Well, here it is, boring as it may be, but at least you will never question me again about what a trouble-making brat I was.
If I do this, will it absolve me of all my childhood sins?
1. My first taste of hard liquor:
I was 4 years old. Toby was the only old person I knew, other than my parents. Never acting like and never visiting with the other old people around the neighborhood, he frequently drank "sugar water" that he kept in an oven that was outside in the back yard, an oven that never seemed to work.
One day, Toby offered me some of his sugar water and I gleefully accepted and drank in several quick gulps; AGHHH! I continuously coughed and gasped for air like a chorus-line repeated again and again; “cough and gasp! Cough and gasp!
It smelled terrible, burned the hell out of my throat, made me gag and took my breath away. This was like no sugar water I’d ever tasted before, in fact, it was very nasty shit; Toby must have gotten bad sugar at the grocery store.
After unwittingly helping Toby catch a chicken which he promptly beheaded, I ran home, dressed in the usual shorts - no shirt, no shoes. I ran square into a patch of sticker grass and ended up with stickers literally covering my entire body.
Me at 4 with Toby's house accross the street.
Fucking sticker grass
2. Sword Fights:
I lost the tops of two fingers to a "sword fight," also at 4 years old, with my older brother (9 years older) using butcher knives found in the kitchen. I later lost even more of the same fingers and the top of my thumb in a table saw.
3. Tire swings:
Oh the fun they could provide for hours upon end. And this was not one of your wimpy, stiff, boring, tire swings with three ropes tied to the tire in three different places to keep it level and from going out of control. This was a true one-roper. The holy grail of tire swings.
I wound the rope tight, drawing the swing so high I could barely climb onto the top of the swing in order to straddle the rope. Higher and higher, spinning faster and faster until the world was spinning so fast, the only thing registering in my vision was a swirling blur of green, white and black, the colors of the grass, houses, and the asphalt of the road. I couldn’t even see my buddies for they were just too insignificant relative to the high-speed background.
Off to the hospital one more time for stitches in the head. I hadn't considered how hard tree trunks are.
4. The experiment:
The following experiment, my favorite, one that earned me the envy of the entire neighborhood of “wee scientists.”“We have to soak the grinding wheel in gasoline and the stuff my dad uses to start the barbeque, and this other stuff too. Don’t know what it is, but it works great.” After hours upon hours of anticipation, the time had arrived.
Ever so cautiously flipping the switch that set the wheel into motion, blow torch already burning, I ignited the fumes and liquid now spewing feet from the grinding wheel.
The experiment was a scientific wonderment. In near total darkness with the garage doors shut to prevent stray light beams from entering the laboratory and ruining the experiment, those flames leaped as high as the laboratory ceiling, almost two stories high, and made the old wooden garage appear as though it was engulfed by a rainbow. A sight that only the neighborhood scientists could possibly have appreciated and a fireworks show that truly shames Disneyland.
5. My first kiss took place when I was 6.
Paula Hampton, gorgeous Paula Hampton and I, both 6 years old, explored the yard around her house for hours in the soft warmth of an Oklahoma spring day. After we tired of exploring, we sat on the ground beside the house talking about nothing in particular that I can recall, just kid's small talk.
Paula, staring at me, blurted out; “you want to kiss?" As I stared at her red hair, freckles and blue eyes, I lurched forward and kissed her.
Oh yeah! Right on the kisser! No cheeky stuff for me, I went right for the big time instead. And oh how sweet it was.
Shocked at what happened, we both looked embarrassingly at each other for a moment when suddenly, Paula, apparently feeling the need to return the favor, leaned forward and pecked me right back on the kisser.
While I and my "new girl" were sitting on the ground trying to determine what was happening, and more importantly, what to do next, we heard a window open just above us. Dammit! We failed to notice the window during our “exploratory activities.” Her mom stuck her head out of the window.
“Ahem!” “You two shouldn’t be playing that way; now should you?”
I thought, "WHY NOT???"
Oddly enough, her dad worked for a railroad company (the irony of which is below) and they moved away soon after. I'm still depressed :-)
6. Oklahoma = chigger attacks my entire youth.
The microscopic larvae of an arachnid that looks alarmingly like a tick, just much, much smaller, so small in fact, you never even know the attack has taken place until your body is damned near incapacitated by the little demons.
Chiggers love warm moist places, so although their attack certainly isn’t limited to but they are normally concentrated where socks and belts are worn, arm pits and the most excruciating point of attack; the groin, and not just a small area of the groin, but every last millimeter of it. Pecker, balls and all!
There’s absolutely nothing like the burning itch of chigger bites, you never know what to do; scratch it or chop it off. Hell! I'd rather deal with the rattlesnakes here in the desert than those damned things.
7. Hopping trains: (the irony of Paula)
I loved trains and still do. It was nothing for me and a friend to hop onto a slowly moving train and ride it to the next town, hopping another to come back. The ride, during the hot, humid Oklahoma summer, with the rythmic clacking of the wheels, the gentle swaying of the rail cars and the wind in my face would often cause moments of pure euphoria as we sat atop a rail car. That is, until we would get caught by some train man who'd begin yelling and waving his fist at us.
