOT OVER IT. My neighbor is in her 80’s and remembers when growing up in rural Kansas that it was not uncommon for children to die in their early years from any number of causes. But the ones that survived to adulthood were tougher, smarter and luckier for it. I heard an historian once speculate that one of the reasons that America did so well in the decades after WWII was that the men who went off to the various parts of the world at war and survived to come home and then became rich and successful was because they were LUCKIER than the ones that died overseas. He had no proof but he firmly believed this!
14th November 2014 at 4:39 pm
Bostonbob says:
Llpoh,
5 kids in my class in 1980 died in car wrecks out of 185. Not good odds. I see a lot more dysfunction from kids today. Poor coping skills, poor adaptive skills, not all but most. If we didn’t grow up that way, how is it that we did not let our kids grow up that way. The pervasive propaganda telling us we were wrong? Thinking maybe we were smarter than our parents? Thinking we have it all figured out and we will get it right. Ceding much of the freedoms that we had to the institutional constrictions of the state?
I suspect it is a blend of all of these and more. I only hope to do the best I can with what I have.
Bob.
14th November 2014 at 4:48 pm
ALEXISTAN says:
A revenue-hungry state seeking to broaden its remit to regulate every aspect of daily life, in the same way that a religion would, only with no offer of an Afterlife. It is Sharia Law for the Godless.
14th November 2014 at 4:49 pm
Bostonbob says:
Sorry,”If we grew up that way”
Bob.
14th November 2014 at 4:51 pm
Billy says:
Ah… Now we are seeing the true colors round here! “
True colors? Where the hell have you been?
Whatcha gonna do? Hit me with your purse?
14th November 2014 at 4:55 pm
Llpoh says:
Bb gun fights were the one thing we made off limits. I do not think parents were involved in the decision. We just knew it was too dangerous, and we also knew pointing guns at people was a dangerous habit. We were all packing real heat by the time were were 10, and had a healthy respect for guns of any kind.
I agree safer is not necessarily better. But it is not necessarily worse, either. There is a line somewhere. Finding it is the challenge.
An example – I provide my kids five star rated four cylinder safe soccer mom cars. And am ever so happy I have. They get from A to B and are far less likely to die on the roads than my generation was. That is a huge improvement. Huge.
14th November 2014 at 5:10 pm
James says:
Dear Site Owner / moderator,
Please remove my post in which I used the name “White Master”. Thanks.
14th November 2014 at 5:33 pm
crazyivan says:
In the late sixties I peddled my sting ray 6 miles to meet up with my closest neighbor friend Jerry. He was not only my best friend but he as I said was the closest neighbor. I think I was about 13 and Jerry was 14.
After countless discussions concerning the meaning of the trailerhouse compound located down the road (the M&M, a known whorehouse on the edge of town) we decided that talk was bullshit-action was required.
So together we peddled an additional mile or so towards town to knock on their door and humbly ask if we could get some pussy.
I will never forget the look of endearment she gave as we were told to come back in a few years.
Also the disappointment.
14th November 2014 at 5:53 pm
Stucky says:
“The comments following this piece are dissapointing in their failure to address the heterosexist / homophobic comment about “homos” in the Boy Scouts.” ———– James
Are you gay?
Me too. So, don’t worry about it.
Just enjoy all the WONDERFUL stories folks are reminiscing about. I know I am.
14th November 2014 at 7:14 pm
Stucky says:
heh heh
14th November 2014 at 7:15 pm
I Suspect says:
There were lots of gay ‘types’ in the Scouts. Some of them were just good homosexual folk wanting to contribute to positive society and others were just pedophiles! Both are still in the ranks and the child abusers need to be tarred n’ feathered.
14th November 2014 at 7:55 pm
Porky says:
Man o man.. What a great read and great memories.. Cooking fish we caught in the stream on an old piece of rusty fence wire… Stealing wood from the lumber yard, slidingssheets of plywood over the fence and dragging them up the RR tracks to build a fort.. Buying books of matches at the country store and having match fights.. And setting a field on fire once.. Tennis ball cannons… cut top and bottoms of pop canscanstape together. hole in bottom can, add lighter fluid and lit it..boom,just like a bazooka.. and then we graduated to lighting the tennis balls on fire.. Flaming bazooka wars…. jumping trains to ride to your friends house way up the road… It was the best of times and the worst of times?… Like some others here, high school sucked, l don’t remember anything of senior year. But I wouldn’t trade if for any time… You’ve converted a new blog follower
14th November 2014 at 8:45 pm
Elpidio Corona - I'm not a douche says:
Stuck, please tell James your ‘tastes like chicken’ story.
Billy, are you obsessed with me? Why did you post my pic above?
14th November 2014 at 9:08 pm
Elpidio Corona - Psychoanalyst says:
Here’s a neat little self exam I made up, it requires no gloves or special gaydar equipment:
How to determine if you are a latent or flaming gay boy
1. You like hot dogs from der Weinerschnitzel (or can spell Wienerschitzel)
2. You enjoy an occasional hot sausage at Costco
3. You call another man’s package an egg basket
4. You enjoy the heft of your own piece (real men do not hold their dick in front of the urinal)
14th November 2014 at 9:29 pm
Iska Waran says:
What’s the ruling on holding another guy’s dick in front of the urinal?
Couple other things from the olden days (not things I did, just things that were): sonic booms and aerosol cans blowing up while trash was burning. Sonic booms were unbelievable. You were just sitting there outside on the patio having a lemonade and thinking about holding another guy’s dick at the urinal when – with no warning at all – the loudest explosion you ever heard went off and scared the shit out of everyone. Then there was burning garbage. Every house had a 55 gallon drum along the alley. There was no recycling. Everything went into that drum and got lit on fire around 7 pm. One of my jobs every night at age 6 was to “go light the trash”. Mom handed me a pack of matches and sent me on my way. Almost everyone lit their trash every night. Every 15 minutes or so you’d hear an explosion as some mom’s empty can of Final Net blew up.
14th November 2014 at 10:12 pm
Stucky says:
Comment on RE’s Doomstead Diner from someone named Eddie; ….
“The comments section of The Burning Platform is ruled by some of the most racist, misogynist, homophobic, red-neck assholes you’d never want to meet.”
Hey, Billy …. you made quite an impression!!! :mrgreen
14th November 2014 at 10:16 pm
EC says:
Porky, take note, this place is not for the weak of dick.
14th November 2014 at 10:19 pm
Bob-o says:
Great post….and so so true. Things have really gone to $hit in the last 50 years.
Still remember my dad sending me to the store at 7 of 8 years old to get him packs of Lucky Strikes (25 cents)…..and the refreshing rubbery taste of Luke warm water out of the hose in summertime.
14th November 2014 at 10:20 pm
Iska Waran says:
Someone above asked if we had minorities back in the olden days. Yes. Six black boys would ride into our neighborhood on two bikes. Twenty minutes later they’d ride out on six bikes. Is that rayciss, or is it just true?
14th November 2014 at 10:29 pm
Gayle says:
Funny, I haven’t read one mention of autism, gluten intolerance, or food allergies in all of these memoirs.
14th November 2014 at 10:50 pm
Jackson, independent and prickly but submissive when it comes to safety, says:
Stucky… another great, thoughtful post. All your long essays have been wonderful.
About then and now, I have emotionally fond memories and rational observations.
