Post a childhood memory
 

Okay, things have gone very bad in my life this week [img]/images/graemlins/frown.gif[/img]. Inspired by Myrtle's awesome post, thought it might cheer me up if people shared a memory from their childhood. Don't worry about making it long. Little memories are cool too.

Just tell me something about your childhood that makes you smile. It will perk me up!


*************************************************


So I’ll start.


A year ago my oldest sister told me she had almost no good memories of our childhood. I was like wow, you've got to be kidding! We had a pretty nice childhood. She looked at me kind of funny and said "We did ?" Disgusted, I tried to submit to her some good memories of our childhood to prove her wrong. I was like ok here you go, how about that one time when…no wait, that one sort of sucked. Hm, well ok there was that other time…no wait, that one was followed by mom screaming at us and then everyone crying. Gah, how did this happen? It would appear a lot of my good memories have been overrun with sad ones [img]/images/graemlins/confused.gif[/img] Man, my childhood kinda sucked!



Anyway, a year has passed now, and here I still sit trying to remember what it was to be a kid and the things we did back then for fun. Here's what I remember...


Ice Skates

I remember in the winter going ice skating all the time with my sisters and friends. That was so cool. You can't even imagine how fun it was, ice skating in the evening with so many good songs playing over the speakers (usually classic rock). It was outdoors and the cold wind would whip at our faces and ears until we thought our skin would crack. We always had funny hats. My mom would actually knit them for us. I don’t know why. It was her thing I guess. Occasionally I would get new skates for Christmas and that was a pretty big deal.

I remember playing tag on the ice rink, and watching the cute boys, and learning to skate backwards. I remember making my sisters laugh as I showed off for them, attempting to run on the ice in my skates (I luv doing that) and trying to imitate the boys jumping in the air with both feet. I was not too shy back then. For some reason the ice really brings out your personality. I remember going indoors to warm up when I couldn't take the cold anymore and getting candy from the candy machines. Chilled reeses cups rule! I can still smell the old room with the benches and shoe shelves and hear the kids talking and yelling at each other. Mostly I remember laughing a lot. (Now that I think of it, I really enjoy walking around on skates indoors. Now there’s a great feeling, being so tall.)

When we were older we would search the rink for boys to flirt with and we would try to act confident and cool. That was always a challenge. It was a big deal if eye contact was made. Even when I was little I was boy crazy. I was never a great skater and I didn’t take it seriously the way my sisters did. They would practice their edges and I would practice flying into the boards, perfecting my dramatic stops. I was not too skilled.


Anyway, that is my best recollection from childhood at the moment. I wish I had kept up with my skating like my one sister. To this day she still skates and has really advanced. If I had continued maybe I wouldn’t have such puny weak legs.


Ok, so now will you tell me some memory of your childhood to cheer me up?

Re: Post a childhood memory
 

When I was little and lived in Haverhill my step sister Amanda and I used to ride around on my red and yellow BMX bike. Just up and down the street and sing songs. She would ride the bike, while I sat on the handle bars.

We'd also sit in these pine trees in the back yard for hours on end. I'm not even quite sure what we did up there. But it was fun.

I used to build forts w/ my friend Derek in Derry, NH. We had a sand pit in the back of the mobile home community we lived in. We'd ride our bikes back there or just go exploring. We used to ride dirt bikes back there too. One time it was cold and we were walking through some sewer pipes and I twisted my ankle and got my boot stuck in half frozen puddle and he carried me home. Boys back then didnt like me in 'that' way as I was really awkward and hadnt quite grasped the concept of personal hygiene. So this was a big thing for me. I always had a crush on him.

Re: Post a childhood memory
 

Growing up, every spring, my parents would pile us all into "the van" and we would drive from Iowa to Colorado to ski.
The trips were awesome and we still laugh at the stories. Certain songs will remind me of these trips...like when my mom would always make us listen to John Denver as we would drive through the Eisenhower Memorial Tunnel(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eisenhower_Tunnel) and we would all roll our eyes...:p

One year on the way home my dad decides to take a detour and heads north to Minnesota. He called ahead to a dog breeder that he had been talking with and decided to surprise us all with a puppy.(Well, I think it was really for him...he is such a big dog guy) So, my sisters and brother and I have no idea where he is heading because we are not paying attention and late in the aftrenoon we drive up to a farm and there are many Old Engish Sheepdogs running about.
We spent a few hours there getting to know the dogs and picked out a big male who we named Winston.

I will never forget that....my dad was always doing stuff like that!

Re: Post a childhood memory
 

I grew up in a small town in central California. The summers where I grew up were both hot and magical. Neither me, nor any of my friends had swimming pools so we would lie to our parents and go swimming in an irrigation ditch that ran through town. I was the only decent swimmer of the group and on numerous occasions I had to rescue friends who got carried away in the current. No tragic mishaps, just lots of good memories. I also remember learning to ride a dirt bike way too young, maybe seven or eight years old. My step dad gave me his old Hodaka 90 and I would ride it up and down the alley for days on end. When I got older I would go ride through the vineyeards and eventually through town. Back then the police would just stop me and tell me to go home, no ticket, no call to my parents. I guess I'm getting old and sentimental but it seems like the you could get away with more back then. It was sort of a "boys will be boys" type of thing. Nowadays, everything is a major crime. All the stuff we did then would have us in jail now.

