What kids don't do anymore

The risk benefit is way in favor of past activities in my book (I realize not all agree). These fun, interactive games, and the garage explorations (let's build a _____ or unleash the secrets of _____by opening it up), the tree forting and playing in the creek/forest/haunted house all day just seem so much more....enlivening than going to the mall/watching TV/surfing the net/playing game box. Even if we might have taken an eye out/cut off a finger/gotten a nasty burn or shock!

The parallels to how aviation has become is obvious, too.

Safety first. Safety at any cost. Safety if it means people can't enjoy it any more. Well, safety is a double edged sword.
 
- - - two cousins, one high-up in each of the two full-blossomed horse chestnut trees at the edge of the front lawn. Pick off the "ripened" chestnuts and drop them on passing cars.

- - - oh, those days when the big-wheeled John Deere tractors didn't have security-based, keyed ignitions. Get there before or after the intended users.

- - - two cousins lying in wait for the weekly Tuesday visit by Roger, the owner/driver of the meat peddler route. Said two cousins each with a bucket of water or a length of garden hose, to "welcome" the legs of Roger; then tear-ass down to the pond to jump in the rowboat and get out of range. This became a ritual, and we lived to tell about it. When I was about 40 years old and Roger had abandoned the country route and had opened his own Main Street market years before, I went into the store. I'm sure you don't know who I am; but you'll remember those two renegades who used to weekly soak you down at Shirley Crute's house in Cushing. Ahh; I think I'd better leave now, before you administer appropriate punishment. But you had to be the most patient man I've ever known."

"Hello, Lawreston; nice to see you. You still singing, riding the Harley?"

HR
 
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500

One kid with a baseball bat and baseball, and as many other kids with gloves as you can find. The kid with the bat hits the ball at the crowd, and the kids with the gloves try to catch it. Points are awarded on the hit - a fly is worth one set of points, a line drive another, one hoppers, and on down. Continue until one kid gets 500 points, then he gets to be the batter.

It's a good way to loose a tooth, bust a nose, and get a black eye when everybody is pushing and fighting to be the one to make the catch. But a lot of fun until then.
 
Ride in the bed of a pickup truck on a summer day.
The horror!!! It's a wonder I'm still alive.:yikes:
 
Clean your plate because some yada yada about food and all those children in China.

To which my unspoken question was HTF were we going to get a few bites of boiled okra to China? How did they decide which kid got it? How did they know if he even liked okra, because I sure as hell didn't?






N801BH said:
Hearing those phrases that were preached to us daily;

Your eyes will stay crossed if you do that.

You better be home by the time the street lights come on.

It's all fun and games till someone loses a eye.

Act you age.

Quit pulling that girls hair.

Go find the dog, he got off his chain.

Be home by dinnertime.

and the one that I heard the most................




Wait till your father gets home .:yikes::yikes::yikes::yikes:
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- - - two cousins awaiting Maine Central Railroad to go under Wadsworth Street in Thomaston, Maine. Said cousins hiding in the bushes of the 30' wide "valley" in the earth then climb up on the last car, climb up to the top of the car and ride the train all the way to Rockland(about six miles) and then hitch hike back to Thomaston. Devils, we were; would have been grounded if parents knew what we were doing.

HR
 
Blowing stuff up, down by the trestle over the creek.

Summertime, staying out/up all day, coming home tired-out.

Walking up to the Cabell's Dairy store (they got bought by 7-11) for a Woosies strawberry soda and a candy bar. Drinks were in the big box in front, submerged in water/ice slurry. They were cold - real cold. You'd grab a chunk of the ice to rub on your face, too. We have hot summers in Dallas.

Riding your bike across town to see (aunt / friend / mildly-interesting place).
 
Getting up early on a Saturday morning to check the weather to see if you could fly your COX MODEL AIRPLANE and meet your friends at the Boeing Vertol plant, helipad site to fly them.
 
More things kids don't do anymore:

Cowboy and Indians day at elementary school. For the youngsters here, that means cowboy hats, indian feathers, cowboy boots, moccasins, appropriate period costumes, pistols, knives and bows and arrows. Recess was wild. Try to imagine 200+ kids walking into elementary school today with guns on their hips, taking the principle and office staff hostage then having a major shootout in the playground. At least Principle Thompson (GA Custer) and PE teacher Mr Cannonball (Sitting Bull) never had to watch. They always got gunned down or knifed (usually both) before things heated up too much.

