Taking Advantage of a Brother

I thought that this deserved it's own entry since this was a classic, very classic moment in my childhood, one that is clear as day and I think there might be a lesson learned in there somewhere.

The summer months and the times off from school would be spent doing whatever we could think of and when there was nothing else to do and it wasn't raining, we would be skating.  The norm was to skate down the hill on "53rd."  John and I were the ones who were "chicken" and who usually played it safe most of the time, this meant that when going down that hill (or skating in the street at all) we would be the ones that stayed as close to the parked cars as possible so we didn't get hit by the cars that were moving in the middle of the road.  The jokes would come from Ody and Michael, well actually in hindsight, they actually weren't jokes and they were more of a warning.  The concern was that we were riding so close to the parked cars trying to be safe that we were going to end up hitting the parked cars or the side mirrors and get hurt that way.  John and I thought that we were the masters of our own domain and there was no way that was going to happen, we were just being safe!

Until one day (you were waiting for that weren't you?) John was going down 53rd and towards the middle of the hill he clipped the side mirror and lost his balance.  He wasn't going that fast if we take a look at it now, but when we're that young, going down 53rd was as if we were going 75 MPH!  So as John was going 75 MPH and him losing control by hitting the side mirror, he fell to the street and rolled and rolled ... and rolled ... and rolled all the way to the bottom of the hill.  He laid there in the street with blood and cuts from falling down not moving.  We quickly came down and saw if he was alright and he said that he couldn't move, not from breaking any bones or anything to do with paralysis ... but from the pain of all the cuts he had from falling and rolling down the street.  We found a way to transport him back up the hill and to the house, I think we put him on his board and rolling him back since he couldn't move.

He stayed in his bed and started to watch Baywatch ... or Knight Rider as we were standing around his bed looking at him moaning in pain.  It was as if we were visiting someone in the hospital as we were there "visiting" John ... his brother was in the proper place by standing right next to his left side.  We talked to him and tried to make him laugh, but there was no laughter since he was in pain and couldn't move much, but we did talk to him and tried to cheer him up.

Michael being the caring brother that he is, asked John how he was doing and John would answer back with a moan and then telling him that he was in pain and couldn't move.  Michael again with this voice of concern asked him if he was alright and asked him if he could move even just a little bit but John said that he couldn't because of all the pain that he was in.  Michael is a very sharing and caring brother, so as what any other brother would do in this situation, he would share something with John, something so close and so intimate.  As John was on the left edge of the bed and Michael by his side, Michael turned around with his back towards John and silently let some of that flatulence (fart) come out right by John's head!  There was an immediate reaction from John as he smelled it right away, but he couldn't move out of the way of the fart that was consuming his entire body!  John struggled and struggled as we stood there laughing at his efforts, but he couldn't get away, the mixture of the pain and the smell was just too much for him, so he just laid there ... trying to blow the air away from his face.  That's all he could do ... as he cursed at Michael for being too sharing that day.  

So is there a lesson to be learned from this?  Don't play it too safe, because if you do, you'll end up hitting the side mirror and roll all the way down the hill where you'll get cuts all over your body and can't move, then your brother will take advantage and fart in your face as all you can do it take it all in.

+ mon

The Muppet Family

In an earlier post, I had said that when we were younger and living on 90th street, it was as if we were the Muppet Babies.  We had no limits to the things we did and we did everything we could possibly do (legally).  While I was with my cousins the other weekend I was reminded of some of those things and I'll share them with you guys ... for some reason I think this entry is going to be like this email forward that was going around a while ago called "Children of the 80's."  Well I do hope you enjoy my memories as much as I did.