The warm memories involve B-B guns, pellet guns, knife games, rock wars, fist fights, jumping into the swimming pool from the roof, all kinds of firecrackers, underground shafts and caves, bicycle recklessness (riding on the handlebars, shoes on the pavement for brakes), drag races out by the river, and some other stuff that was even more risky but panned out so I can smile about it now. That was then.
Then also included many friends and acquaintances who killed themselves in their cars. The high school and college years were grim reapers. Mostly it was driving too fast. Drink was a sometimes cause too. Generally lack of safe products and unawareness of product and situation dangers were behind many injuries and fatalities. My youngest brother and I almost drowned in different incidents because my parents weren’t careful about keeping an eye on us. Ignorance about food and lifestyle choices killed my mother and several of my aunts and uncles well before their time.
Now, product safety requirements (particularly concerning cars and the roadways) have saved many, including our eldest son – thank God for airbags. Other regulations and requirements (OSHA, traffic laws, liquor regulations, code enforcement inspections, and some others) that I’ve had experience with, I’m in favor of. Airline regulation has made commercial plane travel extraordinarily safe. All this has been imposed from the top, “by government imposing its standards upon us,” as Stucky says.
Although I’m more independent and self-reliant than most, I’m generally in favor of government safety regulation. Then and the good old days were great, as I first remember them. But they could have been better if someone had been forcing, encouraging, or educating all to buy, act, and think with safety and health in mind.
14th November 2014 at 10:53 pm
llpoh says:
Jackson – people should look up the stats then and now re death by vehicle. The death rate was appalling back then – those old cars were death traps. Good riddance.
14th November 2014 at 11:03 pm
Elpidio Corona - Douche says:
Iska did not get sufficient credit over on the Diner, just Billy. Damn shame.
Hey, Billy study up on Iska’s racist post, see what ‘subtle’ looks like.
Who am I kidding? The gulf between Iska and Billy is like the gulf between Marcello Mastroianni and Ryan O’Neal.
14th November 2014 at 11:48 pm
Elpidio Corona - Douche says:
il douche has no fond memories but plenty of my buddies did.
Old Red said he and his brother were only 14 but they were already over 6 ft and so got into the strip show at the fair. Stripper was over 40 and in poor shape. Red said the more she took off, the more they cringed.
Old boss said his first car cost $50 and he painted it with spray paint.
15th November 2014 at 12:27 am
old school says:
Thanks to all that shared the good old days while we where free some others were plotting to take over ie Gorge Soros we let ower regard down now we left are country to the wolves of Wallstreet to sell everything yall worked for and the real face of these wolves are going to show there real faces repent Jesus is lord
15th November 2014 at 2:35 am
Eagleman1969 says:
Scouts were the BEST! Got my Eagle in 1969, graduated in 1970. Lake Erie was across the street, learned how to “fish” for minnows and small stuff with M-80s after watching PT 109.
Had a red, single speed bike, called it FireBall XL 5. Those that know will recognize that name.
Hit Stormin’ Norman one day when a skipping rock took a wrong turn. Hit him dead center and full speed in the forehead. Thought I killed him. A little swearing later, we just settled out of court.
Cut trees behind Granparents to build forts, camp out overnight in the woods. Dammed up the local ditch, an endless supply of minnows, crayfish, pollywogs, and salamanders. And an occassional BIG FRIGGIN’ black snake just crusing along.
We Scouts dammed up Turkey Creek one entire Friday-Saturday-Sunday beach campout. It changed course after the dam broke. ALWAYS we were outside and unsupervised (except for Scouts) until it got dark. No one flipped out or put tracker chips in their kids.
1971-1972, ran a Save More gas station part time while in college. GASOLINE was 24.9 cents and smokes 3 packs for a dollar. All taxes INCLUDED. Let’s see, 60 cigs per $1.00; that’s 1.67 cents each. And the companies selling, trucking, manufacturing, advertising, etc. all made money.
Good times, great comments.
15th November 2014 at 2:37 am
IndenturedServant says:
(real men do not hold their dick in front of the urinal)
You do if you don’t want it to drag on the urinal cake.
15th November 2014 at 3:27 am
Reverse Engineer says:
15th November 2014 at 5:16 am
Reverse Engineer says:
15th November 2014 at 5:22 am
Reverse Engineer says:
15th November 2014 at 5:29 am
Reverse Engineer says:
15th November 2014 at 5:34 am
Reverse Engineer says:
15th November 2014 at 5:51 am
Reverse Engineer says:
OK, now for real NOSTALGIA Musical BLOW YOU AWAY, the AMAZING Jay BLack…
Start with the Original Recording of Cara Mia in 1964…
15th November 2014 at 6:03 am
Reverse Engineer says:
15th November 2014 at 6:04 am
Reverse Engineer says:
Now Jay Black in 2011….
15th November 2014 at 6:06 am
Reverse Engineer says:
15th November 2014 at 6:08 am
Reverse Engineer says:
A Magic Moment…
15th November 2014 at 6:15 am
Reverse Engineer says:
15th November 2014 at 6:16 am
Billy says:
“The comments section of The Burning Platform is ruled by some of the most racist, misogynist, homophobic, red-neck assholes you’d never want to meet.”
Sounds like one of those phony-assed “tolerant” motherfuckers… they “tolerate” literally anything – the more depraved and debauched the better (hey, it’s not perversion! It’s a “lifestyle choice”)… except you disagreeing with them or not sharing their opinion… or dissent.
Fuck whoever “Eddie” is… and all the “Eddies” of the world…
15th November 2014 at 7:19 am
James says:
“– James
Are you gay?
Me too. So, don’t worry about it.”
I go both ways. So to speak.
Why would a gay man say that stuff about it being better when there were no openly gay boys in the Boy Scouts? I took this as a heterosexist / homophobic comment.
15th November 2014 at 10:52 am
IndenturedServant says:
James said:
” I took this as a heterosexist / homophobic comment.”
That’s what happens when you jump to conclusions.
If guys want to spend their days looking forward to a stank butthole and hairy nuts in their face, more power to ‘em! I just don’t see why it has to be anybody’s business but theirs. The retarded part is that the fudgepackers put their business out there for the world to see and then they don’t expect to be judged for it. Brilliant fucking idea! Then you all double down on the retard and invite the govt to get more involved in your lives. How dumb do you have to be to invite the govt, which destroys everything it touches, to get MORE fucking involved in your life. Maybe the ass-pounding you take damages brain cells?
Why not keep your fudgepacking private and act like the man that you appear to be in public?
15th November 2014 at 11:36 am
IndenturedServant says:
My apologies Stuckeroo. Excellent post and predominantly excellent comments.
I started to post a comment but it got so long I decided to make it into a post of it’s own which I will submit later in the week so as not to steal your thunder.
15th November 2014 at 11:39 am
Stucky says:
“Why would a gay man say that stuff about it being better when there were no openly gay boys in the Boy Scouts? I took this as a heterosexist / homophobic comment.” ———– James
As a gay man, I know that my proclivities near the anal regions are VERY DISRUPTIVE to the status quo. There is no need for that. I remember the first time I outed myself. It was during a Pot Luck dinner at St Peter’s Church. Sister Mary Frances asked I wanted some hamburger, and I told her that I preferred Tube Steak. After I ‘splained to her what that was, she slumped forward into her bowl of pork ‘n beans and died right on the spot. Thereafter, I swore to keep my secret to myself …. until this post. Peace be upon me.