Lifejackets and swimming lessons are for crybaby panzy wimp wannabe's. Parents get you dog paddling reliably with their hand under your belly then let you go to build your confidence and ability. Once you're fairly consistent, you're out in 100 feet of water and they tie a rope around your waist and to the cleat on the boat..the only time they'll pull you up is AFTER you've gone under a couple times. (Make sure you spash a lot when you get in trouble or they'll never hear you go down)

Riding on the wheel cover on a tractor while dragging your fingers over the tire treads as they rotate under you your hand. It's just a really neat feeling it go bumpbumpbump. (Just don't slide off the front or you're going under the wheel for sure, but that's not so bad. The bush hog is what you really need to worry about so Uncle Don says "don't try to catch yourself, just fall off the side if you start to sliding" then up the bumpy path you go)

Along the mountain backroads standing on the bed of the haytruck with your foot inches from a 4ft drop to the 30mph pavement.

Using a barn on a working farm as a playground. (Barn Rules) If the sharp pointy rusted steel farm equipment doesn't get you, the big vertical drops to hard surfaces will try to.

I'm telling ya, if my parents and relatives were raising us today, they'd all be in gitmo for extreme child abuse. We turned out ok. Can't say the same for the so called properly raised kids I knew.


The risk benefit is way in favor of past activities in my book (I realize not all agree). These fun, interactive games, and the garage explorations (let's build a _____ or unleash the secrets of _____by opening it up), the tree forting and playing in the creek/forest/haunted house all day just seem so much more....enlivening than going to the mall/watching TV/surfing the net/playing game box. Even if we might have taken an eye out/cut off a finger/gotten a nasty burn or shock!
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+1
Creativity takes a serious hit when life is handed to a kid in nice little prepackaged organized sets. We were designing and building very experimental airplanes to ride in while the kid next door was sitting on the living room floor completely confused on why a weebles wobble romper room toy wouldn't lay down. BTW; a 2x4 hit against a tree until it starts to crack then split down the middle with an axe makes a pretty reliable wing spar since the weak point has been removed - a small diameter tree trunk is much stronger.
 
fgcason said:
Creativity takes a serious hit when life is handed to a kid in nice little prepackaged organized sets. We were designing and building very experimental airplanes to ride in while the kid next door was sitting on the living room floor completely confused on why a weebles wobble romper room toy wouldn't lay down. BTW; a 2x4 hit against a tree until it starts to crack then split down the middle with an axe makes a pretty reliable wing spar since the weak point has been removed - a small diameter tree trunk is much stronger.
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Frank. You hit the nail dead on. When my kid was just a toddler my wife signed us up for a course on effective parenting. I was never the kind of person who read a book to learn how to raise my kid but being a huge believer in the United States Constitution expecially the part about DOMESTIC TRANQUILITY I went to the series of classes. One exercise we did proves exactly what you said. The instructor asked each parent there to name one memory from their childhood that they remember fondly. The following were some of what was said:

Mine: Buidling little dams across a creek in the woods with my best friend and flying paper airplanes off my poorch roof and seeing how long the could glide.

My wife: Riding her bike to the beach in Cape Cod

Others included: Going to town and shoping wth their mother, Playing sand lot baseball, camping, building tree forts, Buidling snow caves, Playing dolls, helping a father work on a car and the list continued.

The instructor said after we were done " Do you all realize that EVERY single activitiy you listed is a creative activity or an interpersonal activity and NOT ONE was an ORGANIZED activity. It struck me and stuck with me. It was a good lesson.

How about smoking those chocolate and bubble gum cigarettes mmmmm. Or Booby traping your room to keep your sibling out. I could make Rube Goldberg look like an amature.:D
 
SCCutler said:
Blowing stuff up, down by the trestle over the creek.
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When I was a kid it was not uncommon to walk into the pharmacy and grab a bottle of sulfer and potasium nitrate, pay and walk out without a single question. Then grab some charcoal off of the bottom the grill and you have all the makings of gun powder. LOTS OF FUN!

