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Sunday, June 26, 2011

I have no idea how we survived

1n 1971 when I was 10, I had a metallic-purple 5-speed stingray bike that I used to ride to the Shiloh Pharmacy and the old Rutter's store to get my candy and comic books... but I never had an awesome WHEELIE BAR:



Look Ma, no helmet!

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4 Comments:

At 6/27/2011 10:12 AM, Blogger Edward said...

Ah, this takes me back to the halcyon days when pop tops came completely off of soda cans and back seat car windows rolled ALL the way down. When radioactive substances irradiated our watch faces so we could tell time in the dark and Red Dye #6 gave that extra special "bite" to the flavor of red M & M's. It was a special time, my friends. Sure, it was dangerous - we would skin our elbows, die of wrist cancer and our livers were an unnatural shade of bright crimson, but it was our time and we loved it by God!!!! None of the nansy-panshit bull poop for us. They offered us bike helmets and we laughed! They offered us elbow guards and instead of sheepishly strapping them on, we'd spit on the ground, give them that steely look in the eye, and say "Nay! Give me a Wheelie Bar instead!!!"

You weren't a real Kid unless you had gotten at least 5 stitches and a tetnis shot by age 12. Butterfly bandages didn't count.

ARRGGHAFLAPTWOPP!!! - Excuse me, I just sneezed my dentures out there . . .

 
At 6/27/2011 1:47 PM, Blogger Bill at Comix Connection said...

A HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

It's funny because it's true!

I remember when we had this old red coaster bike that we used to unscrew the nuts on the front wheel, then go down the Rogers' hill and pop a wheelie so the front wheel would fall off and then crash as spectacularly as we could, like Evil Knievel. Good times.

 
At 6/27/2011 1:49 PM, Blogger Bill at Comix Connection said...

Oh and once I licked a Shell No-Pest Strip just to see what it tasted like. And today I'm completely norbal.

 
At 6/27/2011 2:19 PM, Blogger Edward said...

Billy Watson, oldest boy in our neighborhood, started a club where the initiation was that you had to hold the "live end" of the spark plug wire from an old lawn mower while he pulled the rip cord. Pansies needed not apply.

Good times . . .

What is it exactly about pain and injury being so much a part of our childhood? And the worse part is that we actual seem to miss it . . .

 

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