Re: Post a childhood memory
 

As I've just been out to a Guy Fawkes night, I remember one particular bonfire night. I must have been 7 or 8, maybe younger.


I don't know whose house it was, but we were in a back garden. It was dark, the stars were out, and there were lots of kids and adults around, but I don't remember a specific adult, not even my mother (who would have taken me, I'm sure).


I remember it being so dark, the fireworks they were letting off seemed so much brighter than any other fireworks I'd ever seen. They also had a small bonfire which was warm when you got near. I remember the kids being given sparklers - long metal sticks with 3/4 coats in a sort of gunpowder/sulphur, which you'd light and it would sparrkle and fizz. I remember playing with one and dropping it. An adult said to us kids they should go in a bucket of water which was nearby, and I picked up mine, but by the wrong end and it was still red-hot and I burnt my fingers and cried some. Some adult ran my fingers under a cold tap, but I still got big blisters which were very sore.

I remember going outside and watching more fireworks, and forgetting my hurt fingers (but sucking on them), and then a catherine wheel starting to burn and spin but coming off it's ping and spiralling around the garden and landing in a group of adults, whizzing around their legs while they shouted and jumped out of the way. I remember thinking it was really fun, and laughing my head off.

Then I remember being given a baked potato picked out of the bonfire with the tin foil peeled back, and cut open and smothered in butter, and just eating it without a knife or fork, just with my fingers, and it was the best potato I'd ever tasted (even to this day).

Re: Post a childhood memory
 

Somewhere in the northern NJ mountains, circa 1971...

This was my normal Saturday...

I grew up in an area that was pretty rural...all the houses in my little community had at least an acre of land, and there were lots of forests, streams and nature right outside our back door...

One memory that I love is my best friend Victor and I going "exploring." My Mom would make us "adventure packs" with peanut butter sandwiches, a banana, and some comic books. We'd also have our canteens that we'd fill with iced tea.

Victor and I would set out through my backyard, straight into the mysterious forest behind our house. We'd hike and climb trees and dig up long-lost treasure (that we had buried on an earlier trek), and try and spot foxes and bears - something that was remarkably still possible back then.

Once we got through the forest, we entered Mr. Smith's apple orchard - many, many acres of nothing but apple trees...we'd have to sneak through, pretending we were commandos like in "Rat Patrol," because we were sure Mr. Smith (whom we never met or saw) would surely come after us with guns blazing and dogs snarling if he ever caught us trespassing through his orchard, eating his apples. Let me tell you, nothing is sweeter to the taste then a not-quite-ripe, just-picked and stolen apple.

Victor and I would find a tree and sit down in its shade to eat and read comic books. Usually some gruesome horror comic that my Mom always hid from my Dad for us.

After lunch, we'd hike through the orchard and come to this 12 or 15 acre ranch...it had horses running around, dogs who'd want to play with us, and - if we were lucky - a tractor or two we could climb on and once again pretend we were on "Rat Patrol."

After that, we'd start circling back and cutting through various yards, sneaking around, fighting Nazis and discussing some horrible fate that might befall us in the future- like having to kiss a girl. Yech.

One yard would have the tire swing, another would have a cool barn we could sneak in - if we were brave enough that day - and another would have ducks and geese frolicking in a pond.

Closer to home now, we'd go deeper into the forest and find the small stream that wound its way all the way back to Victor's house. We'd follow it, splashing around, maybe putting a GI Joe we had brought onto a flat piece of wood and giving him a ride down the obviously Class IV rapids, all the while bombing him with huge bombs from above (rocks).

Finally, we'd end up at Victor's house, wet and dirty and happy. Tired, too. Victor's mom would make us get undressed so she could wash our clothes and I'd have to put on something of Victor's. Then we'd watch a little TV - probably "Lost in Space" - and finally have dinner with victor's family.

We'd then rotate where'd we'd sleep - my house or Victor's. In the summer, we'd sleep outside in sleeping bags, under Victor's fort or in the tent my father got for us kids to play in. Before going to bed, we'd chase fireflies and capture them in a jar. Later, we'd even read more comic books by the light of the firefly jars. If we were lucky, one of our Dads would pile us into the car to make the drive to Dairy Queen...

Those were my Saturdays as a kid...My parents and Victor's parents are still very close - Victor's folks still live in the same house in NJ! - but Victor died a couple of years ago, falling down some stairs and hitting his head. I was lucky enough to see him a few months before that (we had not seen each other or talked in over ten years) and we spent the time laughing and remembering our childhood. Before leaving, we hugged and he told me how lucky he felt to have had a first "best friend" like me. I hugged him back and agreed.

Re: Post a childhood memory
 

this thread:
http://www.kmwb23.com/entertainment/...ert_roeper.jpg

Re: Post a childhood memory
 

[ QUOTE ]
this thread:
http://www.kmwb23.com/entertainment/...ert_roeper.jpg

[/ QUOTE ]

Amen....told ya Katy! [img]/images/graemlins/wink.gif[/img]

Re: Post a childhood memory
 

[ QUOTE ]
When I was little and lived in Haverhill my step sister Amanda and I used to ride around on my red and yellow BMX bike. Just up and down the street and sing songs. She would ride the bike, while I sat on the handle bars.