15th November 2014 at 12:03 pm
Stucky says:
I_S
I just shot my wad regarding my thunder (see above post).
NOW would be a good time to post your article. Help me deflect the heat I’m about to receive from this site’s homophobes! Weekends are slow … a new original article would be g-r-r-r-eat.
15th November 2014 at 12:07 pm
Iska Waran says:
I looked up heterosexist in the Straight Man’s Dictionary. It means “normal”.
15th November 2014 at 12:12 pm
Iska Waran says:
15th November 2014 at 12:19 pm
Kill Bill says:
I was in boy scouts and we did have some that liked men… in fact all our scout leaders liked men.
But most of our dads worked alot.
ALL my troop Scout Leaders were my and other kids mothers.
15th November 2014 at 12:19 pm
Anonymous says:
Ooo, Stoppp itt Stucky. You are suchhh a thilly boy.
15th November 2014 at 12:21 pm
Iska Waran says:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tmFsJg-36zg
15th November 2014 at 12:21 pm
Elpidio Corona - Douche says:
This could have easily gone to 300 comments, it is more universal than soccer which got 301 comments. you guys have barely scratched the surface. senility creeping in? no one mentioned the honeymooners, red skelton, malt-o-meal, davy crockett, bomb drills, the assassination memories, gi joe, 45’s, sock hops, letter jackets, edsel, card board sleds, inner tube sleds, playing cards on your bike wheel, suicide knobs, ponytails, hair salons, sears,
when an old man dies, an entire history dies with him
15th November 2014 at 2:45 pm
Peaceout says:
Late to memory lane here, great post Stucky! It has been fun to read all the stories from everybody here that had similar experiences as myself and the kids I grew up with. The parenting being the same, be home before dinner, wait until your father hears about this your gonna get the belt, I’m gonna wash your mouth out with soap, and all the rest.
I remember being gone all day riding my one speed Schwinn Typhoon, parents had no idea where I was and really didn’t care as long as I was home by dinner, no helmet, no money just a sense of adventure and the freedom to go and do what I wanted.
Rock fights and BB gun fights in the woods, nobody ever lost an eye and it was a ton of fun.
Sneaking off with cigarettes and parents booze and trying to look cool while trying all that for the first time.
Sitting in your tree fort with your buddies crowded around a Playboy magazine seeing what a naked woman looked like for the first time.
All day games of pickup baseball, tackle football with no pads, the occasional fight.
All good stuff and fun to think about from time to time, feel bad that things are so different today.
15th November 2014 at 3:34 pm
Didius Julianus says:
I was lucky and had a great bunch of original GI Joes and accessories. also had the Lost in Space robot and the Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea sub. also had some HO scale electric trains, lots of plastic army men (I used to spend a lot of time lininng them up in armies). Plastic dinosaurs. Hmmm…
How about those big fabric covered coils that ,ust have been up to 8 feet long or so that were indoor tunnels you could get in and crawl through?
What about large toy “plush” stuffed snakes that were as big as you were (or bigger?) My brother and I each one of those when we were little and slept in bed with them.
I remember a small scale (say equivalent to HO) sci-fi plastic track and “space ship” type battery powered rovers that run on plastic track we set up. It was called “Shangri-La” city.
Or what about the Presto “Hot Dogger” to electrocute all your tasty and oh so healthy hot dogs?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aUAkezGstlQ
http://blog.kevmo314.com/presto-hotdogger.html
15th November 2014 at 4:51 pm
Billy says:
GI Joe with Kung Fu grip!
15th November 2014 at 7:11 pm
Billy says:
Then there was…. STRETCH ARMSTRONG!!! (who only lasted until we put him in the freezer overnight “to see what happened”…)
Anyone remember Shrinky Dinks?
And only the absolute best board game of all time!!
I played this well into the 1990’s… we had Risk tournaments.. play for 8 or 10 hours, then someone else would take your seat and continue to play while you got some sleep… come back the next day, and the same game is still going… One epic game lasted a whole week…
To make it more interesting, we combined two games into one, plus added a new cards we made up…
– Safe Passage. Allowed you to traverse occupied territory to attack someone on the other side.
– Airborne! Allowed you a parachute drop of troops anywhere on the board. Roll of the dice determined how many troops landed safely.
– Storm the Beach! Allowed you one amphibious landing anywhere on the board, provided the country is in contact with a major body of water.
– Retreat into your supply lines. You could do like the Russians did and trade ground for troops. Every country you ceded to the enemy got you “X” number of extra armies.
– Mercenaries!! Playing this card got you extra troops. Roll of dice times 10 determines number of troops awarded.
– Chemical/Biological card Enemies troops get hit with the Black Death or with Sarin or Soman. Roll of the dice determines percentage of survivors.
Makes the game way, way more interesting…
– Nuclear card. Exactly what it says it is. You nuke your enemy. Roll of the dice determines percentage of survivors.
15th November 2014 at 7:50 pm
Didius Julianus says:
Hi Billy,
Man those were some great times, thanks for posting the pics. Sure wish I had all my old toys now, could make a killing on eBay but would probably just keep them. ( I Think that Lost in Space Robot, Mint in Box, would go for $10k now!!)
Oh, what about Matchbox cars when they came in their little box and were really neat? I bought some of these as “new old stock” in the late 1980s that I still have and they are from the exact time when I was little and loving those things (late 1960s, very early 1970s). I got into Matchbox before Hot Wheels came along so did not like the hot wheels as much but did love the hot wheels racing track and the ones that had the small engines in them that helped them zoom around the track.
Darn, I used to have that Matchbox carrying case pictured below too…
15th November 2014 at 9:06 pm
Elpidio Corona - Douche says:
who gave matchbox thumbs down?
15th November 2014 at 11:08 pm
Egalitarian Smasher says:
I was born in ’78, and so grew up in the ’80s and ’90s in a large wooded suburb of Houston. Many of your childhood experiences were the same for my generation. I watched things begin to change in earnest, for the worst, just as I reached adulthood.
There were pussified kids then, with overbearing parents, but they were the minority. My large group of friends were rowdy – often bordering on delinquency. We had a great deal of freedom.
Before age 11 was characterized by building forts, shooting BB guns (and sometimes at each other), firecracker wars, riding bikes everywhere, marveling over Playboys, swimming in polluted water, lots of wrestling and rambunctious play & games. Most had Nintendos and the like, but that would get boring fast.
Ages 12 to 16.. our attention turned to cigarettes, pot, LSD, and alcohol. Now those were some fun times. Sneaking out. Corrupting girls. Many, many times did we run from the local constables on our bicycles, who seemingly had nothing better to do than chase teenagers with a few joints in their pockets who were hanging out at the playground after dark.
16 to 18. Cars. Keg parties. This period of my life was actually less fun than the ones previous.
Really, that whole period of childhood from say, age 8 to 18, was so action-packed I’ve almost forgotten much of it.
Anyway, nowadays, ‘culture’ and chemicals have conspired to rob young boys of a truly fun childhood.
15th November 2014 at 11:15 pm
Reverse Engineer says:
15th November 2014 at 11:27 pm
Didius Julianus says:
Hi Elpidio Corona – Douche,
Regarding “who gave matchbox thumbs down? ” Probably one of those kids who grew up and latched onto Hot Wheels which, I have to admit, could roll a lot better, but were not as faithful models as Matchbox were. An age old rivalry!