If you could even find those two ingredients in the local pharmacies today would surprise me. But if you did can you imagine the paperwork one would have to go through to buy it? Or at the very least risk a raid by the DHS!!
 
smigaldi said:
When I was a kid it was not uncommon to walk into the pharmacy and grab a bottle of sulfer and potasium nitrate, pay and walk out without a single question. Then grab some charcoal off of the bottom the grill and you have all the makings of gun powder. LOTS OF FUN!

If you could even find those two ingredients in the local pharmacies today would surprise me. But if you did can you imagine the paperwork one would have to go through to buy it? Or at the very least risk a raid by the DHS!!
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Yup I remember that too. We would mix it in a tin can and it would melt the can when lit.
 
dmccormack said:
I rode my bike from Hilside to Nutley NJ to see a girl -- I was 15.

Look on a map and see what the most direct route is....
:yikes:
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So YOU're the reason bikes are prohibited on the Garden State Parkway! :rofl:

(Garden state? Seriously? Maybe a warehouse garden...)
 
flyingcheesehead said:
So YOU're the reason bikes are prohibited on the Garden State Parkway! :rofl:

(Garden state? Seriously? Maybe a warehouse garden...)
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Spoken like someone who has never been out of the Newark area or Route 1 & 9 where all the warehouses are. South of I-195, you'll find plenty of farms. Summers in vineland were great for good food. I never paid more than 50¢ for a head of lettuce in season, 0r 25¢ for a huge eggplant or butternut squash. Sugary sweet corn was 12/$1, and it tasted better than the stuff that's crossed with the industrial corn grown in NE. It is easy to get fruit and tomatoes in season at reasonable prices in southern NJ...and it would keep for more than 2 days before growing mold.
 
Cap'n Jack said:
Spoken like someone who has never been out of the Newark area or Route 1 & 9 where all the warehouses are. South of I-195, you'll find plenty of farms. Summers in vineland were great for good food. I never paid more than 50¢ for a head of lettuce in season, 0r 25¢ for a huge eggplant or butternut squash. Sugary sweet corn was 12/$1, and it tasted better than the stuff that's crossed with the industrial corn grown in NE. It is easy to get fruit and tomatoes in season at reasonable prices in southern NJ...and it would keep for more than 2 days before growing mold.
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There are (were) 3 New Jerseys -- South Jersey, Western Jersey, and the armpit (roughly parallel the GSP and east).

South Jersey is another planet, in some ways (just ask a piney)
 
dmccormack said:
There are (were) 3 New Jerseys -- South Jersey, Western Jersey, and the armpit (roughly parallel the GSP and east).

South Jersey is another planet, in some ways (just ask a piney)
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I thought there were just two...Giants NJ (north of I-195) and Eagles NJ (south of I-195) :)

I tended to place the developed area roughly east of I-287, with exceptions, but I do understand your demarcations.
 
dmccormack said:
There are (were) 3 New Jerseys -- South Jersey, Western Jersey, and the armpit (roughly parallel the GSP and east).
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I grew up in the armpit, which reminds me that as a kid I would look for junk to play with in the landfill across the street.
 
I was completely surprised by my 1st venture into New Jersey, and then out of Newark. I spent a year (every other week) commuting to White House Station and just never knew there was that much green in NJ. Just always pictured it to be like Newark.
 
I grew up in South Jersey....a town built by levitt.
 
A large Zip Tie on a neighbors driveline was always a fun and harmless prank & BB Gun fights.. TP'ing Houses... being towed on a large inner tube behind a truck on the snow or in the mud.. Etc.

As long as we did no destructive things we never got in trouble.
 
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We took empty CO2 cartridges (from our Crossman Air Pistols!), drilled out the hole in the back and filled them with match heads to make our own rockets that we fired off of the back roof of the house at night....in Orange New Jersey! Never saw one of 'em again. Don't know how far they went....but they WENT alright!
14 years old, brother and I bought a .44 caliber black powder pistol kit at Two Guys department store. Assembled and took it down the basement of the rented house we lived in. Stood a piece of plywood up against the cinderblock wall and BOOM!! When the smoke cleared and our ears stopped ringing we could hear voices from outside. It was the neighbors next door saying "What was that??" Ran up to our rooms like nothing happened. There is still a .44 cal lead ball buried in the cinderblock in that basement wall. :rofl:
Oh yeah....brother grew up to become a cop....