We'd also sit in these pine trees in the back yard for hours on end. I'm not even quite sure what we did up there. But it was fun.

I used to build forts w/ my friend Derek in Derry, NH. We had a sand pit in the back of the mobile home community we lived in. We'd ride our bikes back there or just go exploring. We used to ride dirt bikes back there too. One time it was cold and we were walking through some sewer pipes and I twisted my ankle and got my boot stuck in half frozen puddle and he carried me home. Boys back then didnt like me in 'that' way as I was really awkward and hadnt quite grasped the concept of personal hygiene. So this was a big thing for me. I always had a crush on him.

[/ QUOTE ]

He wouldn't have carried you all the way back if he didn't "like" you, too. [img]/images/graemlins/wink.gif[/img]

Re: Post a childhood memory
 

[ QUOTE ]
this thread:
http://www.kmwb23.com/entertainment/...ert_roeper.jpg

[/ QUOTE ]

minjack
I need to find a similar picture of Joe Bob Briggs to reflect MY style of movie review [img]/images/graemlins/grin.gif[/img]
/minjack

Re: Post a childhood memory
 

Probably '85, central Ontario, a winter evening, I'm 8. Reminded of it now 'cause we've got the first snow of the year up here.

I was always a precocious kid, ya know. Books and numbers, was never much for toys. Did the usual things, though. biking, jumping off quarry sand dunes, playing hockey and soccer.

Anyway, it's Christmas break, I'm up home for a couple weeks with the family at the house. I miss that house. Hot tub with skylights, on an acre of flatland, a ways down to a forest.

About a foot of snow on the ground, soft thick flakes, decided to go for a walk. Decided I'd just flop on the snow, one eye was somewhat swollen, as I'd taken another puck off it earlier in the holiday break. Pretty standard stuff when you're a Canadian kid, I suppose.

I'd read 2010 the year before, and the Universe exploded for me after reading that. It got a lot bigger and a lot more awesome. Flop back on the snow, start making snow angels and sinking into the snow a bit, if you know that warm feeling you get when your winter clothing meshes with the snow and it actually warms you up...

All those stars, man. Thousands and thousands of them. Uncountable, gorgeous, mesmerizing. Thought about other civilizations out there, and realized if they looked up in their sky, they couldn't help but feel the same awe.

To this day, I have never really made an effort to learn the names of the stars. They, after all, are suns with their own names.

Re: Post a childhood memory
 

I just read this thread after a long and kinda crappy day. Man, so many things back then that I remember now. I thought I was so miserable when I was growing up. I see now, that those were some of the best times ever. But maybe they just are so now that I'm older and can see things much differently.

I remember being really little and my grandmother used to watch me. We had 2 sets of furniture in the living room. Our regular couch, a tan recliner and 2 rocking chairs. And the 'company' couch, chair (covered in clear plastic) and table at the other end of the room by the big window.

I used to sit behind the chair w/ a bunch of pots and pans and pretend I was Julia Child. Something about that I just really miss. My Nana rocking in her rocking chair, and me just sitting back there for HOURS.

I did a lot of things by myself when I was little. I've always lived in my own little world.

Re: Post a childhood memory
 

[ QUOTE ]

I used to sit behind the chair w/ a bunch of pots and pans and pretend I was Julia Child. Something about that I just really miss. My Nana rocking in her rocking chair, and me just sitting back there for HOURS.


[/ QUOTE ]

This is really cute Tenn. Made me smile. You are great at describing your memories.

I loved your earlier post too. Picturing you on the bike with your sister is so cute. And I almost wrote about how I used to sit in the trees with my sister. Like you, I can't remember what we did up there but it was lots of fun!

All of these posts have been just great [img]/images/graemlins/heart.gif[/img]

Really cheered me up and I enjoyed reading every one of them. Don't you guys think it's cool how each one is so distinctive and yet easy to relate to? Kind of cool to find out what our posters were like when they were kids.

Anyway, keep 'em coming loungers! I hope we get memories from all of you [img]/images/graemlins/smile.gif[/img]

Re: Post a childhood memory
 

When I was around 8 I saw this commercial...

[ QUOTE ]
Raisin Bran
"Sturdy Danny McGee was up his fifty-ninth tree, he said 'I work as fast as I can,' when he suddenly saw Two scoops of raisins inapackageof Kellogg's Raisin Bran!" and he comes racing down from the tree while the chorus sings "now here comes Dan..." "Well he rushed to the ground, 'cause ol' Danny had found What's important to a raisin fan, 'cause Kellogg's puts TWO SCOOPS OF RAISINS inapackageof Kellogg's Raisin Bran!"


[/ QUOTE ]

It showed a lumberjack, Danny, climbing trees. Well I figured I should try that. I grew up on a small farm so it was easy to find everything I needed. Got some nails a hammer and a old garden hose. Worked pretty good but I did not get very high as I could only go as high as I could put the nails in from the ground.

