Growing up I had a pet iguana named Urkel. Yes, he was named after Family Matter's nerd Steve Urkel. He lived on our window sill and squash and pooped and peed and stanked up the place.
There came a time when Urkel became angry and irritated. He would hiss at us and didn't want us to hold him anymore. One night he jumped down from the window sill and wandered through the house. I eventually found him under my brother's bed and I had to climb under it to retrieve him. He was pissed.
We eventually gave him away to a family that was more iguana friendly.
Showing posts with label childhood memory. Show all posts
Showing posts with label childhood memory. Show all posts
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Monday, September 1, 2008
That one time I was in jail...
When I was about five years old I was at a softball game with my mom and brother who was nine. The town sheriff was there and we must have either been giving our mom or him a hard time, because when he suggested he take us to jail, mom agreed.
He drove us to the county jail where he locked my brother and I in a cell. There was nothing but a cot, a sink and a toilet. He told us we better not mess with the Mexican in the cell next to us or he'd break out and kill us. Well, that really scared the shit out of 5-year-old me. The sheriff's voice came over the PA saying he was leaving now.
That's about the time I started to cry. My brother tried hard to make me stop instilled with fear that I might wake up the Mexican. I can't remember exactly how long we were held captive, but it seemed like a long time. It was probably only 5 minutes. The sheriff came back and took us to our mom. I probably behaved the rest of the night.
He drove us to the county jail where he locked my brother and I in a cell. There was nothing but a cot, a sink and a toilet. He told us we better not mess with the Mexican in the cell next to us or he'd break out and kill us. Well, that really scared the shit out of 5-year-old me. The sheriff's voice came over the PA saying he was leaving now.
That's about the time I started to cry. My brother tried hard to make me stop instilled with fear that I might wake up the Mexican. I can't remember exactly how long we were held captive, but it seemed like a long time. It was probably only 5 minutes. The sheriff came back and took us to our mom. I probably behaved the rest of the night.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
I had the strangest dream last night
I love the weekends because most of the time I get to sleep as long as I need and I make it to my final REM cycle and have good dreams. After having a couple of beers at the Longbranch with some friends I came home to a nice slumber and weird dream.
I was at a concert at my elementary school playground. My friend Jefe, who I just left at Longbranch, was there. My boss was there, and a couple other people I can't remember. Well, Jefe starts making out with my boss. This makes me somewhat annoyed so I'm lying on this blanket disgruntled, when I see two anorexic twins being followed by another woman. The woman turns towards the twins and pulls a gun on them.
I run into the building and tell someone in a uniform that this woman has pulled a gun outside. The person turns out to be a mailman or something like that so I run around until I find someone with a "security" shirt. By the time I get back outside there is some shooting going on, so I hide in a corner. I can still see Jefe and my boss making out amongst the commotion.
A guy with a gun is being chased around the corner and he turns and sees me and aims his gun. If he shot at me, I dodge all his bullets with my cunning aerobics and roll moves.
As I'm getting back up, I see someone trying to hide that I hadn't seen "in person" since the 6th grade. We'll call her Laura M. She was mine and everyone elses' elementary school crush. The first girl to actually need to wear a bra. And all the discussion in the boy's bathroom would be about how we saw her bra strap. And we would 'ooh' and 'aww' over stories about her cleavage.
She's an adult now in the dream. And I'm bound to save her and win my make-out session. So, I grab her by the hand and tell her we need to run and hide to get away from this fiasco. I knew of a good hiding/ make-out spot on the other side of the school. But as we get to that side, in the parking lot there are several Methodist Church vans there to pick up people, I'm assuming who survived the massacre. Well, this girl was the preacher's daughter, so we climbed into the van.
One of my friend's dad was driving and we got into a wreck with a small car. No one was hurt, but somehow we were instantly transported to that friend's house. Sweet! Now I would have lots of make-out time with Laura. But as I'm walking to my friend's little brother's room, she's in there with him.
So I was just sitting there in the living room of my friend's house. A couple other unrecognizable people were there. And just when something else is about to happen. My alarm clock radio, that I forgot to turn off before I went to sleep, starts blaring at 6:30. I hit snooze and went back to sleep, but I left the dream forever.
