Monday, November 29, 2010
Kids and Snowballs
Today’s Sunday comic strip, Crankshaft, reminded me of childhood pranks regarding snowballs. I have two memories etched in my mind; neither will get me to Celestial glory, perhaps the proverbial snowballs chance in hell but not Celestial glory.
When my brother and I were fairly young we lived on Long Island and took advantage, with reckless abandon, when ever it snowed. We’d hide behind a row of shrubs waiting for the sound of passing cars; quickly tossing a couple of snowballs at the appropriate moment and then took advantage of natural hiding places provided; it was great fun.
One time we popped up from behind the hedge row and let fly our salvo only to recognize the car we’d randomly targeted turned out to be a police car, the officer’s window rolled down as he patrolled. The moment to run quickly passed; our legs refused to work. The officer put us in the back of his car, drove to our house and handed us over to the warden. Justice has an interesting way of churning out reward; I served twenty years as a police officer.
The other snowball story had to do with a snow fort/wall we’d built in our front yard. Vehicles slowed to turn onto the short street which connected our neighborhood with the adjoining one. It was perfect, a bottle necked canyon like in an old time Western movie; we had them coming or going.
We spotted a fellow slowing down on the slick pavement, his windows down trying to see past a set of windshield wipers that couldn’t keep up with the falling snow. We let a few snowballs fly and hit the mark; his brake lights flashed as he skidded to a halt. Most folks would have chalked it off as “just one of those things” and kept on driving; but when they hit the brakes and tried to chase you down the games got more interesting.
This fellow might have been fired that day, found out his wife was unfaithful or any number of things. He decided to get even with at least one of us as the door flew open, his car left in the middle of the intersection. We took off in all directions; he didn’t stand a chance catching us on our own turf. He was swearing and puffing, puffing and swearing with each belabored stride through drifts of snow while we hid in bushes along the fence line behind our house.
After a while he gave up and plodded slowly back to his car. We thought he needed a little second dose as we let a second volley fly in his direction. He should’ve been ashamed for using that kind of language in front of kids.
This article has been cross posted to The Moral Liberal , a publication whose banner reads, “Defending The Judeo-Christian Ethic, Limited Government, & The American Constitution”.
Posted by T. F. Stern at 1:05 AM