Well my mom finally saw me and she freaked out. Not sure why though I had a tree-house that was a good 30 feet high and had 4 floors in it. If she only knew how often I almost fell out of that sucker. [img]/images/graemlins/smile.gif[/img]

I also used to ride pigs. Pigs don't like that which is why it is so much fun. You just sit on the fence and when a pig goes by you jump on and try and stay on as long as possible. Problem is you always fall off sooner or later and you can imagine what you land in.

Re: Post a childhood memory
 

I grew up on the gulf coast.

There were occasionally hurricanes. I have memories of them. Mainly not the storms themselves, but more about my father. My father worked for a utility company. When storms would come, he would have duty, repairing down power lines and the like.

I remember my house and the feeling of safety that came from living in it. My father found the best built brick house he could buy. He then reinforced it with storm windows. During the storms, I would stand in front of the big sliding glass door and watch the winds tear through my back yard. I would watch the pine trees bend double, and then, when the eye passed, bend double the other way. All my siblings and my mother gathered there in the great room and watched out that reinforced glass door at the mayhem outside and were perfectly safe.

My father was wise enough that even in his absence, his family was looked after. I remember after one storm, the power was out for days. My father once cooked eggs for breakfast in the fireplace. I remember him gingerly reaching his hand wrapped in a towel over the bed of hot coals to flip the eggs in a metal skillet. I was perfectly safe and happy, despite the rest of the world.

I had a neighbor who used to say that there was always a beautiful day after a bad storm. For me, this is still true today.

Re: Post a childhood memory
 

Just because I'm remembering:

http://i48.photobucket.com/albums/f2.../jeslittle.jpg

Re: Post a childhood memory
 

[ QUOTE ]
[ QUOTE ]
this thread:
http://www.kmwb23.com/entertainment/...ert_roeper.jpg

[/ QUOTE ]

minjack
I need to find a similar picture of Joe Bob Briggs to reflect MY style of movie review [img]/images/graemlins/grin.gif[/img]
/minjack

[/ QUOTE ]

isn't it fun?

Re: Post a childhood memory
 

Okay, a couple from Hawaii.

During the summer months, our parents and their friends would take a bunch of us (about 2 or 3 car loads) and drive around the island (Oahu).

We'd start at around 7 in the morning and headed north and hit Waimea Bay first, surf was flat and no one was there. We jumped in for like an hour then headed off. That's all I remember, it's all fuzzy these days.

Considering I was only 7 or 8 at the time, I don't really remember much, but I always remembered how much I loved going around da island.

Another fav memory of Hawaii is anytime it rained. Up Nanakuli valley there was an area where the water would pool up into a big pond. Right in the middle of the pond was a 15-20 ft high cliff.

One random rainy afternoon my best friend and I went exploring when someone said that there was a bunch of people somewhere near the high school. On the way up we ran into my friend's brother who guided us the rest of the way. When we get there the whole high school including my brother was there. FRIGGIN AWESOME!!!!! I had the best time that day.

I love Hawaii.

Re: Post a childhood memory
 

[ QUOTE ]
I grew up on the gulf coast.

There were occasionally hurricanes. I have memories of them. Mainly not the storms themselves, but more about my father. My father worked for a utility company. When storms would come, he would have duty, repairing down power lines and the like.

I remember my house and the feeling of safety that came from living in it. My father found the best built brick house he could buy. He then reinforced it with storm windows. During the storms, I would stand in front of the big sliding glass door and watch the winds tear through my back yard. I would watch the pine trees bend double, and then, when the eye passed, bend double the other way. All my siblings and my mother gathered there in the great room and watched out that reinforced glass door at the mayhem outside and were perfectly safe.

My father was wise enough that even in his absence, his family was looked after. I remember after one storm, the power was out for days. My father once cooked eggs for breakfast in the fireplace. I remember him gingerly reaching his hand wrapped in a towel over the bed of hot coals to flip the eggs in a metal skillet. I was perfectly safe and happy, despite the rest of the world.

I had a neighbor who used to say that there was always a beautiful day after a bad storm. For me, this is still true today.

[/ QUOTE ]

Dude, this sparked memories.

I LOVED typhoons in Guam, and really miss them. And Guam was a small, flat little island that typhoons hit HARD, and frequently. Winds of 150 mph, etc. Some of my favorite memories are of sneaking out of the house in a typhoon and running hard into the wind, as hard as I could, and barely moving. Sometimes for every three steps, I'd move one real step worth of space ahead. Sometimes I'd just break even, going nowhere when running full out. Sometimes even lifting a foot for a split second meant I'd actually be running backwards while going forwards. It was weird, eerie, surreal fun. There was always at least some faint lick of terror creeping up around the edge of things to inspire it with some extra special flavor. The wind would hit so hard sometimes that it would stagger me back, and I'd wonder if the very next gust might be the one to pick me up. If it did, where would it carry me? Would it rush up and grab me, fling into the sky, and then fade, leaving me to plummet back to earth? Would it shake me like a dog shakes a rat, or drive me into a wall or a tree, or send me skidding over the asphalt until it peeled me like an orange? Would it pin me down while a mailbox, window shutter, or car made its slow, inevitable tumble through the air, leaving me to consider the inevitability of its arc, to crush or decapitate me? Would I go missing and never be found? Should I really be where I was?

