|What dumb things did you do as a kid?||OutWest|
May 29, 2002 5:11 PM
|I got slurpees for the kids and myself after baseball the other night. Without thinking I had a couple of big (?) slurps, next thing you know..."brain freeze". As I was thawing out I started thinking about the time I got my nose stuck to the tether-ball pole in the schoolyard in the middle of winter. It was result of 3 seven year old's scientific curiousity and I was the unlucky guinea pig. You wouldn't believe the fuss they made over it, we were merely wondering if a person's nose could stick to metal. We had already established that you could stick your tongue to a popsicle. So what has everybody else done? 'Fess up now.
|I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die (nm)||mickey-mac|
May 29, 2002 8:36 PM
|My brother and I used to take turns||Spinchick|
May 30, 2002 4:34 AM
|jumping out of a tree in our back yard. The strategy was, climb higher each time. The one who could jump from the highest spot without breaking a bone was the winner. I won when he broke his collarbone jumping from a limb next to our second floor bedroom window. My prize? I was grounded for 3 weeks, had my bike taken away and wasn't allowed to have any friends over for that time - all because I was the oldest and "should have known better." My brother laughed the whole way to the emergency room.|
May 30, 2002 2:43 PM
|Your story reminds me of a childhood tale:
A few of my friends in 6th grade crawled up on a neighbor's roof and dared each other to jump into the kidney-shaped pool in the backyard. It was 2 stories up, but you had to jump from the arch of the roof, at the highest point, to land in the pool. This was what we heard some older kids had done. I wouldn't do it, which was a SMART decision for a kid. Neither would a friend, who was probably the craziest kid in school. Up comes a new kid in our class. He jumped. We saw him leap and we began scrambling down off the roof to get out of the area when the ambulance came to scrape the kid off the concrete. We got down and there the kid was, soaking wet and smiling at us. Instant respect. But the kid moved shortly afterward--I think his parents were battling over custody--and we never heard from him again. I heard he moved to a town 20 miles away. His leap became the stuff of legend.
I saw his name years later in a regional newspaper. It was during Desert Storm, and they listed local soldiers by branch of service and rank. He was a Marine, and the description sounded like he was close to combat areas. I knew Iraq didn't stand a chance. And boy am I glad I didn't jump.
|i don't think i ever stopped doing dumb things (nm)||ColnagoFE|
May 30, 2002 9:20 AM
|ummm... which childhood are you referring to?||lonefrontranger|
May 30, 2002 11:47 AM
|Let's see, I grew up in rural Ohio, near a little hick town on a farm with large animals, heavy equipment and dangerous sharp things all around, you be the judge. Many of the kids I went to school with had missing fingers. I was also a latchkey kid (single mom) so I stayed at the neighbor's (they had 5 sons) after school each night. We used to ride calves and get bucked into barbwire fences (and chased by the cows, too), swim in the nasty green pond at the bottom of the pasture and ride minibikes (motorized) at full throttle without helmets on gravel roads. One of the all-time favorite "gee I'm bored" kinda stunts was to take a big can of WD-40 and a lighter (can you say flamethrower?) and do incendiary tricks with hornets' nests. I could write an entire book about pyromaniacal and environmental disasters perpetrated by six bored preadolescents with basically unlimited access to volatile chemicals. Explosions are really cool when you're thirteen. The oldest boy once threw a *big* can of tire black into the trash pit when we were burning, then we all ran like hell and jumped behind this makeshift bunker we'd fabricated out of roofing tin, old pallets and 3/4" plywood. Shrapnel was found embedded in trees thirty yards from the pit, and the resulting black mushroom cloud could be seen for miles. The trash pit resembled a SCUD crater afterwards, except one with mattress springs and bits of old harrow at the bottom.
Q: What's the last thing the redneck ever said?
A: Hey Bubba, watch this!
The worst road rash I ever had on my face was when I was 16 and sketched out of a drop-in off a friend's roof on my skateboard. We had been doing this off progressively higher eaves, and I'd done this particular eave once before, but there's only so much a wooden deck can withstand. The second time I dropped in, the deck broke on impact which *badly* sprained my ankle and hurled me out into the street. The oncoming car was my best friend's mom, so as you can imagine we got yelled at some.
The worst road rash I ever had, period: When I overlapped wheels and my teammate took me out at 30mph in my second road race. I skinned my entire right side, and I do mean entire. That was when I was 24.
