Thinking Back

I was contemplating all the falls, scrapes, and mishaps in my life when I was a young boy in Farmingdale.

There was the time my we (mostly neighborhood kids) took a plank about 10 feet long, put some little red wagon wheels on it and rode it down the hill in front of my house. I might have been 5 or 6 years old and I'm sure it wasn't my idea.

Anyway, my brother and sister were on it and everything went fine until it veered toward the curb... we had no way to steer it and, of course, no brakes so we rammed into the curb and everyone was thrown off and landed in the dirt and tar of the road. Of course we mostly sustained abrasions ("road rash") but no one broke any bones.

My brother, sister, and I ended up getting scrubbed in the family bathtub together and I am sure many of the other kids also ended up in similar situations.

Or the time my brother decided I should fight the youngest boy of the Joyce kids who lived down the block. We ended up fighting in the Joyce's driveway with his brothers and my brother egging us on. My mother broke that up, dragging me by the ear back home. I remember I was winning when Mom showed up.

Or the time my brother pulled me out of the maple tree in front of our house down to the ground.

Or the time he threw a rock at me from behind and hit me in the back of the head. Head wounds bleed profusely, don't they? No stitches, though, that would have meant a trip to the doctor and those cost money.

I only bring these up because I have a new vehicle now. I wanted something to take to the Y where I exercise three days a week. It's not far, about a mile, so I bought a used bicycle. They say you never forget how to ride one but I am very wobbly on it. It does get me there and I don't need a warm-up period anymore now since the ride is sufficient.

I can't help feeling that I am overdue for a mishap that results in more abrasions.