Illinois Valley News

There is not enough room in this issue, or any other, to list all the dangerous, weird and simply stupid actions taken by this writer when he was a young child. However, I remember them, and have decided to inflict a handful on you. Maybe they“ll help prevent a disaster in your family.

And thank you for not saying, “What about all the dumb “things“ you“ve done after growing up““ See, I know how some of you think.

• When I was around 10 years of age, I had accumulated a collection of Revell plastic aircraft models. After a time, my interest in keeping them flagged, so with my cousin, Cliff, I hit upon a super idea.

  We strung a wire from the roof of my parents“ home to the backyard. Then we took a container of gasoline from the power lawnmower I used (that“s another story) onto the roof, plus a sharp knife, and some model glue. And a book of matches.

  The idea (mine) was simple. And stupid. And extremely hazardous, but we were too dumb to realize. We would pry apart the fuselage of my Lockheed Starfighter; reglue it around the wire; then douse the plane with gasoline and set it on fire. It would look really neat as it went down the wire in flames.

  Fortunately the plan failed. The gas kept causing the glue to lose its holding power before we could set it on fire, so the craft wouldn“t stay assembled. We eventually gave up and went back into the house to wash our hands, which smelled strongly of gas. When my Dad asked me what we had been doing on the roof, I told him, “Playing with an airplane.“ He bought it.

Looks like I“m not going to have enough room here to provide detail on some of my other youthful idiocies, so here are a couple of outlines:

• In the sixth-grade, after returning from a hike with the Raven Patrol of Boy Scout Troop 899, I had a can of pork-and-beans left over. Decided to heat the can in the backyard. Built a fire, put the can in the fire. Did not make any holes in the can. Fortunately, I was far enough away when the can exploded to avoid being burned by beans.
• About a year later, after being warned to get the brakes fixed on my English three-speed, I was roaring down a hill and discovered that I had absolutely no brakes. None. Nada. Zero. Zilch. And I was moving fast. My lightning-fast decision was to steer onto a lawn at the bottom of the hill and fall sideways. Didn“t work that way. Instead, I ran directly into a cinder block wall. Fortunately, I only sprained one ankle and had some bruises here and there. The bike was a loss.

Fortunately, that“s all the room I have this issue. Wish me well, please, as I still do dumb “things.“

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