Bow & Arrow

[recumbentbob]

Bow and Arrow

Around age 10 my dad got me one of those little bad(bleep) 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 tire 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. 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 in my head. 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, a 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 sh*t! 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 WT(bleep) 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 BLEEP!

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 bleeping 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 worm or two.

The daylight turned purple. Let me repeat this... THE BLEEPING DAYLIGHT TURNED PURPLE!

There was a big sweetgum tree out by the gate going into the pasture. Notice I said "was". That som-in-a-gun 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 YOU'RE BRINGIN' EM IN TOO CLOSE!! CEASE FIRE. DAMNIT 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 185 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. and Dad screaming "Bring him back to life so I 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. 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.


Author Unknown

[AlabamaNomadRider]

What a story. That is funny. Reminds me of some of the stunts I pulled when I was young.

[recumbentbob]

Originally Posted by AlabamaNomadRider

What a story. That is funny. Reminds me of some of the stunts I pulled when I was young.

I know what you mean, when I read it I laughed so hard I had tears

[paul]

You know, it's just shameful the way parents coddle their little darlings these days. :(" title="" border="0"/> And all the politically correct crap is too much to bear. Gone are the good old days when potasium nitrate, sulpher and charcoal were readily available and easily purchased at the corner pharmacy....So what if we nearly burned down the garage, ::) I'm sure the inhalation of all that smoke and sulphur fumes were quite medicinal. After all, it was all in the name of science. We had to experiment to get our homemade gunpowder recipie just right.

And when did it become impossible to purchase pure glyceryn and nitric acid from the same local pharmacy? ??? Nitro is not really so hard to make and a damn site better entertainment than homemade gunpowder. And what's up with these limp wristed fireworks they are selling today? Why, I can't even find a .22 calibur pellet gun for sale anymore. :-[ No self respecting 10 year old would ever even consider playing army with any thing less! I mean, how else are you going to know for sure if your buddy is "out" unless he's bleeding somewhere. And the beatings we got when something did go wrong. Well, wasn't that just "character building?" I don't even begin to understand how kids today can have fun. No wonder they grow up to be violent. They're not allowed any natural outlet for such propensities.

[Loafer]

The only fear I ever had was my dad. I could deal with everything else.

[ringadingh]

That was funny.

[nomadtom69]

Try having a catapult fight (Just watched a movie on tv they were cool when they attacked the castle) with next door buddy and one of the dirt clods we were using happened to have a rock in the middle it was the only one that actually hit its target ME. When I went in the house with blood running down my face mom did not think it was cool and my buds dad and my dad wore our butts out. Its funny but a inch gash in your head really bleeds alot and Moms get worried.

[sas]

Man that was funny! I had to stop reading several times to wipe the tears away. I'm still grinning like an idiot!

[Cajunrider]

Originally Posted by loafer

The only fear I ever had was my dad. I could deal with everything else.

I feared my Dad but had worse fears. The nuns and brothers that taught me from 1st grade to graduation. The nuns pulled my ears, slapped me around, hit the ends of my fingers with a wooden ruler, etc. The brothers used a sawed off fiber glass fishing rod, a 1x4 paddle with a nice smooth handle wittled on it and you name it to wear our butts out when we didn't pay attention or talked out of turn. And if they called home and told my Mom, then the fear of my Dad would kick in. He would wear me out for getting worn out at school. But, we all turned out OK. I can't think of any in my graduating class that's in jail.

[Loafer]

Originally Posted by Cajunrider

I feared my Dad but had worse fears. The nuns and brothers that taught me from 1st grade to graduation. The nuns pulled my ears, slapped me around, hit the ends of my fingers with a wooden ruler, etc. The brothers used a sawed off fiber glass fishing rod, a 1x4 paddle with a nice smooth handle wittled on it and you name it to wear our butts out when we didn't pay attention or talked out of turn. And if they called home and told my Mom, then the fear of my Dad would kick in. He would wear me out for getting worn out at school. But, we all turned out OK. I can't think of any in my graduating class that's in jail.

I was sent to a catholic school, on my first day, I got the ruler 10 minutes into first grade. When she turned around to write something. I went out the door, down the hall, out the door, down the road all the way home. To find my mother had left work to greet me and bring me back. ( damned telephone ) This went on for several days. Finally my father put an end to it. I never liked school, nuns always made an example of me so others wouldn't give them a hard time. Its amazing there wasn't any nuns killed during that time period.
My brother (5 years older than me) used to practice beating people up daily, with me as his personal punching bag. My mother used the broom handle when I didn't see things her way. My sister (6 years older than me) seemed no know where to strike, so I was disabled, and then onslaught with her shoes would start.

The only thing I ever feared, was my father. No one or anything has ever brought the level of fear to the height of my father.

[Sin City Stan]

You realize that if Homeland Security happens to see your post your a$$ is on the no fly list before you finish reading this post.

[wompus]

Goodgodamighty.... That was funny as can be!
Sounded wayyyy too much like the crap I did as a kid!!

[Loafer]

When I go to the airport, I bring my father with me. They don't even pay attention to me. :)