I lived on and around the tracks, riding and exploring for years, often playing (in the nude) "chicken" against them with friends, jumping from the bridge 30 or so feet above into the very muddy North Canadian River not far from my home.
8. Sacriligious sacrament:
Mormons use white paper cups and water during their "communion" service in lieu of glass cups filled with wine/grape juice. 14 year old boys prepare the sacrament. Now, what genius thought that up? You cannot see salt covered with water in the bottom of a white paper cup. 4 people were very unlucky that day and my side still hurts from laughing the rest of the day.
9. Cars with bullet holes:
In 1960, cars were transported by train on open auto transports through Oklahoma where a certain 8 year old boy owned (and still does) a Remington .22 caliber, very acurate, bolt-action carbine. Those trains always passed by that boy's favorite woods and hideout, well within range. He was good with that rifle (and still is).
Car dealers all accross the south were often seen sobbing at the sight of their new inventory.
I can't help but claim that I had a hand in improving transportation technology, for cars are now hidden behind steel-enclosed rail cars.
10. I'm very soft-hearted and felt bad for the girl.
At 12 years old, my once best buddy in 1964 had a girl who was mentally challenged cornered against a house and waved me to where they were across the street. She was visibly frightened. He asked if I wanted to get her to take her clothes off so we could have sex with her.
I looked at him as though he was the one who was mentally challenged and told him he was a fucking creep, grabbed the girl’s arm and lead her back across the street and into the building where her mom was. No words were spoken; I just left her there in safety. My once long-time buddy and I were no longer. He suddenly considered himself my nemesis for the next 7 years until I left Oklahoma.
11. My first nude woman:
Denise, the goddess of the bathroom. A foster “kid” at 17 moved into our house. She was HOT, oh so HOT! AND, she kept coming into my bedroom at night while I pretended to be asleep. I became very good at squinting my eyes to watch her parade around my room, often just inches from my face, in her bra and underpants. I wish I had been more mature at 13, but at that age, I had no idea what I was wishing for. She loved for me to zip her dress every morning, somehow suddenly not able to do so after 17 years of wearing said dresses. Oh God, what a gorgeous butt.
My bicycle found a permanent home parked below the window of the only bathroom in our poor family’s home. Denise loved to bathe, brush her teeth and comb her hair facing the window NUDE and the 13 year old boy loved to climb atop his bicycle to enjoy the show, a show she was ever willing to provide through open curtains.
12. I spent two years as a Mormon Missionary:
Well, more like I spent two years enjoying flirting with all the California girls and exploring every beach in Southern California. I actually met my wife wile a missionary, the first time in Buena Park, then in Brea. I had been transferred to several other places shortly after meeting her in BP, then was transferred to Brea. During all those tranfers, her family had moved to Brea. We became engaged two months later, much to the horror of all the Mormons in the area AND to the church officials. She and I have now been married for 37 incredible years.
Tough shit, all you Mormon officials. Your warnings that it wouldn't work out seem to have been utterly misplaced.
Your friend and mine
Missionary Bob
My Lovely Bride of 37 years shortly after we were married. And yes, shutting my mouth for me :-)
Old Fart Bobby (second from right, back row)
And the lucky number 13 -
When I was 16, I visited my sister and brother-in-law fairly frequently in the "Big City, Oklahoma City, becoming good friends with the BinLaw, Yes another "Bob.”
Oklahoma had more Bobs, or as they are more likely to say “Bobby’s” than they had raccoons and there are a shit load of raccoons there.
On this particular day, we were going to grill steaks and were drinking beers, along with gin and orange juice. Don't know what that drink is officially called in bar lingo, but it was good and I like the flavor of gin.
Anyway, we got pretty sloshed and somehow came up with the idea to go on a shoplifting spree to see who could get the best (not necessarily the most, but the best) prize for the night.
I can’t say I had brass balls, but I had few concerns about anything and was always up for a dare, the more elaborate the better, still am.
I had little use for the things I lifted; it was the dare and the feeling that I was smarter and quicker than most store employees. I never lost or got caught and there were many show times in which I availed myself to the dumb security guards.
We headed out, Bob to the hardware store and me, the other Bob to the grocery store. I'd done this several times and grocery stores were particularly easy targets. Who steels food, right?
I walked up and down a few aisles looking as though I was shopping and found my target, a huge pack of ribeye steaks in the meat section. We were going to grill that night after all.
The way to play this game is to use speed, grab it, hide it and get the hell out. No time for second "look-arounds" to make sure the coast is clear. That makes you look suspicious (as well it should).
I grabbed the pack of steaks, stuffed them down the front of my Levis, buttoned my army winter BDU jacket around my waste on the way out to help hide the bulge.
I met Bob at their house. PFFFFT He had a little box of screwdrivers stuck in his back pocket. Fucking beginner :-). Proudly, I pulled out the packet of steaks. There were four steaks in the packet and they were damned thick ones too.
I won, so I got the second steak. Woohooo!