The scariest crash I ever had was the one where I tried a huge drop-in for the first time on my MTB. This was/is a fairly notorious one called the "Kamikaze" in Ceasar's Creek State Park (Ohio). It's the height of a 4 story building, basically straight down, crappy and rooty and with not much runout at the end. I was doing fine until I hooked a root on the way down at something like terminal velocity, and parted company with the bike. My bike shot off into the woods and hit a tree, and I hurtled into a brush pile at warp factor 10. The 2 guys who were riding with me were amazed by the fact that both my bike and I were essentially unscathed from that one, except for some stickers in choice spots and a bad attitude on my part. That was two weeks after my 30th birthday.
|Wher should I begin?||Len J|
May 30, 2002 1:19 PM
|In no particular order:
1.) Me and a group of friends (At 12) decided it would be kind of cool to run naked through a funeral at a local cemetary. I think about it now & I cringe, those poor people.
2.) Same cemetary, 10 yrs old, heard all the stories about crazy George the caretaker & his shotgun loaded with rock salt shot, had to prove how brave I was, found out my out of the saddle sprint on my Sears special wasn't that fast when he nailed me in the a** with rock salt. The longest dinner I ever had was sitting there with my a** burning, too afraid to tell my parents.
3.) We lived on the end of a row of houses in Phila. All the phone lines for the 25 houses on our side of the street ran down the roof & down the side wall next to my bedroom window. I used these lines to climb down when I wanted to sneak out. Not too bad when I was 10, but as I grew & got heavier I still tempted fate. When I was about 12, I'm halfway down 2 1/2 stories when the wires break & take out service to the entire side of the street. Worse thing was, I had no way to get back into the house.
4.) In the city, the only way to cool off in the summer was to open a fire hydrant and get under the water. Now to do this you need a hydrant wrench. The only people that have these are fireman. So what you have to do is pull a fire alarm & when they come, someone has to distract them while someone else steals the wrench, it's kind of a right of passage. Anyway, I'm about 9 yrs old & the bigger kids on the sreet convince me to steal the wrench. When the truck gets to the street, I sneak into the back cab and find the wrench, unfortunatly, it took too long and the fireman start to come back to the truck. I dive under a pile of Jackets (I think I weighed about 60 lbs at the time) & prayed that I wouldn't get caught. The truck takes off, with me in it, and gets most of the way back to the firehouse before they get another call. Here we go, siren blaring, me trying not to make a sound as we go flying around corners. We get to the fire, and it gets quiet in the cab. I sneak a peek & no one is there. I get out of the cab with the wrench and try to walk away slowly in the confusion. I get about a block away & realize I have no clue where I am. I hide the wrench, and wander for like an hour until I find something I recognize & make my way home. Of course the next day was cool, because me & the big kids had to go on a quest to find the lost wrench. (which we did).
|One more.||Len J|
May 30, 2002 1:28 PM
|I'm 17 yrs old & out partying with my friends. I'm feeling no pain when my friends drop me off about 12:15am. My father (who was a physical disiplinarian) would make us sit and talk to him before we could go to bed, it was kind of a test. Knowing this I sit outside the house for a few minutes getting ready. When I'm ready, I walk in, sit down & (in my oponion at the time) proceed to convince him that I'm OK. After a few minutes, I say goodnight & go to bed. Next morning rolls around & I come to with a terrible hangover. It takes me a few minutes to open my eyes, and when I do, I realize that I don't know where I am. Closing my eyes to gain some clarity, I slowly open them (without moving)and realize that I am sleeping on the dining-room table. We lived in a house with three rooms downstairs, Living-room, dining-room, kitchen. All three rooms were in line from front to back. My Fathers chair was in the LR facing the DR. So, as I'm laying there trying to recover I realize that not only was I sleeping on the DR table, but I had crawled up her in-front of my Father. I wished I had a place to hide.
|re: Got sucked....||jrm|
May 30, 2002 1:19 PM
|up the back and over the falls of a 10' foot closeout (wave) body surfing. I tried to exit to high in the back of the wave. Whacked the bottom twice and the pressure sucked both fins off my feet. i washed up on the beach with my trunks down around my hips, unable to breath cuz i had the crap knocked outta me so hard.|
|Thats was great, never slept on the dining room table myself nm||OutWest|
May 30, 2002 10:46 PM