Well, I think that this is a wonderful thread. For us old timers (Hee, hee), I am 55, (oops, typed 54, had to correct, thank goodness I still don't need white out). I am on the lower edge of that baby boomer thingy they speak about. I remember all the things that you guys are all mentioning. Memories, life is made of these. And I think that this thread should plain and simply carry on, or someone start a new thread about the memories of childhood. It brings back wonderful (and probably hideous thoughts too) memories of what we did as children. We all have stories to tell, and they should be told.
[quote Or maybe you were into chewing the tar that oozed out of the road near the curb? /quote]
I remember something similar. In those days as a child we lived on the top of a hill, all homes had small acreages around us, except for the place at the bottom of the hill that had a horse stable and boarded horses. Everyones place had a name, like "Lawrences's field" "Water's Stable" "Yonker's Farm", and so on, we knew exactly who was who in our neighbourhood. We even had a place that we were sure had a witch that lived in there, we were terrified to walk by, especially at night, but we always got up our gumption and walked on by.
The roads in those days were made of weird stuff, tar, pitch, pebbles. You will all remember these types of roads, maybe they still make them, I don't know. This will go to show how hot it was in those days, global warming, I can be my bottom dollar these roads really bubble and brew nowadays.
Every summer we would have so much fun. We would sit on the side of the road and the pitch on the road, inbetween the small pebbles would bubble. We would sit for hours pushing these little bubbles flat, we didn't chew this tar like John said he and his pals did, but we certainly had tarry (how do you spell tar ee any ways) fingers, ichy stuff, but it was fun.
This was funny when Brendan spoke about Pong, just yesterday my Husband and I were having a coffee with my cousin, and she was talking about how her boy are always so busy playing outside on their acreage. We were talking about video games and how the kids really get interacting with them nowadays and he spoke of Pong. Just a weird thought, thinking out loud.
We had a train track that had two lines going each way (well they probably all do eh?). We used to get on these darn train tracks and play chicken with the trains. Were we nuts? I pitty those poor train drivers, they probably absolutely hated to engineer those trains in the vacinity that had the crazy kids. Why? We didn't have any death wish, it was just a challenge. We all survived that, by the way.
Beautiful day, beautiful life. Cindi