Kite Fishing

Some kids around the Nuke neighborhood have acquired a go kart. There was some debate as to real ownership of said go kart, due to the fact that it was snatched curb side on bulk trash pick-up day. It had a flat tire and a broken chain. Broken chain, flat tire, bulk trash day; it’s a no-brainer, right? Wrong. After the kids got the chain and tire fixed and were riding it around the neighborhood, some teary-eyed pre-teen began chasing them down the street yelling “THAT’S MY GO KART!” He explained that his friend had “borrowed” the go kart, that it had “broke down” and that the friend was coming back to get it after dinner, “I swear”, but when he got there, it was gone. “Honest”. The Parents helped the group come to the right conclusion and the go kart was returned to teary-eyed pre-teen. They were out a grand total of .94 cents; the cost of the new link for the chain. The group later got together and formed a multi-national conglomerate and purchased the go kart from teary-eyed pre-teen. They each now have an equal voting shares in the go kart. All except for one of the Irish-Ten(or)’s. He sold his share after an unfortunate mishap involving a steep hill, a stuck accelerator, a rapidly approaching creek, a mud puddle and an un-expected power slide. I think tissues were involved at the conclusion. Now TorgoTeen has 2 voting shares. We’ll make sure he doesn’t abuse his new found power. This incident got me thinking of kids and the ingenuity that they posses.

Growing up in El Paso, our neighborhood had it’s share of ingenious kids as well. Everyone had the old stand-by playing cards attached with clothes pins in the spokes of their bike tires. I got in trouble once because Dad could have drawn to a straight flush, had I not placed the 6 of clubs in the front tire of my Schwinn. Some kids up the street discovered that you could get 6 kids on a mini-bike if you laid a 2×4 across the motorcycle seat and had a layman’s grasp of symmetry. They tried it parallel off the back of the seat first and kept popping wheelies. Finally one of them got smart and said “How about this way?” and laid it perpendicular. They blew it when 3 got on the seat, 2 got on the left side of the 2×4 and only 1 got on the right. They made lots of left hand turns until they reconfigured and placed 2 on the seat, 2 on the right and 2 on the left. Finally balanced and semi-in control, they had great fun all afternoon until they tried to squeeze through those 2 parked cars. That’s the thing about homemade motorcycle appendages; they’re eventually going to run into 2 parked cars.

The Guerrero family moved in 2 doors down from us in 1972 or 1973. The two boys were named Eduardo and Guillermo, their sister was named Rose. Eduardo preferred Ed, and Guillermo was called Mal (sounds like “Ow” with an M at the beginning). It was a nickname given to him by his Mother. The literal translation of “Mal” into English is “Bad”. I’m sure she had her reasons; one of them being that yelling “Mal” across the neighborhood would sound better than yelling ”No Bueno”. Our first encounter with them was memorable. Some kids from the neighborhood had gathered in front of our house to decide on what to do that day when someone noticed something odd. “Look at that.”, said Mark. “What?” asked my brother. “THAT!” yelled Mark. Steve glanced up the street where Mark was pointing to see the new kids (Ed and Mal) standing in the street in front of their house flying a kite. “Yeah, so they’re flying a kite, so what?”, Steve said. “No, dumb-ass; look what they’re flying it WITH.” said Mark. We all looked then. We could now see what Mark was talking about. The Guerrero brothers were using a Zebco fishing rod to fly their kite. 20 pound test line, I think. We all rushed up the street to check it out. We all watched and took turns flying the kite, which was a small dot in the sky somewhere over Oklahoma, we think. That’s the thing about flying a kite with a fishing rod; you can have an endless amount of string fishing line and reeling it back in is a breeze. Well, for the first 10 minutes or so, then you have to switch off so no one gets hand cramps. The rest of the summer was spent flying kites with fishing poles. We learned plenty more from the Guerrero boys through the years. I watched Mal build an engine for a Jeep CJ-5 that was so powerful that he could pop wheelies in it. No lie. Ed taught us how to saw the ends off of old ski poles to make a perfect bottle rocket launcher. Light ‘em, drop ‘em in, aim it, boom. THAT one got us in trouble. The manager at the Village Inn wasn’t too happy when a bottle rocket came zooming through his front door. That shot was taken from a moving flat bed truck (whole ‘nother story) doing 40 mph on the OTHER side of the street. About 135 yards, I’d say. It was a 6 lane main artery in El Paso called Mesa street. Hey, I said we were good shots, I never said we were smart. Got off with a warning. I think my brother always took me on those little jaunts because I was younger and I might help with the sympathy vote if they ever got into trouble. It worked that day.