We ate, drank and had a blast. I awoke around 0730 the next morning and drove home. I went to my bedroom, got a change of clothes and took a bath, dropping the dirty clothes in the dirty clothes basket my mom kept outside the bathroom door. I then went to my room to sleep off the rest of the night's festivities.
Sometime, after what seemed like a two minute nap, I heard my mom screaming "Bobby" in a major panic. I rushed to where she was. She was indeed frantic.
"Are you OK Bobby" "uhhm yes" I stood and looked. I'd learned after years and years of getting my ass into trouble to ALWAYS wait to see what mom (or even worse, dad) was about to hang you for.
"Are you sure you're OK, Bobby?
"Ya Mom, why?"
"I'm worried about this" and with that, she held up the tighty whities I'd worn the previous night, the front of which were covered in blood. Now you can appreciate a mom's concern over such a discovery, but I immediately knew that the steaks I'd lifted the night before had apparently leaked while stuffed in my pants.
She stood there with horror on her face and it took me a moment to tell her that Bob and I had bought steaks the night before and I carried them on my lap on the way home. The package must've leaked on my lap.
She grabbed my Levis from the dirty clothes and examined the front of them very closely.
"I don't understand; why did they leak through your jeans and not leave any blood on your jeans?" " Are you sure you're OK and aren't hiding something from me?"
"Ya, mom, I’m fine. My fly must've been open again" (a common occurrence for me).
She had immediate relief in her eyes, but still a look of suspicion, but she let it go, not knowing what to think. Just one more damned lucky escape J
TIP:
Enter the amount, and click "Tip" to submit!
Eljekar
Poor Woman
sagemerlin
James M. Emmerling
Inverted Interrobang
Sarah Fister Gale
Salon.com
Comments
So THAT explains my orientation! I NEVER went in the center!
kate - Yes, they do make one shudder. Hell, I'd rather deal with the rattlesnakes here in the desert than those damnable chiggers.
Rated
rated with amazement.
RP - thanks. I'm glad I grew up in a rural area. Lots of things to seek adventures with
Cathy - an oh so true and accurate statement
Maria - thank you.
oooohlaaalaaaa!! Actually, that was kind of like my first kiss, except well,my first kiss was kind of eggy as she was taking some kind of medicines that made her lips, well, eggy!! EEK!! :D
Your childhood was very interesting, and I'm thrilled you found your soulmate despite the Mormon church. Sometimes things are meant to be.
R for fun and shock value.
BTW, you were in the Air Force?
It was usually played out with sticks, until the one day we found the butcher knives. That's all it took - one day.
Black Jack - I'm not sure "understand" has ever been a suitable word to use in the same sentence with my name :-)
Tink - eggy lips?? I've not experienced that phenomenon before, thankfully. I think only Tink could come up with that description :-)
Buffy - chiggers are simply unforgettable. And so is that damned bur grass. There's something on the thorns that burns the shit out of your skin, it's not just a simple stick like most other thorns.
Trudge - yes, I think I was very lucky to have the room to roam as a kid. There was always lots to do and a shit load of ways to cause trouble. I think the locals, especially in the church, were glad to see me leave.
No, no Air Force for me, although it would have been damned fun. I was a 1st LT and the PAO in the Nellis Cadet Squadron, Civil Air Patrol (Air Force Auxiliary). My daughter (also in the picture - in front of me, her head right at my left shoulder) was a cadet in the squadron. It was a blast, we met at Nellis AF Base every week and the cadets were required to attend weekly training every weekend.
The best part of it, I love airplanes and we would meet during Red Flag exercises when damned near every kind of aircraft known to modern military (including the then brand new F-22 Raptor) would participate in joint training. I remember when the F111s would take off during our meetings; those massive engines would literally shake the building we met in three blocks from the runway, we’d have to stop all speech until they all had taken off, we couldn’t even hear each other. Some damned cool times.
We were called to search an area just outside of a small town in Nevada called Panaca when the shuttle Columbia broke apart. NASA had tracked some debris falling near the area and sent several CAP squadrons from Nevad and California to perform search and recovery.
We actually found some small parts and I remember the somber feeling everyone suddenly felt at that moment. I was also quite startled at just how delicate the items were, sort of like insulation with aluminum on one side. The guys from NASA explained to us that the entire shuttle is like that, very easily damaged. Who woulda thought!!
Abrawang - Oh hell, I know. And what I’ve written here is but a very small portion of what I did as a kid. I’ve actually written a book about it and it took a book to describe all the shit I got into. I fear that if I had grown up in some city rather than the wide open spaces of OK, I would surely have been dead long before I reached 19.
Best Wishes,
Blittie
Willie - indeed I was.
Linnn - I think, at least with me, it was the fact that someone (the Mormons and my parents) were telling me that I shouldn't do something, which, in my ears, was simply an invitation to do exactly that.
Nikki - thanks. Still like your new blinkers lady.
Heidi - I wouldn't trade my youth with ANYONE. I absolutely HATED school all the way up until I was 45 when I returned to college for my BA in business, just for fun. School interfered far too much with adventures that I could see just waiting for me right outside the school room windows.
Kim - Your mom and dad would probably kill me first. People just did not like me hanging with their daughters. I think that's why Paula's parents moved :-)