16th November 2014 at 12:34 am
Elpidio Corona - Douche says:
Your Mustang reminded me of the car models we used to assemble with a little tube of glue
16th November 2014 at 1:54 am
Regular Joe says:
Longtime lurker, first time commenter. Just read aloud to my other half some of the best comments, for the nostalgia kick. He’s in his late 50’s and the shit he got away with, just like most of you, back in the day… Wow. I asked him for something to contribute to the thread. He reminded me of the time he climbed into the choir loft of the Lutheran church his family attended, while the service was being held.. He spotted a lady with a beehive (remember those?) and, typical of him, acted without thinking. He found a few roofing nails up there in the loft, and leaned over the railing and dropped the nails, one by one, into the lady’s beehive hairdo. I guess he was close enough that his aim was true. Anyway she felt something happening up there. Maybe the nails pricked her scalp and they felt like bites. And so her imagination ran away with her, and she screamed bloody murder right there in the service. She was batting at her ‘do and screeching that there was bees or ants or something in there, and of course the whole service was disrupted from then on. He snuck away before anyone noticed him, but let’s just say he was chronically in trouble for stupid pranks like these. Other stories include being the cause of his teacher’s 6 week leave of absence for putting a live kitten in her file cabinet, knowing full well she was terrified of cats. She screamed when she found it, jumped on top of her desk in her high heels, and so the principal had to come see what the commotion was about, and ended up having to give her time off for a nervous breakdown.
Being 17 years younger than him, my boyhood pranks can’t compare, although my friend Ryan and I tortured our 5th grade teacher in ways that make me ashamed, actually… She was ineffective at best. One day after she bitched Ryan out for something, he told me she looked like a chicken parading around in her high-heel thigh boots, and from then on we called her Mrs Bach (as in, bawk), and I drew cartoons about her, which made the rounds of the class. From then on, every kid sassed her something awful, til she pretty much lost control of the class. I remember one kid sticking yardsticks in his back pockets like chicken feathers, and walking around flapping his arms and clucking like a chicken. We were awful, but if we had done that today? Probably charged with felonies, the whole lot of us.
The dumbest thing my friend next-door and I did one winter was try to walk across the creek near our houses, thinking it was frozen enough to cross. It wasn’t. We sank to our waists in icy water and man were we chilled. We hoofed it for home, hoping to evade parental scrutiny, but my mom spotted us, all wet in the winter wonderland. (I know, I know, pathetic compared to some of the shit you all did.) Anyway I had to confess and got sent home to dry off before I caught cold. The neighbor kid was home alone a lot since both parents traveled for work. He never got busted for anything, but I at least had parents who were around more, and a big family who watched out for me while my parents worked. Some of the countryside jaunts and north country experiences of my boyhood remain fond memories, all the more so because I see kids nowadays who will never have such memories, being strapped into strollers by their helicopter parents. It’s sickening, and it’s getting worse all the time.
Thanks for letting me ramble.
PS: See, James? It’s possible to share a bit about myself as a man who is in a longtime relationship with another man, without making it a production of it. It’s better to just be yourself, to let your actions and integrity speak for themselves, and people will respect you much more than if you feel you have to make a point.
16th November 2014 at 10:25 am
Administrator says:
Regular Joe
Is the “See James?” for me?
I didn’t write the article. Stucky wrote the article.
16th November 2014 at 10:34 am
Stucky says:
I did NOT write this article.
It was a “Stucky” doppleganger!! A homophobe POS!!!
16th November 2014 at 10:56 am
Elpidio Corona - Douche says:
You guys are being so nice, for the first time in my life, I am proud of TBP.
16th November 2014 at 3:34 pm
Stucky says:
Four more comments to 200!!
Giddy-up, horsey, giddy-up!!!!
16th November 2014 at 3:51 pm
IndenturedServant says:
No admin. Scroll up to see where “James” the “look at me prancing fag” buzzkill whined about Stucky’s gays in the boy scouts comment. James wants everybody to know he smokes pole but doesn’t want to be judged for it.
16th November 2014 at 4:06 pm
James Matthew Shepard says:
“No admin. Scroll up to see where “James” the “look at me prancing fag” buzzkill whined about Stucky’s gays in the boy scouts comment.”
Sorry, but where I come from we consider comments like this ugly and mean. And we think it’s fine if a Boy Scout happens to be same-sex attracted. And we feel obligated to point out that bigotry is not nice.
I’m glad I don’t live where you live.
16th November 2014 at 4:22 pm
Peaceout says:
I can remember when I finally got an electric football game, first kid in the neighborhood to get one, I thought the game was going to be cool as hell.
After setting up all the players for a play you turn on the vibrating surface and the players would start moving in all sorts of random directions, never worked like we hoped, We spent hours and hours trying though good times. And it was cool.
16th November 2014 at 4:27 pm
James Matthew Shepard says:
PS –
Rabid homophobes like IndenturedServant are considered by many in the psychological and psychiatric world to very likely be suffering from repressed latent homoeotic inclination. It’s okay, IndenturedServant, I don’t think your repressed homosexual tendencies are anything to be ashamed of.
16th November 2014 at 4:32 pm
hardscrabble farmer says:
Really great piece, glad you wrote it.
My children constantly beg me to tell them stories about my childhood. They especially love the ones where I get hurt doing insane child stunts that easily could have ended my life but always wind up with nothing more than a little scar tissue. My folks bragged about having a deal with the local doctor to stitch me up.
A couple of things we did to add to the mix-
Smash-O-Fing-O was a favorite. One of my friends had a pool table in the basement. Each kid would stand at either end of the pool table with the fingers of his left hand curled over the rail. You could slide your fingers back and forth, but you could not take them off the rail. With your right hand you would attempt to fling the balls across the felt and smash the fingertips of the kid a the other end. It was a fast game and really exciting. If you took your fingers off the rail, you hand to put both sets of fingers on the rail without moving them and the other guy got a free shot. I remember we always had dark purple fingernails that Summer.
Baby doll flame throwers. We’d saw the top of a big plastic baby doll head off and the foot, too. You’d spray paint inside the head and then light it on fire and use the arm/leg as handles while another kid would spray paint through the foot and up into the hollow baby doll body. Flames would shoot out of the top of the baby doll head. We did this in the basement when it was raining out- no risk of fire or explosion there.
Once a friend and I took a big can of black powder and a bunch of models out into a field. We took the deck off a battleship model and filled it to the brim with black powder, then put the top on and sprinkled some more on it. I kept lighting the matches and tossing them at it (I think I must have sensed we were messing with something dangerous) and the matches would go out. My friend said “Not like that.” and proceeded to lean over it and light the black powder. I remember there was a cloud like you see out of a civil war cannon and my friend literally disappeared into it. We were both laughing like crazy until the smoke cleared and we realized he had burned off the front half of his hair, his eyebrows and lashes and completely scorched his glasses so the were opaque. We had to try and cover it up so we put on a hat, drew eyebrows on with magic marker and doused him with Hai Karate aftershave. He reeked of burned hair and cologne. I recall that there were beatings after that incident.
Life is full of risks, you don’t live unless you take them and you certainly can’t learn the most valuable lessons unless there’s feedback from bad decisions.
Thanks for posting that, I enjoyed the comments immensely.
