It was the summer going into our eight grade year. My best friend and I were up town at our city courts. As of most kids they look up to there dads. Well in this case my friend was looking up to his dad in all the wrong reasons. My friends dad chewed tobacco like a mad man. There wasn't a time when he didn't have a chew in it seemed like. Just like in every town there is that one high school kid that someone knows who will hook up kids looking for some tobacco products. My friend made the purchase, it was a purple can of grape kayak chew. Now that I look back on it that just sounds awful, but grape pop was good right?
His mom picked us up to go to his house for the weekend. I had a bag with all my cloths in it so we put it in there. I took my bag when I got to his house and put it behind the couch where I would sleep that night. We soon decided to to go out with our pellet guns to the woods and take the chew with us. We got to the woods and he put a dip in, he talked me into trying it. We were not experienced in this field of work, but had watched his dad do it many times. The feeling was awful. My lip burned, it tasted nothing like grape as I imagined it would. As we walked through the woods my head started to spin and I felt nauseous. I had to man up though because my buddy wasn't saying anything. We soon spit it out and went back towards the house. My mouth wanted nothing more then a drink of anything wet. I got back to the house and immediately drank some water.
Now thinking about it we probably were acting rather strange in front of his mom as she watched with intent. She asked where we had been, we told here that we were hunting birds, and squirrels across the road in the state land. We put the chew back in the bag and went to play some xbox. My friend later decided he was ready to do it again. Maybe it was the adrenaline rush he was getting from doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing, but I wanted nothing to do with that stuff again. I couldn't get that awful taste out of my mouth.
We grabbed the can out of the bag getting ready to set back out to the woods, but it was empty. We both looked at each other with wide eyes. I had it in the woods, but didn't recall spilling it, or even coming close. We opened it in the house a few times to look at it and thought for sure we spilled it in here somewhere. We crawled around the house looking for it. How I even thought at the time that's what happened. It is just what we wanted to believe. We just wanted to find it before his mom did. Little did we know she found it already. We never found out what happened to the chew that day, week, or year. It was a mystery, but we didn't care because we didn't ever get in trouble for it. We didn't find out until it was our senior year and his mom asked us if we still wondered what happened to that chew. She then told us she dumped it out and just watched us panic looking for it, and our punishment was applied through our panic. She said she could tell how we were acting that something was up. Her method installed fear into me and my friend for a long time. Yet it is a great memory to look back on and laugh at how dumb we could be!
Monday, September 29, 2014
Monday, September 22, 2014
Capture and Rumble
All my life I was never a fighter. My family knows me as the hugger, random hugs from me always makes their days. I was always taught to walk away from conflicts, even if the best scenario seems to be a knuckle sandwich. Yet there was one time, and one time only when all these thoughts of being a lover and not a fighter just turned off. My best friends neighbor found this out the hard way.
It was another one of those summer nights. The air was crisp, the campfire was roaring in the front of the house. All the parents sat around the fire, while the kids played in the backyard. It was a capture the flag kind of night and the game was intense. The teams were a combination of neighbor kids, and kids of family friends. The house sat on a hill, and the back yard went to a gentle slope down the hill. The hill is were the line was set for our sides. Our team was winning and only needing one more point to score. It was as intense as a game of capture the flag gets when you are twelve years old. My best friend was on my team, he was the fastest kid playing. We developed a plan to get the flag. My distraction worked, he grabbed the flag and ran across the line. This is were everything went down hill, literally.
He ran across the line yelling "we won, we won." This is exactly when the hot tempered neighbor kid ran out of nowhere. He tackled my friend down the hill. My friend by no means was a big kid, and was defiantly in the situation of being picked on by someone much bigger. The whole thing reminds me now of a cartoon when you see them fighting and its just a cloud of dust. I stopped and my heart began to race, and I was enraged with anger.I didn't know how to control this feeling. Before I knew it I was flying down the hill and tackled the neighbor kid off his feet. The fight didn't last long. After the initial hit I had complete control and gave him a few swift blows to the noggin, and a bloody lip. Eventually human nature told me to stop and he ran home crying.
I made sure my friend was alright. He said very little due to the fact I was the last person he would expect to hit someone. We walked into our house trying to play it off cool, but our parents already knew something was up. We told them them the story and despite a little anger they took it well. Eventually we went back outside and enjoyed our night. The neighbor boy eventually moved away not due to the fact I laid the beat down on him, but we never had to deal with him again. We never were really sure why he why he got so angry at our victory in a small game of capture the flag. My friend and I sometimes still look back on it and wonder. I don't provoke fighting, but sometimes it is needed for the arrogant people who just don't understand.
