I live in
the past.
It's peaceful there...
 |
| The group. Husby is in the back row. With the whiskers. Donny is directly in front of him. |
Reunions are so much fun.
Spending hours - sometimes days - remembering the fun
times.
Oh, and sometimes commiserating together over bad times,
too. But even those, shared, become good memories.
Husby and I spent the last weekend immersed in his reminiscences.
He and twenty or so of his schoolmates, as part of a grand twelve-class
reunion, assembled for a wonderful couple of days.
Husby was
speaking to his high school best friend, Donny MacLean. The conversation went
something like this:
Husby: Remember our trips to the dump?
Donny: The TVs!!!
Maybe
I should explain . . .
It
was the sixties.
Two
fourteen-year-old boys were looking for something to do.
They
decided it was a good day to ride their bikes over to the dump. Just to see
what amazing things they could discover.
In
case you’re wondering, this was a favourite pastime. Forty years BE. (Before
electronics.) And before the town dump was regulated. Or controlled.
And
before the invention of germs.
Or
good judgement.
Or
danger.
Husby
was carrying his twenty-two rifle. (All of the above.)
Because.
The
two of them scrambled around for a while.
Then
discovered a heap of old TVs dumped and forgotten by who-knows-who.
To
me, such a thing would have suggested storage units.
Or
display cabinets.
But
these two boys were a little more knowledgeable.
And knew
about vacuum tubes.
And,
more specifically, what would happen when something disturbed or upset said
tubes.
Gleefully,
they lined up the TVs.
Then
they backed away to a safe distance. Roughly a quarter-mile.
Carefully,
the first shooter took aim.
Pulled
the trigger.
And
the two of them stared at the spot where the TV used to be.
The
bullet had struck the screen (actually the front of the vacuum tube) and the
entire thing had exploded.
I do
mean exploded.
A sheen
of shiny dust that used to be a glass object, and a few splinters of wood littered
the area.
The
two boys stared.
Then
grinned.
And
took aim at another TV . . .
The two
grown men laughed together over this memory.
And
their survival.
Ah, the things we did when we were young. Kids today would never understand.
ReplyDeleteI have many of those kids of memories. Mine didn't include firearms, though.
Yeah. Mine, neither. . .
DeleteOh those reunions and memories are so much fun. I loved your husband's fun childhood story. Hugs for this fun one~
ReplyDeleteSo glad you enjoyed it, LeAnn! I'm just glad he survived! My story could have turned out SOOOO different!
DeleteI always get a kick out of hearing what the husbands did when they were young. It's always crazy and often dangerous stuff---but ohhhhh so funny!
ReplyDeleteI always think of the line from 'Duck Tales - The Movie'. "Yeah, I wouldn't mind doing it again now that I know that you can live through it!"
DeleteThose crazy husbands! Mine has many stories like this too. I often wonder how he survived!
ReplyDeleteDetails, Lana! Details!
DeleteOh yes. It really is a wonder that so many of them reach adulthood. And I might have done a few less than safe things too.
ReplyDeleteNot me . . . ahem . . .
DeleteExploding TVs!! That must have been so much fun for two young boys, although I am glad they didn't get hurt and equally glad my brother never knew about this pastime. Him and his BB gun...nuff said.
ReplyDeleteI remember dump scavenging, brother and I went for years and played around on the piles of stuff for hours and hours. I remember one year he found a plum jam tin still half full and sat down to share it with our dog.
Oh, yikes! I'm strictly a fingertip explorer . . . And nothing gets past this mouth! :)
DeleteYes, the fearlessness of youth ... and the good memories they provide!
ReplyDeleteOnce you know you'll live through it! :)
DeleteNow this is the kind of childhood I had! I grew up with 4 brothers and I was the only girl. I can shoot better than my husband. You've reminded me of another story! I'm off to find some old TV's!
ReplyDelete