16th November 2014 at 4:36 pm
Stucky says:
HF — thanks.
Peaceout … you were obiously raised a 1%er. I got this el-cheapo carboard hockey game. Actually it was fun …. but all their heads fell off after one year.
When I was high school my dad bought me a fussball table …. without the bunnies. We had endless HOURS of fun playing it.
16th November 2014 at 5:02 pm
Elpidio Corona - Douche says:
James sounds like a fighter, good on him. Swing away, James, the latent homos here could use an ass-kicking. Stuck said he changed from Neo-Con just by coming here to TBP, perhaps a few Latents will open their eyes. I look forward to hearing about I-S’ conversion.
16th November 2014 at 5:07 pm
Peaceout says:
Stucky – That hockey game was the bomb, at least you could control what was going on, the electric football was always a cluster. Ha, 1%’er my fat hairy ass….
16th November 2014 at 6:26 pm
IndenturedServant says:
James the Flamer wrote:
“I’m glad I don’t live where you live.”
Me too. You could learn something from the homos that live around here. They aren’t the flaming variety, prancing around and insisting that you acknowledge, understand and accept their perversions and give them special rights because of it. Actually you wouldn’t learn anything from them because they behave like adults and you’re not there yet. If you were, no one here would know you smoke pole and pack fudge.
I’m not the slightest bit homophobic. I could care less. Wanna get married? Fine. No reason heteros should suffer alone in that regard. Just keep what goes on in your bedroom and private life…….PRIVATE……..like the rest of us. No latent homo desires here because I believe that dicks are for chicks.
16th November 2014 at 6:41 pm
IndenturedServant says:
“Sorry, but where I come from we consider comments like this ugly and mean. And we think it’s fine if a Boy Scout happens to be same-sex attracted. And we feel obligated to point out that bigotry is not nice.”
But you do believe in and support free speech right? You’re right, bigotry is not nice. War is not nice. Being financially raped by our govt and bankers is not nice. Having our Liberties stolen from us is not nice. People forcing their sexual perversions on others is not nice either. What’s your point?
Tell ya what……….right above every post I make it says “IndenturedServant”. Don’t like what I have to say? Feel free to skip it and move on.
16th November 2014 at 6:54 pm
IndenturedServant says:
No conversion here EC. I came here fully formed. Admins Eastwood series and others helped fill in a few blanks with respect to the economics of collapse. That it needed to collapse was a forgone conclusion. The comments, diversity of opinion and freedom of speech among the comments sealed the deal for me and TBP became home after lurking for a year or more. My views on the military did change a bit. Having been born on an AF base and living my entire life up to age 29 on bases all over the world, I had a more forgiving view with regards to the military but I could not for the life of me see why we need to be involved in so many wars. TBP helped with that too. I learn all manner of things here but most of my basic premises about life are only reenforced and given substance here. I really appreciate TE’s posts about alternatives to big pharma healthcare. I appreciate her stuff as much as I appreciate admins posts.
16th November 2014 at 7:25 pm
Olga says:
Another fond memory.
The neighborhood I grew up in had alleys running down the middle of the blocks with former carriage barns turned into garages and/or storage. On the other side of “our” alley was the rectory that had a double lot with a rose garden and statues of the Virgin Mother sprinkled about. Across the street from the rectory was the Catholic church, convent and the school we all attended.
That particular summer bats had been a real problem. These were Victorian homes w/ tall ceilings and the only “known” way to get a bat out included the use of tennis rackets. The removal of a bat was quite a scene and there were times the whole neighborhood got involved.
We kids decided it was appropriate to explore the upper stories of the carriage houses, find the bat droppings, look up to find the bat hanging there and attempt to kill them with these 1950’s tennis rackets that seemed to be quite common.
[We were in the city limits and none of us had guns – sorry – ancient tennis rackets were the best we could do]
One summer day we whacked a bat out into the alley from the hay door and someone had the bright idea to cremate the dead thing. Gasoline was procured and the dead bat was addressed.
The un-dead bat took off, lit up like a Vegas show, and flew into the priest’s garden, taking a nose dive directly into one of the Virgin Mothers. You have never seen a dozen kids run faster – convinced we were all going to hell.
As an aside – my kids were always a bit more “free range” than everyone else’s in the ‘hood and I caught some flak for that – looking back I wish I had home schooled. I didn’t know the damage I was inflicting by sending them to government school.
16th November 2014 at 8:16 pm
Reverse Engineer says:
“I’m not the slightest bit homophobic.”-IS
You’re not? In the very same post right above this you remark:
” They aren’t the flaming variety, prancing around and insisting that you acknowledge, understand and accept their perversions ”
Identifying Homosexuality as Perversion is the essence of Homophobia. Homosexuals don’t think this is “perverted”, and they don’t like being ostracized as being perverted.
Far as the Boy Scouts comment is concerned, the problem here is the confusion between Pedophilia and Homosexuality. The implication is that Scoutmasters are recruiting Boy Scouts into the ranks.
For as long as the Boy Scouts have existed, there have always been some homosexual males participating in the organization, and there always will be. They represent something like 10% of the total population, more if you include people who self-identify as bisexual.
The main issue is you do not cross the 18 Threshold, but that is true for Heterosexuals also.
RE
16th November 2014 at 8:16 pm
Stucky says:
“Identifying Homosexuality as Perversion is the essence of Homophobia.” —- RE
Bullshit.
pervert — [pər vʉrt′; for n. pʉr′vʉrt′], noun … The definition of a pervert is a person with abnormal sexual behavior. —————- http://www.yourdictionary.com/pervert
Is the norm in human society to Pack Fudge? Well, is it?? No. Therefore, what homos engage in, by definition, is a perversion.
And don’t even give me any crap about what is “normal”. Someone said, “I may not know how to define pornography, but I know it when I see it.”
I’ll tell you what I HATE HATE HATE when it comes to discussion about homos, or other perversions. And that is the MOMENT one gives their opinion that one doesn’t like or approve of that behavior, along comes the other and screams “HOMOPHOBE!!!” This is a Royal Crock Of Shittery, and you also are guilty of it.
Why would I, Stucky, God Of Thunder, 6’7″ and 275 pounds of both fat (good for absorbing punches) and muscle (good for giving punches) be afraid of some Fudge Packers?? Gimme a damn break. I think it’s a rather disgusting act … so what, why should you or anyone care about that opinion …. and why the fuck can’t it be left at that??!!
.
.
.
“Homosexuals don’t think this is “perverted”” ——— RE
That’s retarded. Necrophiliacs don’t consider fucking dead bodies abnormal either. Surely, you do. That one who engages in perverted acts doesn’t consider them perverted acts …. oooh, ahhh, what a surprise in circular logic!
16th November 2014 at 8:55 pm
Reverse Engineer says:
What is “outside the norm of human sexual behavior”? How about Oral Sex? Not everybody does that, hetero or homo. You gotta just do it Missionary to be normal?
Necrophiliacs are an insignificantly tiny percentage of the population, I think you can fairly say that is outside the norm.
Greater than 10% of people engaging in oral and anal sex seems well within the norm to me. Females have anal sex sometimes, is that also off limits?
RE
16th November 2014 at 9:09 pm
IndenturedServant says:
RE, homophobia is a fear or prejudice against homosexuals. I’m not afraid of them or prejudiced against them. My issue is their constant need to force everyone else to accept what is a private fucking matter. James can smoke all the pole he wants as long as it is consensual and the rest of the world isn’t forced to hear about it. I could care less what they do in private.
