Monday, April 10, 2017

Childhood Trauma #617

Original Photograph from Archives - 1962


  1. So, did those three little thugs set a booby trap????

    1. They grew up and went into politics...

  2. The equivalent in my neighborhood was the no-name little van that offered shaved ice in paper cones doused with colored sugar water (red = cherry, etc.). We lived to tell the tale. On a hot day all the kids would flock - the simple pleasures of childhood and summer!

  3. Little Johnny stuck his hands in his pockets looking on. “Told you it would work, harmlessly,” whispered Bernice. She should too, Bernice should know, being the eldest and her father was a merchant marine, she had the kind of magical backing that young boy dreams are made up on, between itching their peeling sunburn and bug bites on hot sleepless summer nights. Bernice got the best presents from her father when he was home, musty olive green canvas bag with a fortune of assorted treasures to behold; a battered compass, grenade pin, silk map scarf, partly rusted Zippo lighter with a snarling tigers face on its case, some blossoms of lead, colorful shells of sea and of spent brass. No one had anything like this at Show and Tell, ever.
    It’s not every 9 yr old girl who receives a well used KBar from straight from the sultry jungles of Nam. Much to her southern mother’s shock and horror the first thing Bernice did was saw off her long pigtail proclaiming to the world her “women’s lib” involvement. Little Johnny still wasn’t clear about “women’s lib” thing, and neither was the 75% of the male population of his hometown, yet. Bernice’s tall well tanned father with raised eyebrows muttered a string of non repeatable dark cusswords. Hind sight is 20-20, he thought, he shouldn’t have taught her certain “life skills” to be mastered at such a young age. Maybe, he should have waited with that simple physics lesson of daisy chaining inertia, angles with the law of gravity. But Bernice was a fast learner with an insatiable hunger for more.
    It looked like to Little Johnny this summer of 1964 would be a hot one, in more ways than one. When that hatch pops its gonna rain creamsicles far and wide Bernice had promised as he stretched the live firehose away from the hydrant carefully across the gutter up to the sidewalk. The old worn hatch on the horizontal ice cream truck back door gave a soft groan slowly bulging outwards as the weight shifted its load.

  4. I hope Joe's okay :)

  5. I have to admit that the title along with the photo made me laugh out loud!

  6. " For the love of God... NOOOOOOOO !!! "