A little older....now driving...got old windshield washer pumps from junk cars and hooked them up with output tube run into the carburetor intake of our cars. Filled washer unit with kerosene and motor oil. INSTANT SMOKE SCREEN! Just like James Bond!!
 
I did not concoct this one - but I personally watched it done.

Big balloon (called "weather balloon," I have no idea its provenance). 18" of PVC pipe, RTV sealing it, two wires through it, flashlight bulb at top, lantern battery suspended from bottom, helium in balloon, release at night. Bulb's inside balloon, balloon glows nicely, approximately 8' diameter.

Yes, we were near an airport. No, I was not an adult. Yes, the perp was an adult. No, I am not telling his name.

I thought it was cool.
 
Cap'n Jack said:
I tended to place the developed area roughly east of I-287, with exceptions, but I do understand your demarcations.
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There was no 287 when I was there -- in fact we used to ride our bikes from Hillside to Scotch Plains where there was a park with trees and a pond with fish in it (that was the "rich part"). A stop by the grocery store for a tube of pillsbury dough and we were g2g. :yesnod:

We used to go camping with the Boy Scouts in Watchung reservation (wow -- wilderness!)

Most of the ride was along route 22. I've driven it since and thought, "What were we thinking???!!??"
 
Not as exciting, but Ithink very important - and also something that is no longer done by kids.
The Paper Route.
Lots of us had a newspaper route. I had one in my small town when I was about 12. It was a big thing at that age, not everyone got one. We learned the basics of customer service at an early age. We soon learned that the paper had better arrive on time, be placed in the correct location, could not be wet, or folded, or torn, or missing anything. It was a responsibility, 6 days a week. You couldn't suddenly decide to forget about it one day, to join the other kids if there was a game of ____ going on, you had to tend to your job. You did learn to be efficient and move with speed so you did not miss out on too much however - also useful skills! Once every 2 weeks you became a bookkeeper - you went door to door with your money pouch, stamps, and tried to collect from people. I think it was maybe a dollar a week. Had to keep track of who paid and who didn't, who got papers which days, who was on vacation. Go home and count it all, try to balance your 'books', then remit and get paid.
We valued work for wages back then even at 12. Came away feeling like we'd accomplished something, and some spending money in our pocket. We'd earned it, we could spend it! I think that is lost on 80% of kids that I know today. Even before that we would get an allowance. It was not an excessive amount, and we HAD to do chores to get it. Clean the house, mow the yard, do gardening, painting. We learned a little about how the world works at an early age.
 
Let'sgoflying! said:
We'd earned it, we could spend it! I think that is lost on 80% of kids that I know today. Even before that we would get an allowance. It was not an excessive amount, and we HAD to do chores to get it. Clean the house, mow the yard, do gardening, painting. We learned a little about how the world works at an early age.
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I had one too (hated it, BTW!) But you are 100% right -- it was a valuable training ground.
 

"Late summer was apple time in our neighborhood. Every house seemed to have an apple tree. And no one minded if you picked them for some reason, probably because they were not ideal eating apples. For a few years, all the neighbor kids would have Apple Wars. It was all-out insanity, and quite organized, with rules of combat which escape me now...but I recall there were. Dozens of us, maybe even 50 of us would maraud the streets in one of two groups, collecting apples in bags, bushels, pails, our pockets - tuck in your shirt and you could put a bunch down the neck. These were small green apples...and hard. When the collecting was done we would form front-lines and the onslaught began, with great whoops and hollering.
Suddenly the air was a battle scene from Braveheart.....except instead of arrows or spears...it was these damn apples! For hours we would go through these cycles of collect/gather together on the front/bombard each other with hundreds of apples then repeat. Occasionally one of use would get a good bruising or whack on the noggin but never a serious injury. And no one went after cars, somehow we knew to respect houses/windows. Adults were around but they just watched to make sure we stayed within our limits. We knew not to get carried away because we knew we could never get away with anything...some parent was always within eye/earshot and if one parent pegged us with an infraction, then our own parents would too. (thats the old code of parenting). The Apple Wars of.....about 1972. We would arrive home at dinner time, out of breath, sweaty, exhausted, green fingers but after dinner we were out there for more!"