Nature was so alive, God come down to earth, the age of miracles reborn so you could really feel it in your skin. It was spooky and glorious.

Going in wouldn't necessarily make you any safer, but a cinder-block house sure helped. I remember the whole family, and we had a big one, kneeling, lying, and squatting around the toilet bowl, the strongest place in the house, each with a hand on the bowl in case the winds came to claim us. The wind hitting the house like a grenade, the dogs peeing themselves. Dad was strong, Mom was warm and probably stronger than she wanted to be. This was how a family was supposed to die, but would we?

Those might have been the best times in my life.

The next morning, if the worst part of the typhoon had passed, we'd tentatively step outside to see how much of the world was left.

Re: Post a childhood memory
 

When I was five years old, my family moved to a little town called Dallas Georgia, on the outskirts of Marrietta. We, my father, mother, and my brother, 1 year older than me, moved into a two story house that had an expanse of forest behind it.

Soon after we moved in, my brother and I were adopted by a neighborhood dog, owned by no one. She was a german shepard, collie mix. We affectionately named her Snuffy because of her sneezing fits. My father and mother were gone for most of the day and nights due to college and work. We were latch key kids for the most part. Unfortunately my brother started his first year of school and I was left alone.

I know what you're thinking, what kind of parents leave thier 5 year old unattended for most of the day? Well, times were different then, a world full of pedophiles and kidnappers seemed unimaginable. Thankfully, I had Snuffy to protect me.

Now I know all kids tend to idolize thier first pets, but when I say Snuffy was a hero, I mean it. When I would take my coloring books in the middle of the cul-de-sac to color, if she heard a car coming, she would come and gently grab my hand in her mouth and pull me to the side of the road.

Behind our house was miles of forest, beautiful, gorgeous, forest. There was a creek, with a waterfall that was probably four or five feet tall, but in my memory it seemed like ten. There was an old civil war bridge, and we used to find old bullets out there. So my days were spent exploring with Snuffy in the woods. If I ever got lost, Snuffy knew the way home. If I encountered anyone on those old paths, Snuffy barked and snarled if she perceived any threat.

I must have walked miles in those forests with my faithful companion/bodyguard/wetnurse. It now seems a bit odd that some of my best memories were of me alone with my dog, but those were some of the best times of my life.

Re: Post a childhood memory
 

[ QUOTE ]


Another fav memory of Hawaii is anytime it rained. Up Nanakuli valley there was an area where the water would pool up into a big pond. Right in the middle of the pond was a 15-20 ft high cliff.

One random rainy afternoon my best friend and I went exploring when someone said that there was a bunch of people somewhere near the high school. On the way up we ran into my friend's brother who guided us the rest of the way. When we get there the whole high school including my brother was there. FRIGGIN AWESOME!!!!! I had the best time that day.

I love Hawaii.

[/ QUOTE ]


Glo: I love Hawaii too and some of my favorite childhood memories are of Manoa after the rain.

I remember watching my cousin David skateboard around his neighborhood after it had rained and thinking his life was so cool in Hawaii. My sister and I would run around trying to catch the toads that came out after a rain, hoping to save them from the cars. We thought it was just the greatest thing in the world. (lol - I remember thinking my cousin was pretty weird for chasing the squirrels when he visited us in the midwest.)

I also remember David's dad cooking dinner for us outside on their patio, and thinking the hibachi meat smelled amazing and wishing he would hurry up. I used to think he was really cool until I found out that he was actually a mean bastard who kept a stick above the doorway for smacking his kids. Then I didn’t really know what to think about him. I remember me and my sister being amused by my uncle’s family because their white church shoes were lined up in a row according to size, from large to small. They would wear white pants and white shoes to church.

lol, also remember my uncle would tease me because I could sit in my wicker chair for hours and watch endless TV sitcoms while eating Mr. Salty pretzels. Those were good days!

Funny the stuff we remember [img]/images/graemlins/tongue.gif[/img]


Blarg: I've never known anyone who lived in Guam. Your post brings back memories of the times my sisters and I played at the Pali on Oahu. The winds are strong there (not sure why) and I remember laughing my head off as we tried to run into the wind and thinking it was just hilarious to shout at each other. My mom has some cool pictures of us kids up there in that mountain pass with our hair and jackets flying upwards. It wasn’t dangerous like a typhoon, just super windy.


Runkmud: The image of you coloring in your cul-de-sac is really, really sweet. I had forgotten how I used to love coloring books! Getting a new one was always a big deal to me.

I have occasionally heard about dogs like yours but sadly have never met one. You were really lucky with your Snuffy and the forests behind your home. Sounds awesome.



Thanks everyone for sharing your childhood memories [img]/images/graemlins/heart.gif[/img]
These were really fun! Please feel free to post more memories in this thread because it really cheers me up and it’s a great read.