It was another one of those summer nights. The air was crisp, the campfire was roaring in the front of the house. All the parents sat around the fire, while the kids played in the backyard. It was a capture the flag kind of night and the game was intense. The teams were a combination of neighbor kids, and kids of family friends. The house sat on a hill, and the back yard went to a gentle slope down the hill. The hill is were the line was set for our sides. Our team was winning and only needing one more point to score. It was as intense as a game of capture the flag gets when you are twelve years old. My best friend was on my team, he was the fastest kid playing. We developed a plan to get the flag. My distraction worked, he grabbed the flag and ran across the line. This is were everything went down hill, literally.
He ran across the line yelling "we won, we won." This is exactly when the hot tempered neighbor kid ran out of nowhere. He tackled my friend down the hill. My friend by no means was a big kid, and was defiantly in the situation of being picked on by someone much bigger. The whole thing reminds me now of a cartoon when you see them fighting and its just a cloud of dust. I stopped and my heart began to race, and I was enraged with anger.I didn't know how to control this feeling. Before I knew it I was flying down the hill and tackled the neighbor kid off his feet. The fight didn't last long. After the initial hit I had complete control and gave him a few swift blows to the noggin, and a bloody lip. Eventually human nature told me to stop and he ran home crying.
I made sure my friend was alright. He said very little due to the fact I was the last person he would expect to hit someone. We walked into our house trying to play it off cool, but our parents already knew something was up. We told them them the story and despite a little anger they took it well. Eventually we went back outside and enjoyed our night. The neighbor boy eventually moved away not due to the fact I laid the beat down on him, but we never had to deal with him again. We never were really sure why he why he got so angry at our victory in a small game of capture the flag. My friend and I sometimes still look back on it and wonder. I don't provoke fighting, but sometimes it is needed for the arrogant people who just don't understand.
Monday, September 15, 2014
The First Hunt
It was 5 a.m. on a Saturday morning. I woke up to my dad nudging me to get up for the morning hunt. I usually have a hard time getting up in the morning, but today was my first day to have the gun in my hand. I quickly hopped out of bed. The aroma of fresh brewed coffee filled the house and the a fresh piece of golden brown toast stuck out of the toaster. I quickly hopped in the shower and ran down stairs to get my hunting clothes on. My heart was racing, I had never felt so excited in my life to do something at this time in the morning. After all the years of going out in the morning to sit with my dad and this morning, it was my turn!
Finally, it was time to leave and head out to my uncles where we were going to go hunt. Fred Bear was on the radio, as it is every morning during hunting season it seems. We arrived at my uncles and they were just as excited as I was. We began our walk back to the hunting shack. It was a crisp fall morning in November. The dew sparkled white from the moon that still was high in the sky. As we walked the leaves crunched and echoed through the woods. Not having any control over this, I was upset because I thought by the time we got there all the deer would be scared out of the woods. We finally arrived to the hunting shack which we called the "Brandy Shack." It was just big enough to fit four people but we had six jammed in tight all just as eager as I was to get my first deer.
The sun finally started to rise above the tree line, and the woods was coming alive. Birds sang their songs as my heart raced, and my breath carried its way out the shack window and disappeared over the food plot. It seemed as if the minutes took hours while I was waiting. I was usually pretty patient when I went out with my dad, but now that I had the gun it was a whole different world. Finally, some crunching from behind us came my heart began to race. My dad got me all set up just in case it was the deer we were going to take. My heart trembled and seemed to skip beats. My body was shaking uncontrollably and there the deer was. The deer was a big doe and she was a shooter. She came from the south and circled around to the bait in front. I held the gun up to my shoulder, looked down the long sleek black barrel to the golden bead on the end. My dad whisper to me all my last minute techniques that he didn't want me to forget in the mix of all my excitement. I finally squeezed off the trigger and watched the doe take off into the woods.
My heart was beating so fast I couldn't even talk. Then I heard the words I didn't want to hear, "you missed." My heart sank. I didn't know what to do, or how I could have missed! My uncle handed me the binoculars, and showed me the small sapling that I had shot down behind were the deer had been standing. A small tear ran down my cheek in disappointment. My dad and family pepped me up and said we will get it next time. We went out the following night, and had no luck. At this point my whole world had turned upside down and I thought I was never going to get a deer.
