Post by Kt29 on Apr 17, 2009 9:03:07 GMT -5
Life as a child
Unknown child's name... but he was in Mississippi
Around age 10 my dad got me one of those little badass compound bow
beginner kits.
Of course, the first month I went around our land sticking arrows in
anything that could get stuck by an arrow. Did you know that a 1955 40 horse Farmall tractor will take 6 rounds before it goes down? Tough sumbich.
That got boring, so being the 10 yr. old Dukes of Hazard fan that I was, I
quickly advanced to taking strips of cut up T-shirt doused in chainsaw gas tied around the end and was sending flaming arrows all over
the place.
Keep n mind this was 99.999% humidity swampland so
there really wasn't any fire danger.
Ill put it this way- a set of post hole diggers and a 3 ft.. hole
and you had yourself a well.
One summer afternoon, I was shooting flaming arrows into a large rotten oak stump in our backyard.
I looked over under the carport and see a shiny brand new can of starting
fluid (ether). The light bulb went off. I grabbed the can and set it on
the stump. I thought that it would probably just spray out in a
disappointing manner...lets face it to a 10 yr. old mouth-breather like
myself ether, really doesn't "sound" flammable. So, I went back into the
house and got a 1 pound can of pyrodex (black powder for muzzle loader rifles).
At this point, I set the can of ether on the stump and opened up the can of black powder.
My intentions were to sprinkle a little bit around the ether can but it all
sorta dumped out on me. No biggie... 1 lb. pyrodex and 16 oz. ether
should make a loud pop, kinda like a firecracker you know?
You know what? Screw that I'm going back in the house for the other can. Yes, I got a second can of pyrodex and dumped it too.
Now we're cookin'. I stepped back about 15 ft. and lit the 2 stroke arrow. I drew the nock to my cheek and took aim.
As I released I heard a clunk as the arrow launched from my bow. In a slow
motion time frame, I turned to see my dad getting out of the truck... OH
crap he just got home from work. So help me God it took 10 minutes for
that arrow to go from my bow to the can. My dad was walking towards me in slow motion with a WTF look in his eyes. I turned back towards my target just in
time to see the arrow pierce the starting fluid can right at the bottom.
Right through the main pile of pyrodex and into the can. Oh. crap.
When the shock wave hit it knocked me off my feet. I don't know if it was the actual compression wave that threw me back or just
reflex jerk back from 235 fricking decibels of sound.
I caught a half a millisecond glimpse of the violence during the initial explosion and I will tell you there was dust, grass, and bugs all hovering 1 ft. above the ground as far as I could see.
It was like a little low to the ground layer of dust fog full of
grasshoppers, spiders, and a crawfish or two. The daylight turned purple.
Let me repeat this...THE FRICKING DAYLIGHT TURNED PURPLE. There was a big
sweetgum tree out by the gate going into the pasture. Notice I said "was". That son-of-a-bitch got up and ran off.
So here I am, on the ground blown completely out of my shoes with my
thundercats T-Shirt shredded, my dad is on the other side of the carport
having what I can only assume is a Vietnam flashback:
ECHO BRAVO CHARLIE YOUR BRINGIN' EM IN TOO CLOSE!! CEASE FIRE. d**nIT CEASE FIRE!!!!!
His hat has blown off and is 30 ft. behind him in the driveway.
All windows on the north side of the house are blown out and
there is a slow rolling mushroom cloud about 2000 ft over our backyard.
There is a Honda 185s 3 wheeler parked on the other side of the yard and the fenders are drooped down and are now touching the tires.
I wish I knew what I said to my dad at this moment. I don't know- I know I said something. I couldn't hear.
I couldn't hear inside my own head. I don't think he heard me either...
not that it would really matter.
I don't remember much from this point on. I said something, felt a sharp
pain, and then woke up later.
I felt a sharp pain, blacked out, woke later.... repeat this process for an
hour or so and you get the idea.
I remember at one point my mom had to give me CPR so dad could beat me some more.
Bring him back to life so dad can kill him again. Thanks Mom.
One thing is for sure... I never had to mow around that stump again Mom had been bitching about that thing for years and dad never
did anything about it.
I stepped up to the plate and handled business.
Dad sold his muzzle loader a week or so later. And I still have some sort
of bone growth abnormality either from the blast or the beating. Or both.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, get your kids into archery.