As far as scouting goes I don’t think the issue is “confusion” between pedophilia and homosexuality but I will concede that fear plays a part. A bigger part is one of God and Christian based values being part of the founding principles of scouting. The scout oath even mentions God by name referring to duty to God. Does the bible mention something about men not laying with other men?
Where the fuck do homos get off forcing their acceptance and inclusion in an organization founded on Christian principles? Let them form their own fucking scouting groups based on their beliefs. But oh no, good, happy decent people with a successful going concern are expected, nay forced, to set aside their beliefs an accommodate whatever the all inclusive liberals care to force on them. What’s next? Jihadi kids with IED making merit badges?
Gays in the scouts is just another example of liberal progressive douchebags destroying everything they take a mind to.
16th November 2014 at 9:16 pm
Reverse Engineer says:
“Where the fuck do homos get off forcing their acceptance and inclusion in an organization founded on Christian principles?”-IS
This would be valid if the Scouts only accepted Christian Scouts, except there are plenty of Jewish, Muslim and Buddhist Boy Scouts out there too. It’s not a Christian organization, it is secular.
I think the Muslims frown on Homosexuality even more than Christians, but Jews and Buddhists seem more tolerant of this.
Far as Native American cultures go, Homosexuals were respected as being of “Two Spirits”.
“Native Americans have often held intersex, androgynous people, feminine males and masculine females in high respect. The most common term to define such persons today is to refer to them as “two-spirit” people, but in the past feminine males were sometimes referred to as “berdache” by early French explorers in North America, who adapted a Persian word “bardaj”, meaning an intimate male friend. Because these androgynous males were commonly married to a masculine man, or had sex with men, and the masculine females had feminine women as wives, the term berdache had a clear homosexual connotation. Both the Spanish settlers in Latin America and the English colonists in North America condemned them as “sodomites”.
We-Wa, a Zuni Two Spirit.Rather than emphasising the homosexuality of these persons, however, many Native Americans focused on their spiritual gifts. American Indian traditionalists, even today, tend to see a person’s basic character as a reflection of their spirit. Since everything that exists is thought to come from the spirit world, androgynous or transgender persons are seen as doubly blessed, having both the spirit of a man and the spirit of a woman. Thus, they are honoured for having two spirits, and are seen as more spiritually gifted than the typical masculine male or feminine female.”
http://www.firstpeople.us/articles/the-two-spirit-people-of-indigenous-north-americans.html
RE
16th November 2014 at 9:29 pm
Stucky says:
I absolutely KNEW you would counter with the what-is-normal crapola … even though I asked you not to do so ….. meaning, for fucks sake, find a better argument.
That 10% of all men are Fudge Packers has been going around for decades. I think the homos came up with that to justify their perversion. Really, I do. It’s one of those lies if repeated often enough becomes an unquestioned fact.
I can think of 20 men I know … father, sons, in-laws, other relatives and friends … and I know for damn sure that two of them are NOT Fudge Packers.
There are 151 million males in America. If you want to believe that 15 MILLION travel the Hershey Highway … well, have at it. Whatever floats your boat.
In my eyes, it’s a perversion. I don’t give a rats ass who is offended by that. And I am done with this conversation. Time to go to bed ……… with a WOMAN.
16th November 2014 at 9:29 pm
Stucky says:
“Far as Native American cultures go, Homosexuals were respected as being of “Two Spirits”.
———- RE
That explains a lot about Llpoh, aka Chief Two Spirits.
16th November 2014 at 9:32 pm
Administrator says:
As usual RE has a slight problem with numbers.
Health survey gives government its first large-scale data on gay, bisexual population
According to a CDC survery, less than 3 percent of the population identified themselves as gay, lesbian or bisexual. (Carlo Allegri/Reuters)
By Sandhya Somashekhar July 15
Less than 3 percent of the U.S. population identify themselves as gay, lesbian or bisexual, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention reported Tuesday in the first large-scale government survey measuring Americans’ sexual orientation.
The National Health Interview Survey, which is the government’s premier tool for annually assessing Americans’ health and behaviors, found that 1.6 percent of adults self-identify as gay or lesbian, and 0.7 percent consider themselves bisexual.
The overwhelming majority of adults, 96.6 percent, labeled themselves as straight in the 2013 survey. An additional 1.1 percent declined to answer, responded “I don’t know the answer” or said they were “something else.”
The figures offered a slightly smaller assessment of the size of the gay, lesbian and bisexual population than other surveys, which have pegged the overall proportion at closer to 3.5 or 4 percent. In particular, the estimate for bisexuals was lower than in some other surveys.
The inclusion of the sexual-orientation question in an influential survey used to guide government funding and research decisions was viewed as a major victory for the gay community, which has struggled with a dearth of data about its special health needs.
16th November 2014 at 9:42 pm
Reverse Engineer says:
The 10% figure comes from the Kinsey Report, circa 1948. Kinsey was not a fudge packer far as I know. However, the figure is disputed wildly, and it all depends how you define it.
Another thing you have to consider is circumstances. For instance, many men who are heterosexual outside prison or outside the Navy, once trapped with all other men in an environment turn to homosexuality. Do these folks count as homosexuals or not?
All of this is culturally instilled behavior, it’s pretty ubiquitous through time and many cultures so I don’t see how you can define it as outside the norm of human behavior.
RE
16th November 2014 at 9:46 pm
overthecliff says:
Stuckey, your posts are usually interesting and thought provoking. Now you must stop posting because you won’t top this one . You really struck a nerve with this one. GREAT!
16th November 2014 at 9:57 pm
Llpoh says:
The 10% gay figure is bullshit – the actual figure is more like two or three percent. The homos love to use ten percent as it makes them seem more like a large minority group than like aberrations to the norm. Not that there is anything wrong with that.
Stuck – my two spirits are scotch and blue agave Padron.
16th November 2014 at 10:10 pm
Llpoh says:
Patron. Whatever.
16th November 2014 at 10:12 pm
Iska Waran says:
I don’t care if a guy sucks a dick or takes it up the ass once in a while. Just don’t be a fag about it.
16th November 2014 at 11:42 pm
Elpidio Corona - Douche says:
16th November 2014 at 11:50 pm
IndenturedServant says:
RE said:
“This would be valid if the Scouts only accepted Christian Scouts, except there are plenty of Jewish, Muslim and Buddhist Boy Scouts out there too. It’s not a Christian organization, it is secular.”
Considering that the scouts do not accept atheists or agnostics I don’t think they can be considered secular.
17th November 2014 at 4:50 am
Billy says:
Some awesome comments!
Stucky, IS, Llpoh.. well done! Really!
About the most insipid comment so far – and you knew it was coming sooner or later – was the “such and such thinks that severe dislike of homosexuals is merely hiding latent homosexual tendencies…”
In other words, if you detest faggotry, you must be one…
No idea who thought that shit up, but it has to be the biggest fucking lie I’ve ever heard… and it shows up in every single conversation about faggotry, buggery or sodomy… EVERY TIME!!
I mean, really… how can you even come up with “logic” like that? It makes absolutely no sense whatsoever and is completely unprovable…
As far as the “bisexual” pervs… thanks for spoiling the party, assholes!!