The next morning my dad and uncle couldn't go out hunting, but my cousin took me out instead. It was just me and him and my new red dot scope I woke up to on my gun. We once again took our hike out to the shack and was ready to give it another go around. The morning was slow, and we were just ready to pack up when I spotted a doe in the distance. My cousin took a guess at how far away she was and told me to take the shot. I was nervous. I had never shot this far in my life. I slowly pulled the gun up and remembered everything my dad had told me the morning before, but this time make sure I didn't miss. I pulled the trigger one more time thinking for sure if I missed this time I wasn't meant to be a hunter. I fired, my cousin said it was a clean hit, but I had my doubts. We let time pass and went back to the house and gave my uncle and dad a call to give them the news.
When my dad and uncle showed up a few hours later I was ready to find out the truth. We rode back on the four wheelers to where we thought the deer was at. Not twenty yards away was a white belly laying in the woods. This time the tear that ran down my face was of pure joy and disbelief. I had done it! My family was so happy for me, and now I felt as if I was one of them. I was finally a hunter!
Finally, it was time to leave and head out to my uncles where we were going to go hunt. Fred Bear was on the radio, as it is every morning during hunting season it seems. We arrived at my uncles and they were just as excited as I was. We began our walk back to the hunting shack. It was a crisp fall morning in November. The dew sparkled white from the moon that still was high in the sky. As we walked the leaves crunched and echoed through the woods. Not having any control over this, I was upset because I thought by the time we got there all the deer would be scared out of the woods. We finally arrived to the hunting shack which we called the "Brandy Shack." It was just big enough to fit four people but we had six jammed in tight all just as eager as I was to get my first deer.
The sun finally started to rise above the tree line, and the woods was coming alive. Birds sang their songs as my heart raced, and my breath carried its way out the shack window and disappeared over the food plot. It seemed as if the minutes took hours while I was waiting. I was usually pretty patient when I went out with my dad, but now that I had the gun it was a whole different world. Finally, some crunching from behind us came my heart began to race. My dad got me all set up just in case it was the deer we were going to take. My heart trembled and seemed to skip beats. My body was shaking uncontrollably and there the deer was. The deer was a big doe and she was a shooter. She came from the south and circled around to the bait in front. I held the gun up to my shoulder, looked down the long sleek black barrel to the golden bead on the end. My dad whisper to me all my last minute techniques that he didn't want me to forget in the mix of all my excitement. I finally squeezed off the trigger and watched the doe take off into the woods.
My heart was beating so fast I couldn't even talk. Then I heard the words I didn't want to hear, "you missed." My heart sank. I didn't know what to do, or how I could have missed! My uncle handed me the binoculars, and showed me the small sapling that I had shot down behind were the deer had been standing. A small tear ran down my cheek in disappointment. My dad and family pepped me up and said we will get it next time. We went out the following night, and had no luck. At this point my whole world had turned upside down and I thought I was never going to get a deer.
The next morning my dad and uncle couldn't go out hunting, but my cousin took me out instead. It was just me and him and my new red dot scope I woke up to on my gun. We once again took our hike out to the shack and was ready to give it another go around. The morning was slow, and we were just ready to pack up when I spotted a doe in the distance. My cousin took a guess at how far away she was and told me to take the shot. I was nervous. I had never shot this far in my life. I slowly pulled the gun up and remembered everything my dad had told me the morning before, but this time make sure I didn't miss. I pulled the trigger one more time thinking for sure if I missed this time I wasn't meant to be a hunter. I fired, my cousin said it was a clean hit, but I had my doubts. We let time pass and went back to the house and gave my uncle and dad a call to give them the news.
When my dad and uncle showed up a few hours later I was ready to find out the truth. We rode back on the four wheelers to where we thought the deer was at. Not twenty yards away was a white belly laying in the woods. This time the tear that ran down my face was of pure joy and disbelief. I had done it! My family was so happy for me, and now I felt as if I was one of them. I was finally a hunter!
Monday, September 8, 2014
The reason I chose the topic of child hood memories is to help share and remember some of the great times growing up. Now some of my greatest memories will be on paper, and somewhere I can always go back and read when these memories begin to get a little foggy. It will only be a few clicks away and I can go back and read these memories and travel back in time to the "good days." When work, money, and the adult life wasn't all that relevant.