Ah yes, battlefield wars of youth. It’s all fun and games till someone gets his eye put out then its damn hilarious!
 
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shywon said:
Leaving the house in the morning and hearing "Be back for dinner" (I won't let my son out of my sight)
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This one is interesting...and I say this as a non-parent, but all the statistics show that child abductions are no more than they ever were in the past, percentage wise.

Yet parents are so inundated with 24/7 news that if a child is abducted 3000 miles away they all freak and say "see that is why we do what we do".

Again...my only reason for saying this is that I do think it is a shame the invisible tethers we have on kids today.
 
tdager said:
This one is interesting...and I say this as a non-parent, but all the statistics show that child abductions are no more than they ever were in the past, percentage wise.

Yet parents are so inundated with 24/7 news that if a child is abducted 3000 miles away they all freak and say "see that is why we do what we do".

Again...my only reason for saying this is that I do think it is a shame the invisible tethers we have on kids today.
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Yep. As sad as the whole Adam Walsh abduction/murder was, that event spawned generations of needlessly paranoid parents, and as a result, children.


Trapper John
 
I'm not sure that parents these days are any different as a whole. I grew up in the 60s and knew kids whose parents would make them call home every time they got somewhere and who wouldn't let them do things that I was allowed to do. Plus, many of the things I did without my parents' knowledge and I'm pretty sure after reading a lot of these accounts that other kids did too. Somehow I think this is more looking at the past through rose colored glasses.
 
I was a Dismantler. Dad was a mechanic with a lot of tools hanging around, and I had an insatiable curiosity. Bad combo.
Starting when I was old enough to use my hands I would try to explore every article or device in my environment, not always to a successful end. (it hasn't left me. You will recall me taking apart a HD about 2yrs ago!). I just wanted to know how things worked! What did the clock DO, in order to....keep time, make that ticking, ring that bell? Can't see inside it through those little holes or the seams....BUT there are 4 little screws here.....hmmmmmm.
In 20 minutes there I would be on the living room floor with the guts of a once-working clock scattered about and me poking the innards to see how they made it. From there, I 'advanced' to tape recorders, household appliances, televisions, household electrical, phones, bicycles, gasoline engines, cars! After the first few scoldings I became more cautious upon what I practiced my new hobby, any 'dead' device was saved for Dave so he could do an autopsy on it. Or, I acquired my own victims.
At one point it became a little more productive, I learned some things about disassembly and reassembly that actually improved the device's condition....like cleaning and lubricating. Somewhere around 13 we all got bikes. Most were content to ride them around and enjoy the speed, the freedom. I did too, but when I got home I wanted to tear it down! And I did. Several bikes, multiple times. I would lay one out on the floor in its 453 pieces after cleaning everything. Sprockets, ball bearings, brake calipers. All clean, and organized in little piles. Often a repair or replacement was necessary. Then I would reassemble it with fresh oil and grease, get it all running smooth and true, and optimally adjusted. Once I had the frame painted with baked enamel. Dad quietly helped me, and tolerated what I did with his tools. Never gave him enough credit for letting me have my head in the garage. Later it was an ancient Honda 150 4-stroke twin. Everyone else had dirt bikes or minibikes and somehow I found this corroded, non-running streetbike. Complete strip down and cleaning, lots of repairs even some cylinder work and I amazed my mother (and myself) that I got it running! It was a great thrill to do this, and I think helped build a kid in a certain way.....another thing you are hard pressed to see kids do these days.
 
Early computers! We used to find data at Brookhaven labs (schedules for some instruments) from an open connection at the high school for the AP program. We also found what was going to be printed in NewsDay (a Long Island newspaper) the next day because they had a BBS (bulletin board service) you could access with a 110 or 300 baud modem. We never changed data (never even tried), we would just look around. We looked for evidence that professional sports were scripted (like professional wrestling), but never found any- the scores/ play-by-play were never posted until after the game.
 
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