This is my Rifle, This is my Gun ...
My cousin Ody was my trainer, or sensai.  He would teach me things that I never knew existed or didn't know about.  I'll never forgot the first firearm that he introduced me to, it was an old school gun but nonetheless it got the job done right.  It was family built and I was amazed at the craftsmanship that went into it.  The design was simple, yet very effective ... the only thing limitation was that it was only produced during the holiday seasons.  I'm not even sure if anyone else knew about it except our family, or it might have been limited to just him and I.  Well this is a good place to give out that family creation where you take the wrapping paper tube that is used to the Christmas presents, make sure that all the wrapping paper is gone, so you're only left with the cardboard tube.  Then you take a rubber band and have it going over one of the openings and stretching it a little tight, then taping it down onto the tube.  Taping it as much as you, duck tape would be ideal.  You take some paper and cut it into a strip of about an inch and a half or two inches at most.  Start rolling it and once it's all rolled, fold it right down the middle, it should look like the letter "V" or ^" depending on how you're holding it.  Secure the tube and using the projectile that you just made put the folder on the rubber band and pull as far back as you can.  Aim it and fire!  

Please be warned that this does cause welts if you hit someone close enough!  Also as a supplemental firearm, you can use the toiletpaper tube for a pistol like feel.  

Taste Test
We were quite adventurous as little ones, even our cousins Michael and John.  If you watch National Geographic or the Discovery Channel you'll see shows where they tell you not to eat certain plants because they are poisonous, well we didn't have those channels back then.

There was a bush growing from the old house on the corner, the house that looked haunted and had all sort of plants and ivy growing around it.  Within that bush there were little flowers, they were similar to lilies but smaller.  My cousins would take this flower and pick them, then pull out the thing in the middle (I can't remember the part of the flower ... stemen???) and lick the juice at the end of it.  Of course they got me to do this, and only me.  My other cousins didn't want any part of this, maybe they had cable TV.  I liked it, it tasted sweet almost like syrup!  We picked that bush clean where there were no flowers left, and this lasted for a while as we waited for the flowers to bloom again ... I'm just glad that this wasn't one of those poison plants.

I'm Going to Tell
This was the biggest threat to a kid growing up.  When you hear those words coming from your friends, your family, you immediately clam up and start to make deals with them.  You start to bargain your way out of the situation as best you can.  A list of toys sometimes comes up in your head that you can use a a bargaining tool to get yourself out of this without it reaching the level that it might.  The events leading up to this could be anything, it could as simple as you trying to save your skateboard and almost getting hit by a car, or accidently saying a curse word.  The events were never what was relevant, the only thing that did matter was you doing everything you could from them telling your parents!

This was used against me a lot ... with one such incident where I was trying to be the next Christian Hosoi and my skateboard went rolling into the street.  Of course, I ran out in traffic to get my board and in the process almost got hit by a car.  Returning to my safe haven of cousins on the other side of the street, instead of receiving comfort, I was bombarded with words of how dumb I was for doing that and how they were going to tell my parents that I almost got hit by a car.  Now I had wished that I had been hit by the car ... if they ever found out it would be the belt ... or the slipper!  My cousins used this against me for the next few months where if they needed something or wanted something, all they had to do was bring up my near death incident and how they were going to spill the beans.  This would end up in me going to the deli and buying them candy, the grenade drinks, or letting them barrow my video games!  

These words ... "I'm going to tell" were so powerful when we were young, I wonder if they have the same effect now?  I'll test this out on someone and we'll see how it works ... or not.

Walking on Water
This usually goes on during the summer or warmer months when we weren't in school anymore.  Behind our apartment building was the garage area where the tenants would park their cars and being it was during the work hours, it was usually empty.  Now when there was some sort of rain the creation of a small little lakelike pond was formed right in the center where the drain was.  This would stay there for a few days and slowly flow into the drain.

During these times we took the opportunity to do the things we normally couldn't do since there wasn't any close sources of water where we could "play."

This little watering hole became our lake where it was the best thing in the world!  We would try to skip stones across, even though it was so short that the stones would skip past the water and end up in the fence, or in the worst case scenario it would hit one of the remaining cars in the lot which would make us all scatter like roaches when you turn on the lights.  