It was 2001, and the first Harry Potter movie had just came out. The talk was all about the movie and it let our imaginations run free. Monday morning came and I was back at my baby sitters house. We were sitting in the unfinished playroom with a giant toy chest and a book shelf that covered almost a whole wall. As we sat in the room we were all astonished about the brick wall that took you to another world filled with witches, goblins, and other mystical beings. We soon discovered at the bottom and top of one of the walls were screws. Oblivious at the time that they were only drywall screws, our imagination got the best of us once again. We decided that behind the wall after removing the screws was a this old beat up red brick wall, that would take us to Hogwarts. The only thing keeping us from traveling to Hogwarts was a screw driver.
Being the only boy at our babysitters, I was always stuck with doing the risky business. The girls finally came up with a plan to get the screw driver. The house had an open floor plan, outside of the playroom door was the living room. Every morning our babysitter sat on a ugly floral pattern sofa, with her back to us watching Regis and Kelly. The first act of business was to get out of the playroom. The junk drawer was on the exact opposite side of the house in the kitchen. We had to first open the door which made the sound of every door in a horror movie. The task began, one of the girls opened the door. As she opened the door I began to army crawl out behind the couch to the ceramic kitchen floor. The girls all watched with an intense look on there face through the cracked door. As I reached up into the drawer and grabbed the screw driver, I gave them the thumbs up. As soon as the signal was given the dog began to bark at the door in the kitchen. My babysitter got up to let him in. I had to make a quick move. I did a power slide, one that resembled one off an action movie my dad watched, directly under the kitchen table. I looked across the living room at the girls who looked at ease after the intense moment. When she got to the entry way to let the dog in, I made a mad dash to the playroom and we shut the door.
We went to work quietly, maybe to quiet. I climbed to the top of the book shelf and removed all the screws. The dry wall hung there limply, the next step was to move the shelf and get to Hogwarts. That's when our extreme silence became to suspicious for our baby sitter and she walked in. Her jaw dropped to the floor when she saw what we had done. Our faces quickly turned a tomato red, with a pit in our stomachs. At this point in time I can't remember if her face was worse then ours, but we didn't think the it was going to go over as well as it did. We soon explained our story, and she let us off easy, at least easier then she should have let us off. That was the day I discovered that Hogwarts was not real, and what drywall screws were actually used for.
It was 2001, and the first Harry Potter movie had just came out. The talk was all about the movie and it let our imaginations run free. Monday morning came and I was back at my baby sitters house. We were sitting in the unfinished playroom with a giant toy chest and a book shelf that covered almost a whole wall. As we sat in the room we were all astonished about the brick wall that took you to another world filled with witches, goblins, and other mystical beings. We soon discovered at the bottom and top of one of the walls were screws. Oblivious at the time that they were only drywall screws, our imagination got the best of us once again. We decided that behind the wall after removing the screws was a this old beat up red brick wall, that would take us to Hogwarts. The only thing keeping us from traveling to Hogwarts was a screw driver.
Being the only boy at our babysitters, I was always stuck with doing the risky business. The girls finally came up with a plan to get the screw driver. The house had an open floor plan, outside of the playroom door was the living room. Every morning our babysitter sat on a ugly floral pattern sofa, with her back to us watching Regis and Kelly. The first act of business was to get out of the playroom. The junk drawer was on the exact opposite side of the house in the kitchen. We had to first open the door which made the sound of every door in a horror movie. The task began, one of the girls opened the door. As she opened the door I began to army crawl out behind the couch to the ceramic kitchen floor. The girls all watched with an intense look on there face through the cracked door. As I reached up into the drawer and grabbed the screw driver, I gave them the thumbs up. As soon as the signal was given the dog began to bark at the door in the kitchen. My babysitter got up to let him in. I had to make a quick move. I did a power slide, one that resembled one off an action movie my dad watched, directly under the kitchen table. I looked across the living room at the girls who looked at ease after the intense moment. When she got to the entry way to let the dog in, I made a mad dash to the playroom and we shut the door.
We went to work quietly, maybe to quiet. I climbed to the top of the book shelf and removed all the screws. The dry wall hung there limply, the next step was to move the shelf and get to Hogwarts. That's when our extreme silence became to suspicious for our baby sitter and she walked in. Her jaw dropped to the floor when she saw what we had done. Our faces quickly turned a tomato red, with a pit in our stomachs. At this point in time I can't remember if her face was worse then ours, but we didn't think the it was going to go over as well as it did. We soon explained our story, and she let us off easy, at least easier then she should have let us off. That was the day I discovered that Hogwarts was not real, and what drywall screws were actually used for.
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