Oh yeah, this photo has absolutely nothing to do with this story.
I was at a concert at my elementary school playground. My friend Jefe, who I just left at Longbranch, was there. My boss was there, and a couple other people I can't remember. Well, Jefe starts making out with my boss. This makes me somewhat annoyed so I'm lying on this blanket disgruntled, when I see two anorexic twins being followed by another woman. The woman turns towards the twins and pulls a gun on them.
I run into the building and tell someone in a uniform that this woman has pulled a gun outside. The person turns out to be a mailman or something like that so I run around until I find someone with a "security" shirt. By the time I get back outside there is some shooting going on, so I hide in a corner. I can still see Jefe and my boss making out amongst the commotion.
A guy with a gun is being chased around the corner and he turns and sees me and aims his gun. If he shot at me, I dodge all his bullets with my cunning aerobics and roll moves.
As I'm getting back up, I see someone trying to hide that I hadn't seen "in person" since the 6th grade. We'll call her Laura M. She was mine and everyone elses' elementary school crush. The first girl to actually need to wear a bra. And all the discussion in the boy's bathroom would be about how we saw her bra strap. And we would 'ooh' and 'aww' over stories about her cleavage.
She's an adult now in the dream. And I'm bound to save her and win my make-out session. So, I grab her by the hand and tell her we need to run and hide to get away from this fiasco. I knew of a good hiding/ make-out spot on the other side of the school. But as we get to that side, in the parking lot there are several Methodist Church vans there to pick up people, I'm assuming who survived the massacre. Well, this girl was the preacher's daughter, so we climbed into the van.
One of my friend's dad was driving and we got into a wreck with a small car. No one was hurt, but somehow we were instantly transported to that friend's house. Sweet! Now I would have lots of make-out time with Laura. But as I'm walking to my friend's little brother's room, she's in there with him.
So I was just sitting there in the living room of my friend's house. A couple other unrecognizable people were there. And just when something else is about to happen. My alarm clock radio, that I forgot to turn off before I went to sleep, starts blaring at 6:30. I hit snooze and went back to sleep, but I left the dream forever.
Oh yeah, this photo has absolutely nothing to do with this story.
Friday, August 29, 2008
Water tower
There used to be a huge water tower by my school when I was a kid. Some years, high school students would jump the fence and climb to the top of the tower and spray paint how much their class ruled.
The water tower was torn down around the time I was in Jr. High. I remember being disappointed that we'd never be able to climb the eyesore and paint "2000 Rules" on the side.
The water tower was torn down around the time I was in Jr. High. I remember being disappointed that we'd never be able to climb the eyesore and paint "2000 Rules" on the side.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Baahhhh
I never raised goats as a kid, but I did raise pigs. I once won the county show for best gilt. I always hated the goats though. It was gross watching people walk them, because in order to get them to move you had to poke them in the butt.
I'm glad I only did this until 8th grade. Since my gilt had won we were going to breed her and try to sell her babies as show pigs. Luckily, she didn't get pregnant, so we ate her instead.
I'm glad I only did this until 8th grade. Since my gilt had won we were going to breed her and try to sell her babies as show pigs. Luckily, she didn't get pregnant, so we ate her instead.
Monday, August 18, 2008
My favorite tree
I had a favorite tree when I was a kid. We lived next to the Catholic Church parsonage and there were three giant, fruitless mulberry trees in the parsonage yard. The house was mostly vacant until a priest or some nuns would stay for a short time.
The tree closest to our house was the easiest to climb. Before I was big enough to pull myself into the tree, my brother and his friends would climb as high as they could and get up in the skinny branches. My mom used to babysit a brother and sister about my brother's age. The boys name, I think, was Bucky Puckett. One day Bucky climbed up so high in the tree he was afraid to make a descent. I think he started crying, but I can't remember I was only 4 or so. I'll have to ask my brother.
When I became older, I would climb the tree and read books. The branch system at the top of the trunk made into three seats for someone my size. I started a club in the tree with my friends, Eric and Erick. We would spraypaint on the branches who we had crushes on. We also tied a rope into the tree to make it easier to climb. I nailed a shoebox into a branch where I kept sticks that I had sharpened in case we were ever attacked and we needed sharp sticks.