We threw everything at that little pond and never once did it throw it back, it just sank in the two or three inches of water and collected at the bottom.  We were in the zone so much that we used our vehicles and turned them into hovercrafts!  The single bike or two bikes that we had, had to be shared with all of us and we took turns as we rode it across the water in amazement as each one of us would cross.  There would be the occassional mishap where someone didn't make it all the way across and the bike would stop somewhere near the middle, the dreaded deepest part.  Here they would have to tip toe and get their shoes wet as they made their way to the other side.  

There were times when we even road our skateboards through the water!  This was the hard part as you need to push off with the skateboard ... many times we would find ourselves stranded.  Our cousins coming to our rescue by means of a broom or mop stick to help reach us and pull us to safety.  

Once the water subsided, we went back and were in shock and utter amazement to see all the items that had been left in the water which we'd thrown in just a few days before.   

This wasn't the cleanest of water either, it's not the crisp clear water that you see in the movies, but similar to that and worst than the water that we find at Rockaway beach.  Cloudy, murky and full of dirt ... and also full of imagination.

The Original Spiderman
You would find the real spidermen on those apartments on 90th street.  Along the hallways you could see their skills in action if you were lucky enough.

Being that the halls were about the width of the door, not a wide door but a regular door, we were able to take our arms and legs and spread them to push ourselves up the wall and hold ourselves there for whatever reason.  We did this a lot when there was nothing else to do and some of us were even able to make it all the way to the top of the hallway ceiling.

One such time was when I was coming back from "playing" and was going to open my apartment door, but decided to knock on the door so my parents would open it but there was going to be a twist!  I was going to Spiderman up the wall and up to the ceiling and hold myself there so when I knock on the door they wouldn't know where it was coming from.  

The plan was working out perfectly, I knocked and quickly climbed that wall to the ceiling and kept quiet.  At first it was my dad who opened the door and didn't see anyone, quickly closing the door.  I wait a few seconds for him to walk back to the living room then knock again while still on ceiling, just holding myself with one arm and two legs against the wall.  Here he came again and this time I hear him muttering under his breath as he closed the door.  Clinging to the walls and laughing in silence I do it one more time, but I'm going to jump down when they open the door and don't see anyone.  My mother opens the door this time and as she was about to close it I jump and land right in front of her!  I started laughing, she didn't.  She jumped up as she got scared ... reached down and grabbed her slipper.  Pulled me into the house and closed the door behind me and hit me with that slipper until she was satisfied.  I can still remember my dad in the background asking if that was me knocking on the door and my mom explaining that was on the ceiling of the hallway ... then he got upset and went to the room.  Here cam the belt and I ran around the house trying to escape, but there was no Spiderman friendly walls in apartment 2C.  

Just a simple ability of being able to climb walls, turned into a beating that one will never forget.  

So many more stories, but I'll keep it at these for now, hopefully there was a lesson to be learned somewhere ... 

+ mon

Fortunate Childhood

In the subway this morning I was thinking about what I could write about and was wondering if anything interesting would happen during that train ride, well nothing except me sleeping happened, but the only thoughts that did come to mind were when I was a kid and the childhood memories from 90th street - and there are a lot of memories!

So it brings me to this entry and looking back at how I grew up.  I didn't get that suburban childhood growing up in a house with trees all around and a culdasack where the kids from the neighborhood would play, even though when I was younger I would see that on TV and think that that's how I wish my neighborhood was.  But seeing it for what it really was now, my childhood was better than that of which I saw on the shows on TV, I grew up in Elmhurst, to be more specific 90th street.

This is the block where dreams happened and where you could do whatever you wanted, there was no limit ... well actually there was a limit, it's called parents.  

We did whatever we wanted, we ran things on 90th street!  Well maybe we didn't actually run things, but you know what I mean, it was our playground and no matter what we did, no matter what injury we had, no matter how in trouble we got, next day was a new day to start over again.