- Pryor, a memory? [img]/images/graemlins/crazy.gif[/img]

Re: Post a childhood memory
 

Just to be a child. Simply to exist without being violently ripped from the present with thoughts of bills, women, responsibility. Never having the pleasure of a walk through the forest, with my dog, tainted by the memory of a past mistake.

Knowing that Daddy knew everything. Being woken from a nap at the daycare center to find him there ready to take me to the zoo for a ride on a camel.

Riding my bike at 12 and knowing that the only thing that mattered was being able to keep up with my friends as we whizzed along down the trail.

And perhaps ones I miss the most, though I didn't know it at the time were all the times that books and movies and infitesimal disappointments would bring on tears and subsequent emotional release without ever realizing there was a world of people out there whose opinions were supposed to matter to me.

I was going to end it there, but find my own words too bittersweet, so I'll end on a lighter note.

When I was three or four, I had spinal meningitis.

I remember some of the trauma that went along with that experience, but I never knew how sick I was, so there was never any fear of death or disability. And to this day one of my fondest memories of childhood were the days that my father would come to visit me in my crib. I would stand up and pull at the facemask he was required to wear and let it snap back on his mouth. I would do this until the elastic broke and then we'd do it again. It was truly great fun.

Re: Post a childhood memory
 

Thanks Katy, and great idea for a thread, it's threads like this that make me enjoy the Lounge so much. Great and touching stories by all.

Happy Birthday Tenn!

Ok, I'll tell y'all another one, keep in mind, this tale is from the memory of a six year old, so there might be some unintentional exageration.

When I was six, and lived in Georgia, my parents took my brother and I to see the movie Grease. That day was the first day I truly knew the meaning of love, or maybe even lust in the mind of a six year old. Olivia Newton John was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, and I decided that she must realize I was the one for her, yes, I was the world's youngest stalker.

At six I was pretty ingenuitive, having already built our doorless clubhouse, yes a small oversite on my part. I also loved taking mine and my brothers toys apart to see how they worked, to his dismay. I was definitely more handy then, than I am now. So I decided that the only way to score chicks, or Olivia Newton John for that matter, was to own a car, a hot car, like the one in Grease.

So with that in mind, I went to building a go-cart. It was a pretty simple go cart, two evenly cut sides, a back, and some plywood on the bottom with wheels. Not exactly constucted with safety as a priority, there were bent nails along with some unbent, hanging out everywhere. Finally when it was done to my satisfaction, I painted it, just like the car in Grease, well, as much as my abilities allowed it to. I wasn't very good with lightning bolts, I've included an interpretation of what it looked like, that I think is fairly accurate.

http://i142.photobucket.com/albums/r...ud/gocart2.jpg

After it's completion, I and the rest of the kids in the neighborhood were pretty excited to see it's maiden voyage. So the big day finally came and in true Evel Kneivel style, I was dressed for the occasion, I was wearing my Superman underoos and a Dallas Cowboys football helmet, for safety of course.

Our house was in a cul-de-sac, that was lead to by a road that came down a pretty steep hill, then curved into that cul-de-sac. So my brother and I pushed the cart all the way to the top of the hill, and he went and got his big wheel, he was part of the chase team.

We gathered the neighbohood kids, which consisted of the twin girls, who I was set on if Olivia Newton John turned me down, my brother, and my friends Brandy and Jeremy. It was a pretty good turn out in my opinion. So after some, I'm sure, idiotic speech, I got in and my brother started pushing me down the hill.

I've previously called this contraption a go-cart. I believe that to be an erroneous statement now, upon further reflection. See, a go-cart tends to denote some form of breaking or even steering, but my box on wheels had neither of those. I also realized it then, about halfway down the hill, cramped in this little box, nails sloppily sticking out of everywhere. I did what any brilliant six year old would do, I panicked. I bailed out, tipping the whole thing, and rolled down the rest of the hill. I had some scrapes and bruises, nothing serious, course, I was crying my head off, and my brother road his big wheel down to my rescue.

Well, for a while at the top of that hill, I felt like a superstar. I was chock full of confidence, had the attention of the girls, the adoration of my friends, it felt great. Of course, it, like most of my attempts to woo women for quite a long time, fell flat, but it was great anyway.

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The best was when my mom and dad brought home my younger brother. I was just over 3 years old and my older brother was 8. There's a cool picture with My older brother and I sitting in a big chair and holding our new younger brother between the two of us with my Mom closely hovering behind. I remember that day. My dad rough-housed with both my older brother and I. There was lots of laughing and smiling...giddiness.

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....just got around to reading this thread.

Thanks much to all who posted as reading all of the posts has brought back many memories from fun to tragedy.

I will share some shortly.....right now Monday and its' full workload is about to begin.

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Some context: Seeing as my father is one of 5 boys who are all over 6 feet tall, my family is naturally a basketball family. My uncle was a Parade 3rd team All-American out of High School (the same year Kareem was player of the year...i've seen the magazine, there's even a picture of my uncle...he also once beat Bill Russell at HORSE) and pretty much everyone played varisty. i know of at least 6 state titles where at least one McNelly was a key starter.