AIDS was a faggot-exclusive disease. Then the “bisexual” dipshits brought it into the hetero population, sure as AIDS was brought into the human population by some über-perv nigger in Africa ass-raping a monkey…
You fuckers spoiled the fun… could have just left it alone, but ya didn’t… didja?
Thanks… really… ya stupid fucksticks…
17th November 2014 at 7:19 am
overthecliff says:
Please let us be more tolerant on this site. Homosexuals should be able to have an organization that affords them an opportunity to recruit your sons into the joys and fulfillment of homosexuality. Every boy needs the chance to go to the woods for a weekend with an adult mentor. (Sarcasm Off)
17th November 2014 at 8:45 am
overthecliff says:
Admin, I was going to suggest shutting down comments on this thread to keep Stuckeys head from swelling to much. Let it swell it is getting interesting.
17th November 2014 at 8:48 am
Stucky says:
OTC
Funny stuff …. but I never become overly proud of anything I write. Quite the opposite. I am very humbled when I write something that resonates with folks. And that’s because I know where I came from.
English class was BY FAR, for some reason, my toughest class in both grade school and high school … I barely passed, with a “D” being the norm. I couldn’t write a coherent paragraph for the longest damn time … you have no idea. Things finally started “clicking” while I was in the Air Force. I started taking “remote” writing classes (classes from various universities via …. snail mail), and started reading, believe it or not, the dictionary … with the goal of learning a minimum of 10 new words a day. Did that for years.
And 30+ years later, here I am. It was a long struggle, and I’m still a work-in-progress. For example, I’m quite envious (in a good way) of how Hardscrabble writes so poetically, and how Admin can take huge amounts of what can be boring economic data and make it simple and interesting …. and, while I know I may never achieve such proficiency, these are enjoyable things to strive towards.
17th November 2014 at 9:17 am
Elpidio Corona - Douche says:
I have denigrated homos before, Stuck but I meant no harm. With regards homos, it’s your thinking that convicts you, I have read: if a man does wrong thinking he’s right, then he’s right but if a man does right thinking he’s wrong, then he’s wrong. Funny, huh? Otherwise, we are no better than Muslim fanatics.
In matters of conscience, the soul must be left untrammeled. No one is to control another’s mind, to judge for another or to prescribe his duty. God gives every soul freedom to think and to follow his own convictions. Every one of us shall give account of himself to God. No one has a right to merge his own individuality in that of another. Romans 14:12 let every man be fully persuaded in his own mind.
17th November 2014 at 11:37 pm
flash says:
Remember back before Ipwnd ,hipsters and feminism , when boys still had nut-sacks to crush on bicycle bars?
18th November 2014 at 8:49 am
James Matthew Shepard says:
“I think it’s a rather disgusting act … so what, why should you or anyone care about that opinion …. and why the fuck can’t it be left at that??!!”
You’re focussing an awful lot on sex. The fact is that homophobic and heterosexist people — members of a dominating, pushy majority — invented “homosexuality” to designate what guys like me are supposed to be: “homosexuals”. But those who love people of the same sex engage in sex acts about, what, .005 % of the time they are together with the ones they love — just like so-called “straight” people (which are just as badly misnamed “heterosexuals”).
You should also know that not all gay men (to use the ever popular term, “gay”) engage in anal sex. Many do not, and it looks plain silly when you heap contempt upon them for doing something you find disgusting which in fact they do not do.
But the main point that needs to be made is that when you — or anyone — makes homophopic OR (OR!) heterosexist remarks you encourage and support a homophobic OR heterosexist culture, which amounts to encouraging gay and bi men, boys….(or people, more generally) either to stay in the closet or otherwise live with fear and shame regarding something which they naturally ARE. This is the part you don’t get. If you got an education, you’d understand that nothing could be more natural and normal for a gay or bi guy than to be gay or bi. (Same with same-sex attracted women.)
When you encourage people to believe that the Boy Scouts was better off before there were “out” gay boys in the troops, you’re encouraging abusive treatment of gay / bi boys. You’re encouraging them to be either afraid or ashamed of what they ARE — gay/bi boys. And that’s morally indecent and mean. It’s clear that you don’t mind them being gay or bi, so long as they don’t let anyone KNOW they are gay or bi — but how do you expect them to have BOYFRIENDS? Or life partners? Or lovers? IN SECRET?! You want them to hide in the shadows, lie about themselves….? What affect do you think such hiding has on their hearts, minds, souls? Their persons?
How about a little compassion and kindness toward gay and bi people, instead? Why not welcome them into the fold of humanity?
We appear, as best as anyone can know, to be born as we are. You want to call what we are naturally a “perversion,” but this is just plain ignorance of the fact that we simply ARE as we are, whether because of genetics or whatever.
Just be kind. It’s not that hard. Um, rather, difficiult.
18th November 2014 at 6:08 pm
James Matthew Shepard says:
overthecliff says:
” …. Homosexuals should be able to have an organization that affords them an opportunity to recruit your sons into the joys and fulfillment of homosexuality.”
None of us are recruited. Nobody CAN be recruited. Either we swing that way from the beginning or we don’t. Gay / bi guys are not made, we are born.
18th November 2014 at 6:15 pm
James Matthew Shepard says:
IndenturedServant says:
“RE, homophobia is a fear or prejudice against homosexuals. I’m not afraid of them or prejudiced against them. My issue is their constant need to force everyone else to accept what is a private fucking matter. James can smoke all the pole he wants as long as it is consensual and the rest of the world isn’t forced to hear about it. I could care less what they do in private.”
The discussion began in relation to a comment concerning whether gay boys–that is, openly gay boys– should be allowed in the Boy Scouts. People who side that they should not would, I imagine, like gay men also to be kept out of the military, out of teaching roles in schools, and generally out of public or social life altogether. It’s called ostracism, and it’s one of the meanest, cruelest things human beings do with one another.
“Forced to hear about it” — Really? So if we’re hanging out together and you mention that you have a girl friend, or wife, are you FORCING me to “hear about it”? Who exactly is forcing what? If I tell you in the flow of a conversation that I happen to have a guy partner, am I forcing something on you? What?
The hetersosexists in this thread want us to go back into the closet, apparenly. How’d you like to try an live your life in a closet? You might find it a little stuffy in there. Not much air to breathe.
18th November 2014 at 6:28 pm
Anonymous says:
Okay, time to toss in my two farthings.
Im not gay but its always a wonder to me when a person fascinates, good or bad, about the sexual acts and positiions, instead of if these people actually care about one another.
I see my neighbor, and his wife, but never have I wondered what sexual position they take. And the same goes for gays…I just don’t worry about it. It’s not my life or my business no matter WHO it is.
We don’t, well most of us, dont marry for sex but for a deep caring.
And while I am at it, every person, gay, lesbian, hetero, bi…whatever tightens your tutu or drops your boxers, comes from heterosexual sex.
BTW James, are you related to Stephanie Shepard?
18th November 2014 at 6:46 pm
James says:
“BTW James, are you related to Stephanie Shepard?”
No. My name really is James, but the Mattew Shepard part isn’t my real name. I used his name in order to try and make a point. Now that the point has been made, I’ll return to calling myself just James.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Matthew_Shepard
18th November 2014 at 6:57 pm
Kill Bill says:
The hetersosexists in this thread want us to go back into the closet, apparenly. How’d you like to try an live your life in a closet? -James
Stucky is not a homophobe, in fact I remember one article he wrote, meeting a famous , and yes gay, jazz player, and having a great time with his wife with said musician, over dinner. Maybe he will repost it.