It's good discipline and will teach them skills they can use later on in
life.
Unknown child's name... but he was in Mississippi
Around age 10 my dad got me one of those little badass compound bow
beginner kits.
Of course, the first month I went around our land sticking arrows in
anything that could get stuck by an arrow. Did you know that a 1955 40 horse Farmall tractor will take 6 rounds before it goes down? Tough sumbich.
That got boring, so being the 10 yr. old Dukes of Hazard fan that I was, I
quickly advanced to taking strips of cut up T-shirt doused in chainsaw gas tied around the end and was sending flaming arrows all over
the place.
Keep n mind this was 99.999% humidity swampland so
there really wasn't any fire danger.
Ill put it this way- a set of post hole diggers and a 3 ft.. hole
and you had yourself a well.
One summer afternoon, I was shooting flaming arrows into a large rotten oak stump in our backyard.
I looked over under the carport and see a shiny brand new can of starting
fluid (ether). The light bulb went off. I grabbed the can and set it on
the stump. I thought that it would probably just spray out in a
disappointing manner...lets face it to a 10 yr. old mouth-breather like
myself ether, really doesn't "sound" flammable. So, I went back into the
house and got a 1 pound can of pyrodex (black powder for muzzle loader rifles).
At this point, I set the can of ether on the stump and opened up the can of black powder.
My intentions were to sprinkle a little bit around the ether can but it all
sorta dumped out on me. No biggie... 1 lb. pyrodex and 16 oz. ether
should make a loud pop, kinda like a firecracker you know?
You know what? Screw that I'm going back in the house for the other can. Yes, I got a second can of pyrodex and dumped it too.
Now we're cookin'. I stepped back about 15 ft. and lit the 2 stroke arrow. I drew the nock to my cheek and took aim.
As I released I heard a clunk as the arrow launched from my bow. In a slow
motion time frame, I turned to see my dad getting out of the truck... OH
crap he just got home from work. So help me God it took 10 minutes for
that arrow to go from my bow to the can. My dad was walking towards me in slow motion with a WTF look in his eyes. I turned back towards my target just in
time to see the arrow pierce the starting fluid can right at the bottom.
Right through the main pile of pyrodex and into the can. Oh. crap.
When the shock wave hit it knocked me off my feet. I don't know if it was the actual compression wave that threw me back or just
reflex jerk back from 235 fricking decibels of sound.
I caught a half a millisecond glimpse of the violence during the initial explosion and I will tell you there was dust, grass, and bugs all hovering 1 ft. above the ground as far as I could see.
It was like a little low to the ground layer of dust fog full of
grasshoppers, spiders, and a crawfish or two. The daylight turned purple.
Let me repeat this...THE FRICKING DAYLIGHT TURNED PURPLE. There was a big
sweetgum tree out by the gate going into the pasture. Notice I said "was". That son-of-a-bitch got up and ran off.
So here I am, on the ground blown completely out of my shoes with my
thundercats T-Shirt shredded, my dad is on the other side of the carport
having what I can only assume is a Vietnam flashback:
ECHO BRAVO CHARLIE YOUR BRINGIN' EM IN TOO CLOSE!! CEASE FIRE. d**nIT CEASE FIRE!!!!!
His hat has blown off and is 30 ft. behind him in the driveway.
All windows on the north side of the house are blown out and
there is a slow rolling mushroom cloud about 2000 ft over our backyard.
There is a Honda 185s 3 wheeler parked on the other side of the yard and the fenders are drooped down and are now touching the tires.
I wish I knew what I said to my dad at this moment. I don't know- I know I said something. I couldn't hear.
I couldn't hear inside my own head. I don't think he heard me either...
not that it would really matter.
I don't remember much from this point on. I said something, felt a sharp
pain, and then woke up later.
I felt a sharp pain, blacked out, woke later.... repeat this process for an
hour or so and you get the idea.
I remember at one point my mom had to give me CPR so dad could beat me some more.
Bring him back to life so dad can kill him again. Thanks Mom.
One thing is for sure... I never had to mow around that stump again Mom had been bitching about that thing for years and dad never
did anything about it.
I stepped up to the plate and handled business.
Dad sold his muzzle loader a week or so later. And I still have some sort
of bone growth abnormality either from the blast or the beating. Or both.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, get your kids into archery.
It's good discipline and will teach them skills they can use later on in
life.
