The blog http://www.thosedays.net/ by Aishah is a collection of childhood memories, “Nostalgic Candy,” and a childhood diary. The author talks about growing up in Minneapolis, MN. She writes stories of her childhood and treats she enjoyed growing up. Her latest entry is a tribute to Mr. Rodgers.
I picked this blog because it have interesting stories that I find myself relating to and all the entries about candy and sweets. She has a random assortment of blog entries like the “you know you grew up in the 80’s if…
Monday, April 30, 2007
Friday, April 20, 2007
Twistage- its not a word but it should be!
My best friend, Tom, and I loved extreme sports. When we went skiing we would get as high up the mountain as we could and race back down hitting as many jumps as possible and trying to knock each other down. We did not play hockey much because we would always break our sticks, usually on each other. Most people view skiing or hockey and extreme, but we felt those types of sports as too passive. To satisfy our craving for extreme we would take a mundane sport and twist it until it became an extreme full contact sport.
Cycling was the first sport that we twisted, because we were always riding our bikes. At first we were content with riding through treacherous animal trails in the forest, jumping across gullies and jumping into any body of water we could find. We soon grew disinterested with these measures, so we added a little more physical contact. While riding we would try to try to knock the other person off their bike by hitting each other with plastic bats. We had a lot of with our bike gauntlet, but were unable to continue due to complications with my bike. (I detailed this incident in an earlier post)
Rollerblading was our second choice for our unwholesome desire for extreme sports. Our first step was to remove those bothersome and worthless brakes…who needs brakes anyways. We would use a rope and street surf using a bicycle or a car to put the rope. This activity did not last long because we always got in trouble with parents and the occasional cop. We invented a game called “Who stops first,” which consisted of racing down steep hills and whoever ran into something or ate pavement first lost and remember we removed the brakes. Once while racing, Tom did not time his jump right and collided with the curb. I was a little ways behind him and at 35 mph I was going too fast to miss him, so I had to run into a fence to keep from running over my best friend.
We have enhanced many sports, some were great and others were disastrous. Many of my posts will be different sports that we improved. For example: BB gun tag. I recently heard of a more extreme version called taser tag. I would never think of doing that now, but when I was younger we would rushed out to buy some.
Stay turned until next time when I talk about when we decided to start smoking, and do not worry it is funnier then it sounds.
Cycling was the first sport that we twisted, because we were always riding our bikes. At first we were content with riding through treacherous animal trails in the forest, jumping across gullies and jumping into any body of water we could find. We soon grew disinterested with these measures, so we added a little more physical contact. While riding we would try to try to knock the other person off their bike by hitting each other with plastic bats. We had a lot of with our bike gauntlet, but were unable to continue due to complications with my bike. (I detailed this incident in an earlier post)
Rollerblading was our second choice for our unwholesome desire for extreme sports. Our first step was to remove those bothersome and worthless brakes…who needs brakes anyways. We would use a rope and street surf using a bicycle or a car to put the rope. This activity did not last long because we always got in trouble with parents and the occasional cop. We invented a game called “Who stops first,” which consisted of racing down steep hills and whoever ran into something or ate pavement first lost and remember we removed the brakes. Once while racing, Tom did not time his jump right and collided with the curb. I was a little ways behind him and at 35 mph I was going too fast to miss him, so I had to run into a fence to keep from running over my best friend.
We have enhanced many sports, some were great and others were disastrous. Many of my posts will be different sports that we improved. For example: BB gun tag. I recently heard of a more extreme version called taser tag. I would never think of doing that now, but when I was younger we would rushed out to buy some.
Stay turned until next time when I talk about when we decided to start smoking, and do not worry it is funnier then it sounds.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Recap
I had an interesting childhood being the youngest of three boys. There is a big age difference between my brothers and myself, 9 and 6 years. I was their guinea pig, when they wanted to try something new, and I assisted them with their pranks. Most of the time I was the subject of those pranks. For example, the time my brother broke a broom over my head.
My posts will be memories of my many adventures. Some tales you will shake your head at and wonder how I survived, as do I. Most of the entries will be funny, as you read about something stupid or dangerous that I did alone or with the help of my trusted partners in crime.
One such adventure happened when my family spent summer vacation in East Texas with my grandparents. My grandparents have a five acre homestead and have a small pond stalked with catfish.
When my family was fishing at the pond one evening, my brother got tired of not catching anything and started to reel in his fishing line. Unfortunately, the fish hook snagged on a cottonmouth’s tail, a cottonmouth is a poisonous snake. Family members scattered like a flock of birds when that snake was pulled up on the shore, hissing and biting. My grandfather went running to the house to get the shotgun, while my brother tried desperately to keep the snake as far away from him and anyone else as possible. The rest of my family grabbed anything they could find to use as a weapon for example: sticks, shovels, rocks, and machetes. The snake then went through a gauntlet as it tried to dodge all the instruments flung at it. Finally one of my cousins managed to hit the snake with a shovel hard enough to sever the head. My brother’s only concern is the fact that the killing blow also severed the end of his fishing pole. Ten years later my brother will randomly complain about his “favorite fishing pole getting ruined.”
As a final note I felt a disclaimer was needed for the sake of safety and to guard against legal action.
Please do not try any of the events depicted in this blog at home or anywhere else. We are trained professionals and have had years of experience to perfect our techniques. Failure to comply may result in humiliation, injury and/or death.
My posts will be memories of my many adventures. Some tales you will shake your head at and wonder how I survived, as do I. Most of the entries will be funny, as you read about something stupid or dangerous that I did alone or with the help of my trusted partners in crime.
One such adventure happened when my family spent summer vacation in East Texas with my grandparents. My grandparents have a five acre homestead and have a small pond stalked with catfish.
When my family was fishing at the pond one evening, my brother got tired of not catching anything and started to reel in his fishing line. Unfortunately, the fish hook snagged on a cottonmouth’s tail, a cottonmouth is a poisonous snake. Family members scattered like a flock of birds when that snake was pulled up on the shore, hissing and biting. My grandfather went running to the house to get the shotgun, while my brother tried desperately to keep the snake as far away from him and anyone else as possible. The rest of my family grabbed anything they could find to use as a weapon for example: sticks, shovels, rocks, and machetes. The snake then went through a gauntlet as it tried to dodge all the instruments flung at it. Finally one of my cousins managed to hit the snake with a shovel hard enough to sever the head. My brother’s only concern is the fact that the killing blow also severed the end of his fishing pole. Ten years later my brother will randomly complain about his “favorite fishing pole getting ruined.”
As a final note I felt a disclaimer was needed for the sake of safety and to guard against legal action.
Please do not try any of the events depicted in this blog at home or anywhere else. We are trained professionals and have had years of experience to perfect our techniques. Failure to comply may result in humiliation, injury and/or death.
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