18th November 2014 at 7:03 pm
Kill Bill says:
Now that the point has been made, I’ll return to calling myself just James. -James
Okay.
18th November 2014 at 7:04 pm
Stucky says:
Kill Bill
The famous jazz player was Earl Klugh …. he is not gay, he was there with his wife. He was there merely for the gay wedding, as was I.
I am not anti-gay … although it is a frequent accusation. There is NOTHING here that I wouldn’t, or haven’t, said to Ms. Freud’s gay friends. And guess what … they respect me for it. They aren’t the type of gay folks who are OFFENDED constantly and at everything.
Here is my post about the gay wedding experience —
http://www.theburningplatform.com/2013/06/16/a-homophobe-winds-up-having-a-gay-time-in-nyc/
18th November 2014 at 7:12 pm
llpoh says:
James – life is a bitch. There are all kinds of evil mofos out there. How about these fine homosexual fellows:
Jeffrey Dahmer
Andrew Cunanan
Randy Steven Kraft
Michael Swango
John Wayne Gacy
Patrick Wayne Kearney
David D. Hill
Wayne Williams
Dean Corll
Etc. etc. etc.
The list of homosexual serial killers is very, very long. Wonder why that is? Most of the world’s top serial killers were gay. Interesting fact, no?
18th November 2014 at 7:13 pm
Kill Bill says:
The famous jazz player was Earl Klugh …. he is not gay, he was there with his wife. He was there merely for the gay wedding, as was I. -Stucky
I stand corrected.
18th November 2014 at 7:26 pm
Kill Bill says:
Shit, Mosquitos have killed more humans than any nut-job.
18th November 2014 at 7:28 pm
Kill Bill says:
http://911review.org/Alex/Republican_Pedophiles.html
http://sexoffenderissues.blogspot.com/2008/09/top-10-democrat-sex-scandals-in.html
These people I am concerned about.
18th November 2014 at 7:33 pm
Kill Bill says:
Ummh, Gacy was married, twice.
18th November 2014 at 7:37 pm
Elpidio Corona - Douche says:
David and Jonathan loved each other greatly, I never think of them getting freaky, I don’t think of anyone getting their freak on. It’s called privacy.
18th November 2014 at 9:23 pm
llpoh says:
Gacy was queer as a three dollar bill.
” “He was a homophobic homosexual,” says Sam L. Amirante of John Wayne Gacy, the infamous murderer he defended in court “
18th November 2014 at 9:59 pm
Elpidio Corona - Douche says:
you forgot string can phones, can stilts, sixth finger (how’d I ever get along with just five?) slinky, slingshots, german cross pendants, surfer versus greaser, trolls, man from U.N.C.L.E. trenchcoats
18th November 2014 at 11:50 pm
Elpidio Corona - Douche says:
James, these guys panic at the sight of women breastfeeding in public. They have a thousand pet names for their dick but most of them are afraid to hold Captain Howdy at the urinal. It would terrify them to handle another dude’s Polish sausage. You stand a better chance of radicalizing them to fight for ISIS.
19th November 2014 at 12:04 am
Hey You! says:
Actually, I was a free sprit because parental oversight was at a minimum. Not sure how I managed to not kill myself regardless of some stupid chances, but I did survive. However, from my experiences, it was very appropriate to watch my kids like a hawk.
19th November 2014 at 7:48 pm
Kill Bll says:
” “He was a homophobic homosexual,” says Sam
OK, how does that even work?
19th November 2014 at 9:37 pm
llpoh says:
I guess it kinda didn’t.
19th November 2014 at 9:42 pm
Kill Bll says:
Hey You.
Buck up.
19th November 2014 at 9:43 pm
Kill Bll says:
llpoh….I have nothing to say, kindly.
=)
19th November 2014 at 9:46 pm
Elpidio Corona - Douche says:
Wasn’t J. Edgar a homophobic homo?
19th November 2014 at 11:38 pm
James says:
“The list of homosexual serial killers is very, very long. Wonder why that is? Most of the world’s top serial killers were gay. Interesting fact, no?”
Fact? I doubt that very much.
You’re obviously trying to stir up hate in a similar way as Adolf Hitler did. It’s called demonizing.
Related concepts and terms are:
Dehumanization
Delegitimization
Idealization and devaluation
Religious paranoia
Scapegoating
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Demonization
20th November 2014 at 5:53 pm
James says:
I knew it. The multisylabic words confounded ‘em!
Luckily, there are dictionaries online for those who can type.
21st November 2014 at 11:03 am
Rocketman says:
I’m about the same age that you are. I distinctly remember being in 10th or llth grade sitting in a classroom and the teacher was trying to open a box that really well taped up. He asked the class if anyone had a pocket knife to open the box with. A number of us farm boys normally carried pocket knives on us and I handed him mine. He opened the box and gave it back to me. Fast forward to today. Teacher discovers student with pocketknife on him. Teacher hits panic button and school is on immediate lockdown. Local SWAT team is called. Student is dragged out in handcuffs and taken to local jail where he is stripped searched and thrown into cell. Judge calls student a danger to school and is permanently thrown out and student then has black mark against him that stays with him the rest of his life. If this is progress you can have it.
21st November 2014 at 1:33 pm
EL Coyote says:
James, you’d be surprised how smart these guys really are, even Billy. It’s a common newbie mistake. Glad to see your still here.
Someone made a reference to you in the 30 blocks update. That means your in, buddy, welcome to the tribe. Your ass-kicking comes later, get ready.
21st November 2014 at 2:10 pm
MMP says:
I thought of a few things I didn’t see:
-Creating toxic “formulas.” We’d take a pill bottle or other bottle and combine portions of every liquid or powder we could find: Head and Shoulders, Colgate, dad’s Old Spice, bleach, rubbing alcohol, lighter fluid, AJAX, gasoline, etc. Shake it up…then go outside and pour it on, ants, pincher bugs, etc., and see if they would die. Almost never did anything die, unless we poured so much on them they drowned. But, it was sure fun trying to create toxic death formulas. I suppose we could have accidentally created chlorine gas from bleach and xxx, but must not have added the right amounts…or, it was neutralized by the Gleem.
-Squeezing lighter fluid in a long trail and throwing wooden strike-on matches to try to create a bonfire with soaked Hotwheels and Matchbox cars. Oh, did I mention we were in the garage attached to the house?
-Pumping up the bb gun so hard that you can make a dent in the chest of a hard plastic “12 GI Joe to simulate “real” combat. Richocets that bounced back and hit you dead in the forehead at point blank range? Firecrackers from Chinatown as hand grenades being thrown from a kung fu grip hand.
-Freezing plastic army men so they are brittle and lose arms and legs from an ordinary Daisy bb gun.
-Being 12, and taking a bus into San Francisco with your friend to go to a twi-night double-header. Getting home after midnight and a bus transfer somewhere downtown because the second game went into extra innings.
-Getting rear ended while getting a birds eye view from the back of a rear-facing seat in a humungous green station wagon.
Fun topic.
21st November 2014 at 7:55 pm
shank wyler says:
To fagacius James: I believe homoabhoric is more appropriate than homophobic,.as no one is afraid of them.
23rd November 2014 at 9:22 am