Launch It:

This entry was posted on Friday, September 19th, 2008 at 11:59 am and is filed under Tales From The Lazy Boy. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

tom

Wow, does that bring back some great memories. We had a great little neighborhood where I grew up, and a ton of kids all around the same age. Our adventures are still etched in the ancient lore of Carmichael, California.

We had our share of accidents involving skateboards, rope and a bicycle, as well as those involving bottle rockets, water balloons, bb guns and even ninja throwing stars made of sheet copper.

Unfortunately most of my more practical ingenuity involved black powder and 1 inch ball bearings, and the occasional grass fire in the large vacant field behind our houses.

Good times.

(NukeDad) Yeah, and our Mom’s never made us wear a helmet. Heck, they didn’t even have helmets then.

toms last blog post..A Last Look Back

Sep 19, 2008 @ 12:29 pm

Melisa

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I wish I lived in your neighborhood. You people are FUN! Unfortunately I don’t have too many neighbors with kids who are around the ages of my kids, and I don’t have too many neighbors that even come outside much. Must be the cold Chicago winters…(what’s the excuse for the summer???)

You’re really lucky that your kids are going to have fabulous neighbor memories. Maybe they’ll blog about it someday!

(NukeDad) Don’t I know it! The Nukeboy’s aren’t in the mix because they have football practice three nights a week, but I’ll bet they “buy in” once the season is over.

Melisas last blog post..You Can Take The Girl Out of High School…

Sep 19, 2008 @ 1:01 pm

Mike

I loved my neighborhood as a kid. Just like yours we had a bunch of us guys who had dirt clog fights (stiches), bike jump ramps (torn toenails), water ballon fights (trash man quit picking up at our house), and numerous bb gun target practice shots on things and small animals (they deserved it). Good times…

(NukeDad) I can still tell you where and how I got all of my scars.

Sep 19, 2008 @ 1:34 pm

Weaselmomma

It is amazing that you are still alive to tell the stories. The bottle rocket thing had Daqrwin Award written all over it, and the kite fishing rod had “It’s all fun and games until somebody loses an eye”. Great stories and I’m sure they are great memories too.

(NukeDad) Darwin Awards? We weren’t THAT bad. Besides, we had REALLY big band-aids.

Weaselmommas last blog post..Coffee Talk

Sep 19, 2008 @ 1:47 pm

Tara R.

All I could think about was banana seat and sissy bars on a low rider bike. Kite fishing… hmmm… I may need to hit the beach this weekend and see what we can ‘catch.’ Thanks for the idea.

(NukeDad) You just described my bike. It wasn’t a low rider, though.

Tara R.s last blog post..To sleep, perchance to dream

Sep 19, 2008 @ 3:26 pm

Karen

Me and the siblings mostly played in the backyard, often with sticks, lol.

(NukeDad) Did you play “I’m a Drummer” or “You’re a Pinata”?

Karens last blog post..NukeDad is a Psychic

Sep 20, 2008 @ 5:25 am

Hmmm, we tried to make bows and arrows out of them, generally with very little success. I think there was some “sword” fighting. I have a scar on my arm from the time I tried to invent a three legged race with the stick being the third leg and totally wiped out on the street. Can’t remember much else but sticks were cool.

(NukeDad) They are cool. Combine them with stones and they may break my bones.

Sep 20, 2008 @ 5:52 pm

Okay, so I just found out today that Weaselmomma and I live a mere ten minutes from each other. So although it’s gonna take a little bit of work, I think it’s quite possible that she and I can get our families together and have fun neighborhood times like you do.

I think we’ll meet in a neighborhood somewhere near the halfway point between our homes. That oughta work.

In fact, anyone else wanna join us?

(NukeDad) How cool is that? If you guys can’t find some blog fodder from that….

Melisas last blog post..Anatomy of a Fight

Sep 21, 2008 @ 3:17 pm

matt

Man, this post takes me back. One of the things I dislike about raising a daughter in LA is that everyone is so spread out. If you want to go see your friends pack a cooler and some snacks and pile in the car, because we’re going for a road trip. Maybe someday she’ll get to experience the type of neighborhood we had. Being able to ride your bike to your friends house after dinner, playing outside until the street lights came on, etc.

I cant believe we never thought of a ski pole. We used sawed off wiffle ball bats…definitely not as accurate!

(NukeDad) I’m thankful that the NukeKids have almost as much mischief opportunity as I did.