When I became older, I spent less time in the tree. By the time I was in high school, I probably never set foot in the tree again. My freshman or sophomore year of high school, I was driving home for lunch. We were in the middle of a wind storm and the gusts were getting up pretty high. You really couldn't see anything because the dust clouded everything and in the distance looked like a giant wall. When I got home I saw that the tree had been ripped up by it's roots and tossed on its side.
I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I instantly felt I was in a dream-like state. Someone had died and I was at the disbelief level of coping. Maybe, there was so much dust in my eyes I really wasn't seeing what I was seeing. I ran into the safety of my house and peaked out the screen door to make sure it was true. And it was. Of the three giant, fruitless mulberries in a row, my favorite one, had been murdered. The other two were still holding on for dear life.
The landscape and the view to the east of my parent's house has never been the same.
The tree closest to our house was the easiest to climb. Before I was big enough to pull myself into the tree, my brother and his friends would climb as high as they could and get up in the skinny branches. My mom used to babysit a brother and sister about my brother's age. The boys name, I think, was Bucky Puckett. One day Bucky climbed up so high in the tree he was afraid to make a descent. I think he started crying, but I can't remember I was only 4 or so. I'll have to ask my brother.
When I became older, I would climb the tree and read books. The branch system at the top of the trunk made into three seats for someone my size. I started a club in the tree with my friends, Eric and Erick. We would spraypaint on the branches who we had crushes on. We also tied a rope into the tree to make it easier to climb. I nailed a shoebox into a branch where I kept sticks that I had sharpened in case we were ever attacked and we needed sharp sticks.
When I became older, I spent less time in the tree. By the time I was in high school, I probably never set foot in the tree again. My freshman or sophomore year of high school, I was driving home for lunch. We were in the middle of a wind storm and the gusts were getting up pretty high. You really couldn't see anything because the dust clouded everything and in the distance looked like a giant wall. When I got home I saw that the tree had been ripped up by it's roots and tossed on its side.
I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I instantly felt I was in a dream-like state. Someone had died and I was at the disbelief level of coping. Maybe, there was so much dust in my eyes I really wasn't seeing what I was seeing. I ran into the safety of my house and peaked out the screen door to make sure it was true. And it was. Of the three giant, fruitless mulberries in a row, my favorite one, had been murdered. The other two were still holding on for dear life.
The landscape and the view to the east of my parent's house has never been the same.
Friday, August 15, 2008
Things I miss
1. Summer
2. that feeling you get when you think you're in love.
3. my great-grandmother
4. Bill Wooley
5. that feeling where I had all the time in the world.
6. my ability to recall
7. long days
8. making people laugh
9. leading
10. youth
2. that feeling you get when you think you're in love.
3. my great-grandmother
4. Bill Wooley
5. that feeling where I had all the time in the world.
6. my ability to recall
7. long days
8. making people laugh
9. leading
10. youth
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Snakes
Growing up I think I had about four different pet snakes: A king snake, green snake, glass snake and a rock snake.
The coolest snake was the rock snake. He was only about 6 inches long and as narrow as a worm. I could hold my hand out and he would criss-cross between my fingers.
The coolest snake was the rock snake. He was only about 6 inches long and as narrow as a worm. I could hold my hand out and he would criss-cross between my fingers.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Mountain Streams
From the time I was about 12 until 18 my uncle would take me to Colorado every summer to go fly fishing. We would stand around in streams that looked much like this. In order to fly fish in a stream you need to wear waders, which are rubber boots that go all the way up your legs. You can stand in a stream with the water up to your mid thigh as long as the current isn't too strong.
The first time I went fishing I was walking along the side looking for a good place to step in. The water was so clear, I could see the bottom from everywhere. I found what appeared to be a slow, shallow spot and decided to step in. The refraction of light made it appear that my foot was closer to the bottom than it actually was. My legs kepting going deeper and deeper until I hit an undercurrent and had my legs swept out from under me. I grabbed hold of some weeds on the bank as the water, now up to my waist, was filling my waders.