Some of my earliest, fondest memories involve basketball season, how the first NBA Finals I ever watched was the Celtics/Rockets series, which a large portion of the family watched at my grandparent's house, how large portions of my summers as a kid involved pick up games, winning a state title with my father as the coach and my brother as my backcourt partner, and even now one of the hilights of going home is playing pickup games or helping my brother run the practice of our alma mater.

But, when I was a kid, the local CBS affiliate would broadcast all the Boston road games (this was back when Larry Bird was still playing) and I'd get to watch sometimes all the way to halftime before I had to go to bed. Very quickly, I learned that if I laid on the floor of my room and lowered my head slightly over the edge of the stairs, I could still see the game undetected.

I watched a lot of basketball that way, especially during the NCAA tourney.

If I was lucky, Mom, who wasn't big into basketball, would go to bed sometime in the third quarter, and if the game was close down the stretch, Dad would "wake me up" and let me watch the last couple of minutes, provided I didn't tell Mom. The Duke/UNLV game was one such game (I modeled my play after Bobby Hurley, so I was then, and still am, a Duke fan).

It's such a minor thing, but to a kid, the chance to secretly watch the end of a close game when you're supposed to be in bed is beyond cool. Especially for a kid like me who later would tape World Series games and get up 3 hours early to watch them before school, rather than risk having to go to bed before they were over and missing something amazing.

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I remember my Dad set up a basketball hoop when I was about 7 years old. My brother, dad, grandfather and I played many 2 on 2 games over the next 5 years.

I remember my dad being an assistant coach for my little league team. He would pitch every batting practice. He set up a pitching mound in our back yard and would catch for me and my brother. Neither of us was a pitcher (or very good at baseball), but he always had time to play with us.

(Sad note -- Our first little league coach was a police officer who was killed in the line of duty by a 16 year old kid about 2 years later. There is a park named after him in my hometown.)

Another fond memory is spending Friday nights with my grandparents when I was 10-13. My grandparents would come over to the house for dinner and then I would head back with them to their mobile home. We would stay up and watch a MASH rerun at 11:30 followed by the CBS late movie. My grandfather would fall asleep and snore. I would usually fall asleep on the floor. The next day he would take me to the clubhouse to shoot pool.

Finally, I remember learning to water ski with my other grandfather. My dad took me up with him and put my feet on the skis in front of his. My grandfather waterskiied well into his 80s.

Thanks for this thread idea. I have not thought about some of these things in a while.

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My first memory. I was either 2 or 3 when this happened.

For some reason, my Dad was watching me one weekend and he had to go into work. He had (and still has) a white collar job working for GE, but his office building is on the same grounds as a bunch of GE factories. The blue collar factory workers were all on strike, but there weren't any protesters outside the gate when we went in... probably because it was the weekend.

Anyway, by the time my Father had finished working, the pissed-off Union Workers had all showed up at the plant gate. They were blocking the exit and yelling at us. Some security guards were trying to hold them back, but a few of them broke through the guards and rushed the car. My window was open, and one obese, greasy union worker put his head inside the car, looked at me, and the yelled at my Dad "Teachin' ya kid to be a SCAAAAAAB!!!??" I thought that was hilarious. End of memory.

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My childhood was a combination of really good things and some really crappy things as well. My mother was Bi-Polar (Manic-Depressive) and so a lot of the good things were pushed aside by totally crazy stuff that a person would rather forget.

Anyway, One of the really fun things I can remember is when my dad and I would hop in the car and go "Bumming". I do not know why in the world he called it that but he did. "Bumming" was a night out with just the two of us and no set plan. We would go until we found something that looked like fun and do it. It might have been an arcade and playing pinball. It might have been a pool hall and playing pool. It might have been just going and getting Ice Cream from the Dairy Queen, whatever.

One of these bumming nights I remember in particular was the night we went to the opening of Jaws! No one had seen this movie yet and no one knew quite what to expect. We came up to the movie theater and there was this huge line so we figured it must be something good. We waited our turn and got our tickets.

I have never ever seen a theater filled with people who were so scared in all of my life. At one point I was watching the people more than the movie, mainly because I was too scared to watch!. People were literally diving into the floor of the theater and screaming and leaving because they were so scared. My dad even lost a contact lens that night because he was throwing his hands up to cover his face and hit his eye and the thing popped out! (I think that was when the head came out of the hole in the boat) I had to go, much later, to see the movie again because there were so many things I missed. I didn't have any idea what came out of the bottom of that boat until a second viewing and no one else who had seen it could tell me either!

Anyway, I will always look back on our "Bumming" night and smile and remember just how much fun it was with just the two of us and no other plan that to do something FUN.

I miss my dad.

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You too, huh? Yeah, got nailed by the same disease, Valentine's Day, '80.

Blew out my eardrums but left everything else intact. Anger didn't set in until my teens. Anyway.

Here's another story. Dad's in construction, we're on-site before the official opening of the SkyDome. You know, just suits and some invited workers in weekend clothing, having pizza and whatever, I remember looking down lakeside and being told that they found lots of glass garbage while doing the initial preparations for the site.

That 50 years previously, that stretch of land was actually the lakeshore. Being with Dad, knowing he was a part of something truly big. Took me to a spot on the site, says this is gonna be home plate for the stadium.

