Legion World Forums LEGION COMPANION The Anywhere Machine Random childhood memories

Rock'em Sock'em Robots -- pretty damned cool...

getting into heated fights with my friends after a game of "butts-up" went very wrong.
i guess i'm not the only one but my friends and i also use to pretend to be G-force from Battle of the Planets , that and also the Star Force from StarBlazers .
and one time (out of many) tormenting my brother by chasing him around the house with a freshly picked snotty bogger and having him scream his head off so loud that the neighbors from two houses down heard him. of course i got a major ass whuppin' from my grandmother when she got home because the stupid ass neighbor called her at work. but i used to live for tormenting my brother so i didn't mind.

Splitting Dave Watts head wide open with a stone during our daily "battles" in primary 2 (aged about 5). Trying to hide from the teachers by hiding under desks / behind doors etc. - the worst hiding places ever.

Getting my arse tanned by the teachers. Oh the humiliation.
Paula Duncan had her pop-gun/rifle taken away from her because of the incident, even though they were un-related.

Then having to go home and confess to my mum.
Thankfully I had, because some little neighbourhood clipe was knocking on the door two minutes later....

But then I got her back later by smashing an egg over her head....Ah, revenge. I think my mum smacked my arse for that one, but it was well worth it.

My Headmistress of the time had the coolest name of anybody I've ever known - Miss Isles.

When I was about 5, my best friend Beth said "Let's throw rocks at cars." She meant the sand grains along the side of the road, but I took up an big rock, probably about 1/2 a pound. Beth trew the sand at a truck, while I heaved the rock at a passing car. The rock cause a dent in the strip of metal just below the door. The lady driving the car was so mad.

I forget how it sorted out. I don't remember getting punished, just talked to.

The upshot was that at the time my dad had his own body shop and the woman came to my dad to repair the dent. I am sure he didn't charge her.

I remember me and Peter Watson daring each other to run past her door shouting "bombs away" and thinking it was the FUNNIEST thing ever.... ahhh to be 5 again

When I was old enough to stay at home by myself I knocked a knicknack off the wall trying to do a handstand. It broke but I told my parents it fell off the wall because they were blasting over at the rock quarry, which did in fact shake the house from time to time. Just not that day.

The recent death of author Russell Hoban has triggered a ton of memories about his books for children about Frances the hedgehog.

This one was my favorite:



I first read it in fourth grade, a particularly tough year, what with my school moving to a new, hideous campus out in the sticks, my parents going through a difficult phase of their marriage, and my grandparents divorcing.

I was an only child, spoiled and selfish, and this book, in which Frances is tempted to eat the Chompo bar she bought for her little sister as a birthday present, but in the end does the right thing, taught me an important lesson without talking down to me or preaching.

I'm feeling very wistful right now...

My mother took my sister and I to the public library each week when we were children. She would read the books we checked out to us each night. I have a very vivid memory of crying when Frances was scolded by her mother in "Bread and Jam for Frances". Mom wiped my tears and told me that Frances's mother wouldn't stay mad and really loved her.

Thanks for sharing that, Jerry. I'm glad there's at least one other Legion Worlder who remembers the Frances books.

When I was about 13 or so, I was alone all day during the summer while my parents were at work. One day I rode up to the Library and got out a sound effects LP.

I spent the next several hours practicing getting the spots on the record right for my master plan.

That afternoon, my father got home and went into our den to watch television...my plan went into effect.

I started with the sound of a motorcycle revving it's engine and squawking it's tires, then hit a good motor roaring sound, followed by screeching tires and a crashing sound.

My dad came tearing out of the den and looked out the front door for the accident...which was about to happen as he turned and saw me laughing hysterically on the ground by the record player.

After a brief chase...thankfully I was always faster than my dad, he was impressed by the amount of effort it took to get the three sounds down seamlessly on the record.

Speaking of the Frances books (they were big favorites in our house back in the day), and plastic tea sets...

I remember that when I was five or six years old, we lived on a street in suburban N.J. called Whalepond Road. Our neighbors were the Manzos, of Italian-Roman Catholic stock. Their twin daughters were around my seven-year-old sister's age. A few days before Xmas, they brought Jenn and me a big gift-wrapped box: It was a very detailed plastic tea set. They told us that Santa had stopped by their place early and said it was a gift for their friends.

In retrospect, I guess that was an awkward moment for my folks, who taught us that there was nothing wrong with not having a tree and the other trappings of the Christian holiday, but we were thrilled at the though that Santa remembered US!

I used to go walking late at night, because I barely ever slept as a teen, sneaking out of the house after midnight, wandering around town and sneaking back in around 4 or 5 AM.

I remember one winter, out for a walk, and it started snowing, just a little bit, and I stood there, looking up, at the snowflakes coming down towards me (lit by the streetlights) and imagined that I was flying through hyperspace, and the snowflakes were stars streaking past. I must have stood there, arms outstretched, imagining that I was flying through space, for a half hour.

I remember once, when I was about six or so, I got the idea in my head that I hated my real name and I was going to change it to... wait for it... "Jackie".

I have no memory of why I thought that was a cool name. I think I would have been too young to know of Jackie Gleason or Jackie Cooper... maybe I was a big fan of Jackie Jokers from Richie Rich... but in any case, I remember writing "Jackie" on the first page of all my books.

It passed after about a month or so but, man, what a strange kid.

So...you're saying the strangeness passed, or just being wanted to be called Jackie?

Well... I guess the strangeness "passed" in the sense of a car passing me on the road... that is to say, it blew by me and I've been traveling in its wake ever since.

Exnihil, the plastic bag on the highway of life, buffeted by passing cars only to get stuck in a ditch.


*Hopefully, that ain't true, but I liked the imagery. "sometimes, I get facinated by a plastic bag blowing in the wind, and then, there's a chick, and someone shots someone an.... on , no, wait, that was some crappy chick flick."

Focus on the little plastic bag, Rick....

Ketchup. I put it on most everything - bacon, ham, cheese, meatballs, french fries, chicken, potato chips, bread, crackers...