I can't remember if someone helped drag me out or I pulled myself out. When I was done, my legs were completely soaked and freezing. I continued fishing the rest of the day with soaked socks and jeans in my waders.
The first time I went fishing I was walking along the side looking for a good place to step in. The water was so clear, I could see the bottom from everywhere. I found what appeared to be a slow, shallow spot and decided to step in. The refraction of light made it appear that my foot was closer to the bottom than it actually was. My legs kepting going deeper and deeper until I hit an undercurrent and had my legs swept out from under me. I grabbed hold of some weeds on the bank as the water, now up to my waist, was filling my waders.
I can't remember if someone helped drag me out or I pulled myself out. When I was done, my legs were completely soaked and freezing. I continued fishing the rest of the day with soaked socks and jeans in my waders.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Take a Hike
hike - Morro das Aranhas - caminhada de curto percurso - Restinga - Floripa
Originally uploaded by Adrenailha
So a group of us kids went up to someone's land north of town to camp and hike. Let me see if I can recall everyone's name: Bryan, Matt, Ryan, Patrick, Trevor, Edward, James, John Arthur, Rusty and Justin. I'm not sure if all these people went on this particular trip, but they were part of our group at one time or another.
Poor Rusty could not pronounce his Rs. He would pronounce a Y in its place. Unfortunately for him his last name was Reed, so he was known as Yusty Yeed. One night we were lying in a tent and he said started complaining that his back hurt. "I'm lying on yock," he kept yelling. It took us 10 minutes to figure out what he was talking about.
Back to the hiking story...we were supposed to pack our backpacks so they were something like 20% of our own body weight. We had to pack 3 meals, a sleeping bag, first aid kits, extra socks, etc. After hiking for several miles, we noticed that Matt was way ahead of everyone else. While everyone else was complaining about the weight on their backs and dragging, Matt was walking like he was only carrying himself.
Finally, Wayne, the scoutmaster asked everyone to stop and he was going to search Matt's backpack. While everyone else was carrying at least 10 lbs of supplies, Matt had a backpack with two sheets in it. I can't recall exactly, but I'm pretty sure Wayne made all of us take one item out of our backpacks to put into Matt's.
When we got back to our camp the next day, we found out that the only things that Matt had brought on this trip in his backpack were the two sheets, a machete and a pair of roller blades. He took the roller blades out for the hike.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Eagles
I've had two memorables eagles in my life. One of them was when I was about 12 or 13 years old. I was lying 2 on hole 6 at Paducah, a par 5 500 yarder. About 150 to 100 yards out from the green there is a valley and at the end of that valley is a creek filled with cattails before the 30 degree incline the last 100 yards to the green. I was about 100 out, so I probably hit a nine iron or a pitching wedge. I couldn't see the green, but I found my ball in the hole when I arrived.
A few years later when I was in high school, I was practicing with my friend Eric and our golf coach. I was lying 1 about 150 out on hole 3, a par 4 about 320 yards. I remember I hit a seven iron. As soon as the ball went into the air I could tell it was going to be close. From 150 out I could see the ball fall into the hole.
A few years later when I was in high school, I was practicing with my friend Eric and our golf coach. I was lying 1 about 150 out on hole 3, a par 4 about 320 yards. I remember I hit a seven iron. As soon as the ball went into the air I could tell it was going to be close. From 150 out I could see the ball fall into the hole.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Fishing
I can't remember when my dad taught me how to fish.
Note to Self: Ask your dad about the first time you went fishing.
Note to Self: Ask your dad about the first time you went fishing.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Clown Hair
One of my ex-girlfriends. OK, probably the only person I could ever consider as a "girlfriend" was scared to death of clowns. This photo would have probably made her cry.
Back when I had long, curly hair she used to call it "clown hair." I had this thing where I'd be looking off in some other direction and I'd open my eyes really wide and slowly turn my head toward her and look into her eyes. It would creep her out. Said it reminded her of a clown.
I've actually done this a couple times to myself in the mirror. It is actually pretty scary.