And it's in every skyline picture of Toronto. Spent a lot of Saturdays on-site watching the workers build the Dome. It's not until recently I realized how fortunate I was to be a part of that experience. Every time I pass by, every time I go to a Jays game, it always feels like home, 'cause I know how much work went into building that stadium, that feeling of pride when I can say, you know what, my own Dad helped build that thing. It'll stand even after we're ashes and frozen patterns in spacetime.

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[ QUOTE ]
My childhood was a combination of really good things and some really crappy things as well. My mother was Bi-Polar (Manic-Depressive) and so a lot of the good things were pushed aside by totally crazy stuff that a person would rather forget.


[/ QUOTE ]

Well that answers why I don't remember much....

More Hawaii memories (love to hear more from other people too, btw).

Every big wave season (I left when I was 10, so that's how I remember it) the waves would be so big that they'd crash into the canals and for the kids, like me, who didn't wanna deal with drowning that day, we'd hang out there. The canals were made of concrete and the walls were 15/20 ft on each side. We'd catch a wave and it'd take us about 500 feet up. Most of the time we'd climb the walls and perfectly plan our jump so just when the wave hits the spot you jump and it'd carry you up a ways. Boogie & body boarding was awesome here too, especially when you were just learning.

I wish I could describe it better. And I did thank my dad a few years back for letting me grow up in Hawaii. Best thing that could ever happen to a kid.

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It was nice to read these again.

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Wow, I've never read the lounge, don't know who Katy is, or any of you (of course I am much more anonymous to you). Lurked for quite awhile on these forums. I must say, I can relate to every post and instead of typing my memories at the end of a long day, I will go home with a smile and rejuvenation- THANK YOU!

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Glad you liked some of the stuff here, dvh. Check out some of the linked threads at the top of the forum, too. There's a lot of great stuff from the last year or so to read too.

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I could have lost my virginity at 5 years old to the perverted 8 year old neighbour's daughter. When we were playing one afternoon, she took me to a garage and proceeded to show me her private parts. I was rather surprised. Then she laid down on the ground and instructed me on how to mount her, saying it was a game called Hippopotamus. I did not want to pull down my pants, sensing something seriously wrong. Instead I just sat on her stomach, bounced up and down a few times, and then got the hell out. Compared to most kids growing up, Hungry Hungry Hippo had a profoundly different meaning for me.

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I remember when I first decided that it was right to kill at times.

See, there was this skunk in the back yard. It was dying, sick, and could hardly move. Since we weren't about to take a skunk to the vet, an option would have been to just leave it there.

I didn't think that that would be right. If there were some way to save it, I would have tried that. But there wasn't, and all he'd have gotten out of s ignoring him was a few more hours of agony.

So my mom wouldn't let me take a gun (I was 9), and I was forced to throw large rocks at it from about 30' away. I had a pretty good arm, so it only took a few shots. I made sure it was dead after the first hit knocked it out, and then got it on a shovel and walked it to the back of my yard. We had 10 acres, so this was about a 500' walk. I dug a little hole and dumped it in.

I felt terrible about killing the skunk, but if there were no way for me to be saved, I'd have wanted it to do that for me, as quickly as possible.

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When I was 11 my sister and mother came to my school and picked me up (I usually took the bus home). When we got home, my mom asked me if I would go into my room because there was a surprise for me. I went in, and there was the most beautiful little puppy in there. It wasn't my birthday, a holiday or anything, just a surprise. He was my first dog ever, I had wanted one my whole life. For some reason after many many years of begging, my parents decided it was the right time to get one. I think they were waiting until I was old enough to really care for him. It is one of the best memories of my life.

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[ QUOTE ]
I remember when I first decided that it was right to kill at times.

See, there was this skunk in the back yard. It was dying, sick, and could hardly move. Since we weren't about to take a skunk to the vet, an option would have been to just leave it there.

I didn't think that that would be right. If there were some way to save it, I would have tried that. But there wasn't, and all he'd have gotten out of s ignoring him was a few more hours of agony.

So my mom wouldn't let me take a gun (I was 9), and I was forced to throw large rocks at it from about 30' away. I had a pretty good arm, so it only took a few shots. I made sure it was dead after the first hit knocked it out, and then got it on a shovel and walked it to the back of my yard. We had 10 acres, so this was about a 500' walk. I dug a little hole and dumped it in.

I felt terrible about killing the skunk, but if there were no way for me to be saved, I'd have wanted it to do that for me, as quickly as possible.

[/ QUOTE ]
whats 30' for us people not from skunkland?

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memories of doing not much with my dad.

watching monday night football...

watching "The Sunday Night Mystery" which was either
McCloud, Mannix, or I think Columbo ?

playing chess, backgammon with him.

he used to help me practice making the "Willie Mays" catch.
you start facing each other. Then my dad would throw a high
fly ball over my head, I would have to turn and run and
catch it over my shoulder. It helped make me quite a good
little baseball player.

my old schwinn typhoon that i used to ride for miles and
thought i went everywhere until i talked to other kids
that made me look like a lightweight, including my girl
friend in high school, who could ride no-handed on her
10-speed in 10th gear and simply FLY. i could not keep
up no matter what.