Well, another day and another class trying to learn something. It is amazing to me that when I was young and learning stuff was free and easy, I was not interested in the whole concept. And now, here I am 70 years old with my mind so full of stuff that I can not pick out one vital piece of information and I now want to cram some more stuff in there to clutter it up even worse. But I shall clutter, none the less.
Let me see, what else have I been up to? Well, I have been trying to figure out how to write about my childhood in Nickerson, Kansas and I am getting confused. If I just start at the beginning that is a pretty boring story. So I have arrived at the concept of just giving you snippets of my younger days. Like now, the story playing out in my head is the one where I got my first bicycle.
The local grocery had a contest and whoever came in with the most labels won their choice of either a 3 speed bicycle or a radio. At the same time the IGA was having a contest, but their prize was a trip to St. Louis. I knocked on doors, scavenged through trash barrels, begged in front of the store, and otherwise just made a nuisance of myself.
Well, when the contest ended and all the labels were counted, I had like 7,000 and the next kid had 300+. He was very upset because he wanted that bike. His dad owned the local newspaper and I was pretty sure that his dad had way more money then my mother who cleaned their house.
Ah, that bike was a beauty! It was a boys bike because I did not want to wait for them to order in a girls' bike. It was maroon and some chrome and I thought it was the most beautiful thing in the world. And it had the little skinny tires and it was called an "English Racing Bike". I very proudly pushed it all the way home. I pushed it up on to the front porch and there it stayed. Having never had a bicycle, I did not know how to ride. The neighbor girls had bikes. Little bicycles that I could actually step over the bar and set on the seat. Irene agreed to give me "bike riding lessons". Told me it was "easy as pie"! Ever make a pie? It is not that easy.
So this is how this would happen; I would get on the bike and she would hold on to the back fender and keep me in an upright postition. Hell, that sounded like a genius idea to me. The first short little bursts worked well. Now she would let me go when she was sure I had my balance. Brilliant! Off we went and I quickly achieved "lift off", and down the road I went. Course any fool knows what happened next. Dead end road so it was either stop or turn the corner. Unfortuneately we had discussed neither of thos option in advance. I suddenly remembered something about pedaling backwards and so I reversed my direction. Now I do not know if you have ever ridden a bike with that kind of brake, but I am here to tell you, when you suddenly reverse the foot pedals, you stop. That is where that old saying "It can stop on a dime!" came from. Of course when the bike stops so does the balance thing you had going on. This was my first wreck. Irene was very proud that I had gone almost half a block. I was not real sure the other half of that block was left in me.
Of course in due time I learned to do it right. And then my new bike was waiting for me. It was taller then me and I needed to park by the step to climb on and take off. Now I find my whole life has been lived this way. I know how to start and I know how to get on, I just don't know how to end the ride! I quickly learned to ride close to a hill, squeeze the brake and then lean toward the hill with my leg extended. That was all in the first day! Sadly though, the first day was about all there was to that. Remember those little skinny tires I was so proud of the first day? They do not stand up well against the dreaded Goat Head, which is a very sharp sticker. I would pump the tires up and ride until they went flat. The rides got shorter and I moved on to other things, like playing "Annie Over" Irene's house.
I think that was the name of the game. She was on one side of the house and I was on the other. Whoever had the ball would holler "Annie Over" and throw it over the house. You got three tries to get it over and then we had to change sides. If she missed, she got three chances. The most amazing part of the whole thing was that there was a lot of honesty went on without us even knowing. If we missed the ball, we called "miss" and if it did not go over the house we called "do over!" I guess at that place in our lives we had not yet learned how to cheat and lie. Of course we all picked that habit up as we got out in the real world, but something else I have noticed is that as I get older, I am reverting to my honesty days. I do not find it necessary to embellish the truth any more. I think part of that happened when I realized I better tell the truth because I was having a hard time remembering the lies. Or maybe I am just returning to what is known as my "second childhood."