One of the main activities was the baseball games in the driveway to the garage, and if you were good enough to hit one off of the block and across the street, you had to deal with the lady in all black that was dubbed "get outta here" as that was the only thing we ever heard her say.  Those baseball days often ended because a ball would be fouled onto the room of the neighboring building, where we had no access.  But if that foul ball would just go over the 15 foot fence separating the two, we found a way to cilmb that beast of a fence and get our balls back.  One memory that really sticks out for me was when that fence was newly build to keep us out and keep us from climbing to get our foul balls, and it was my "turn" to get the ball ... as I was climbing back to the playing field, I found myself on the very top of that fence.  My apartment was in the back of our building so my parents bedroom window was right there and I heard it opening and my dads voice calling me.  If he had caught me on top of that fence, it would have been over for me!  So I did what any kid my age would do ... jump from that high in a panic!  I landed and stood there as my dad stuck his head out the window asking me a question, I stood there as if I had been standing there for a while and not just have jumped off a fence.  My feet were burning and I had to wait for him to go back in the window for me to take my shoes off and care for my feet.  

That's just one story from that baseball alley ... another quick one was when we played baseball with a basketball and I was the pitcher.  My cousin Michael swung and hit the basketball right back towards me, I didn't have time to react and it hit me right in my nose where I started crying as he rounded the "bases" with a homerun.

Another daily activity was skateboarding, ahhh yes, we skated way back before it was popular as it is now.  The first trick that I learned was the bunny hop which was simply jumping a little on your board as you hit a small bump from the sidewalk blocks.  Too many memories with this as well, but the one that sticks out and I'm sure we'll all remember had to do with my cousin Jay's board.  He had a free style board, similar to the ones that Rodney Mullen would use.  As we were skating outside, a group of other skaters came by and started talking to us.  They were saying how nice our boards where and we were flattered, but some of us were a bit cautious.  I remember one of them asking to see one of boards, it was the banana shaped yellow board (I can't remember who had that), and they said no.  They asked if they could see someone else's board and they said no.  Then they got to Jay and Jay being the oldest one of us said yes and let them see his board.  All I can remember is one of them saying ... "man nice board" and this was right before they ran to the other block and put Jay's board on top of the hood of a parked car.  There they proceeded to take the wheels off and steal part of his board!  We stood there not knowing what to do since these skaters were older than we were.  Needless to say, Jay was without a board that day and we had learned a valuable lesson in trust, even amongst fellow skaters.  

There are just too many memories to write about, I'll save those for another entry.  But growing up, being surrounded by family all the time was great.  Having cousins there everyday to play with, or just sit in front of the apartment doing nothing with was something that can't be replaced by suburban living.  Sure we didn't live in the best part of town, but we made it that way.  It was our block and we took full advantage of the fact that we were so close, physically and in friendship and family.  

This extended to the adults in our families too, where we had family gatherings together, but they didn't see each other as much as us kids saw each other.  Maybe that's why I didn't do too well in school?  I would rush home, and either finish my homework as fast as possible so I could go out and "play" or I would wait to do my homework later that night so I could get outside and figure out what the cousins would be doing today ... would it be throwing bottle rockets from John's basement, would it be sharing one bike that we would take turns riding around the block, would it be to play on the milk crate with the bottom cut out that Michael had nailed to the telephone pole, would it be to go to someone's house and play with our GI Joes or play bingo (yes bingo!) ... it was endless.  

My childhood is one that I remember and will always remember, even when I drive by the old block, new old memories come back.  It also paved the way to keeping the bond with us cousins tight, we don't do the same things anymore, but when we do get together, we sometimes reminisce and we always new memories.  It's good to be surrounded by family, good to have them around, and I miss those days where we could just be carefree and did whatever we want without having to worry about the consequences until they actually were right in our face.  

I sometimes wonder if everyone has a 90th street growing up?  

+ mon