Back when I had long, curly hair she used to call it "clown hair." I had this thing where I'd be looking off in some other direction and I'd open my eyes really wide and slowly turn my head toward her and look into her eyes. It would creep her out. Said it reminded her of a clown.
I've actually done this a couple times to myself in the mirror. It is actually pretty scary.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Black Dog
I once had a black lab for about two weeks in my childhood. Our house was the last house on a Farm-to-Market road so people would dump their unwanted pets a few miles down the road and then they would end up on our porch.
This one particular lab was pretty smart and he already knew how to shake hands and a whole slew of other tricks. I'd play with the dog and wrestle in the front yard with him every day. He started crapping in the yard and my dad said if I didn't keep the yard clean he would haul the dog off.
I started off being pretty good at cleaning up all the crap. Then I slacked off quite a bit. One time when I came home the dog was no longer there waiting for me at the door. I don't remember if my dad hauled him away or he just ran away.
This image was also in today's Everyone's Uploads. Wowza.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Plastic Playground
I remember the playground at my elementary school. It was made completely out of steel and if you fell from the top of the slide onto the ground it would have probably killed you. The whole playground was a hodgepodge of slides, teeter-totters, a monkey bars, etc. placed there most likely sometime in the 70s. We even had a merry-go-round. Do those things still exist? Scotty Guggisberg broke his arm on the merry-go-round in kindergarten.
About the time I was in Jr. High they removed all the old playground equipment and replaced it with one of these pre-assembled, multi-colored, plastic, "safe" playgrounds. They covered what was once grass with a bunch of gravel. The new playground basically sucked.
There are two distinct memories I have of the playground. One of them took place in third grade during bus recess, which was the recess I had to go to after school and wait until my mom got off work (at the school) to take me home. We were playing football and I had tackled this one kid and he began pouting about grabbing people by the neck when being tackled. I'm pretty sure I said "Quit being a baby. If you don't like it, bring it." Then he said "No, you bring it," and he pushed me. I wasn't going to take any of his crap, so I put him in a headlock. The teacher blew her whistle to signal that bus recess was over and I dropped him, crying on the ground. This kid had "little man" syndrome and deserved every ass kicking that came his way.
My other memory, I think was in second grade when a kid named Joseph and I had this can and we were playing catch with it by tossing it over a fence. We couldn't afford balls apparently. It was somewhat difficult to get the can over the fence so we put some rocks into it to make it heavier. Word got around to some stupid kid who told our teacher that we were throwing a can with rocks inside. Well, throwing rocks on the playground was against the rules. We kinda got into trouble and our punishment was that we had to carry a rock around with us for a whole week. If we lost that rock we were going to get licks. Even as a little kid, that sounded like the stupidest punishment ever. I ended up losing my rock but was able to replace it with an similar rock before my teacher found out.
About the time I was in Jr. High they removed all the old playground equipment and replaced it with one of these pre-assembled, multi-colored, plastic, "safe" playgrounds. They covered what was once grass with a bunch of gravel. The new playground basically sucked.
There are two distinct memories I have of the playground. One of them took place in third grade during bus recess, which was the recess I had to go to after school and wait until my mom got off work (at the school) to take me home. We were playing football and I had tackled this one kid and he began pouting about grabbing people by the neck when being tackled. I'm pretty sure I said "Quit being a baby. If you don't like it, bring it." Then he said "No, you bring it," and he pushed me. I wasn't going to take any of his crap, so I put him in a headlock. The teacher blew her whistle to signal that bus recess was over and I dropped him, crying on the ground. This kid had "little man" syndrome and deserved every ass kicking that came his way.
My other memory, I think was in second grade when a kid named Joseph and I had this can and we were playing catch with it by tossing it over a fence. We couldn't afford balls apparently. It was somewhat difficult to get the can over the fence so we put some rocks into it to make it heavier. Word got around to some stupid kid who told our teacher that we were throwing a can with rocks inside. Well, throwing rocks on the playground was against the rules. We kinda got into trouble and our punishment was that we had to carry a rock around with us for a whole week. If we lost that rock we were going to get licks. Even as a little kid, that sounded like the stupidest punishment ever. I ended up losing my rock but was able to replace it with an similar rock before my teacher found out.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)