Either way I am enjoying this part of life and as the prize gets closer I remember the good old days with a clarity I never had when I was there.
Wonder what I will think about tomorrow!
Let me see, what else have I been up to? Well, I have been trying to figure out how to write about my childhood in Nickerson, Kansas and I am getting confused. If I just start at the beginning that is a pretty boring story. So I have arrived at the concept of just giving you snippets of my younger days. Like now, the story playing out in my head is the one where I got my first bicycle.
The local grocery had a contest and whoever came in with the most labels won their choice of either a 3 speed bicycle or a radio. At the same time the IGA was having a contest, but their prize was a trip to St. Louis. I knocked on doors, scavenged through trash barrels, begged in front of the store, and otherwise just made a nuisance of myself.
Well, when the contest ended and all the labels were counted, I had like 7,000 and the next kid had 300+. He was very upset because he wanted that bike. His dad owned the local newspaper and I was pretty sure that his dad had way more money then my mother who cleaned their house.
Ah, that bike was a beauty! It was a boys bike because I did not want to wait for them to order in a girls' bike. It was maroon and some chrome and I thought it was the most beautiful thing in the world. And it had the little skinny tires and it was called an "English Racing Bike". I very proudly pushed it all the way home. I pushed it up on to the front porch and there it stayed. Having never had a bicycle, I did not know how to ride. The neighbor girls had bikes. Little bicycles that I could actually step over the bar and set on the seat. Irene agreed to give me "bike riding lessons". Told me it was "easy as pie"! Ever make a pie? It is not that easy.
So this is how this would happen; I would get on the bike and she would hold on to the back fender and keep me in an upright postition. Hell, that sounded like a genius idea to me. The first short little bursts worked well. Now she would let me go when she was sure I had my balance. Brilliant! Off we went and I quickly achieved "lift off", and down the road I went. Course any fool knows what happened next. Dead end road so it was either stop or turn the corner. Unfortuneately we had discussed neither of thos option in advance. I suddenly remembered something about pedaling backwards and so I reversed my direction. Now I do not know if you have ever ridden a bike with that kind of brake, but I am here to tell you, when you suddenly reverse the foot pedals, you stop. That is where that old saying "It can stop on a dime!" came from. Of course when the bike stops so does the balance thing you had going on. This was my first wreck. Irene was very proud that I had gone almost half a block. I was not real sure the other half of that block was left in me.
Of course in due time I learned to do it right. And then my new bike was waiting for me. It was taller then me and I needed to park by the step to climb on and take off. Now I find my whole life has been lived this way. I know how to start and I know how to get on, I just don't know how to end the ride! I quickly learned to ride close to a hill, squeeze the brake and then lean toward the hill with my leg extended. That was all in the first day! Sadly though, the first day was about all there was to that. Remember those little skinny tires I was so proud of the first day? They do not stand up well against the dreaded Goat Head, which is a very sharp sticker. I would pump the tires up and ride until they went flat. The rides got shorter and I moved on to other things, like playing "Annie Over" Irene's house.
I think that was the name of the game. She was on one side of the house and I was on the other. Whoever had the ball would holler "Annie Over" and throw it over the house. You got three tries to get it over and then we had to change sides. If she missed, she got three chances. The most amazing part of the whole thing was that there was a lot of honesty went on without us even knowing. If we missed the ball, we called "miss" and if it did not go over the house we called "do over!" I guess at that place in our lives we had not yet learned how to cheat and lie. Of course we all picked that habit up as we got out in the real world, but something else I have noticed is that as I get older, I am reverting to my honesty days. I do not find it necessary to embellish the truth any more. I think part of that happened when I realized I better tell the truth because I was having a hard time remembering the lies. Or maybe I am just returning to what is known as my "second childhood."
Either way I am enjoying this part of life and as the prize gets closer I remember the good old days with a clarity I never had when I was there.
Wonder what I will think about tomorrow!
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