8 Dangerous Toys from the Past

[Spots]

I read this on another forum a long time ago, and it is still one of the funniest things I've ever read.

Around age 10 my dad got me one of those little bad-ass 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 will take 6 close range rounds before it goes down? Tough sumbich.

That got boring, so being the 10 yr. old Dukes of Hazzard 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. Keep in mind this was 99.999% humidity swampland so there really wasn't any fire danger. I’ll put it this way- a set of post hole diggers and a 3 ft. hole and you had yourself a well.

One summer afternoon, I was shooting flaming arrows into a large rotten oak stump in our backyard. I happened to look over towards the carport and see a shiny brand new can of starting fluid (ether). The light bulb went on. I grabbed the can and set it on the stump. I figured it would probably just spray out in a disappointing manner. Let’s face it…to a 10 yr. old mouth-breather like me ether really doesn't "sound" flammable. So, I went back into the house and got a 1 pound can of 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, 1 pound of black powder and a 16 oz can of ether should make a loud pop kind of like a firecracker, You know what? Fight that! I'm going back in the house for the other can. Yes, I got a second can of black powder and dumped it too. Now we're cookin'.

I stepped back about 15 feet and lit the 2 stroke soaked arrow. I drew the nock to my cheek and took aim. Upon releasing the arrow I heard the sound of a car door closing as the arrow sped its way to my target. In what can only be described as the slow motion frame by frame advancement on a VCR, I turned to see my dad getting out of the truck. SHEET…he just got home from work.

As God is my witness it took 10 minutes for that arrow to reach the can only 15 feet distant. I see my dad walking towards me with a *** look in his eyes. I turned back towards my intended target just in time to see the arrow pierce the starting fluid can right at the bottom, right through the pile of black powder and into the can.

When the shock wave hit it knocked me off my feet. I don't know if it was the actual concussion from the blast or the 235 fighting decibels of sound that laid me out. I do recall a milliseconds glimpse of the violence during the initial explosion and I will tell you there was dust, grass, and bugs all hovering 1 foot above the ground as far as I could see. It was like a low layer of a dust based fog full of grasshoppers, spiders, ants, earthworms and a crawfish or two. The daylight turned purple. Let me repeat this...THE FIGHTING DAYLIGHT TURNED PURPLE. There was a big Sweetgum tree out by the gate going into the pasture. Notice I said "was". That mo-fo up rooted and ran off.

So here I am, on the ground, blown completely out of my shoes with my Thunder Cats T-shirt shredded, eyebrows singed with my dad on the other side of the carport having what I can only assume is a Vietnam flashback. ECHO BRAVO CHARLIE YOUR BRINGIN' EM IN TOO CLOSE!! CEASE FIRE GOD DANG IT…CEASE FIRE!!

His hat has blown off and is 30 ft. behind him in the driveway. All the windows on the north side of the house are blown out and there is a slow rolling mushroom cloud about 200 feet over our backyard. We had a Honda 185s 3 wheeler parked on the other side of the yard. The fenders are drooped down from the heat and are now touching the tires.

I wish I knew what I said to my dad at that moment but I truthfully don't know - I know I said something. But I couldn't hear, my ears were ringing so loud I couldn't even hear inside my own head. I don't think he heard me either...not that it would have really mattered. The fact is I don't remember much from this point on. It's all very foggy. I said something, felt a sharp pain, and then woke up later. I felt a sharp pain, blacked out, woke later.... this happened for an hour. I remember at one point my mom had to give me CPR. And I do recall hearing dad say something to the effect of “bring him back to life so I can kill him again”. But I’m told I was just hallucinating. Thanks mom.

One thing is for certain...I never had to mow around that stump again. Mom had been *****ing about that thing for years and dad never did anything about it. I stepped up to the plate and handled business. Dad sold his muzzleloaders a week or so later, we got some new windows, and that quad I'd wanted for some time. And to this day I still have some sort of bone growth abnormality either from the blast or the beating, maybe both.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, get your kids into archery. It's a good discipline and will teach them skills they can use later on in life.

Sent from the backwoods

[darsk20]

Let's see . . . After church all the kids aged 10 - 40 would have hickory nut fights.

We were allowed metal scissors in school. Break the handles, fold back on itself and now you had a dual pointed and sharp throwing implement.

Take rwo pair of the same scissors and break them at the joint. Couldn't/didn't have a welder so used epoxy to make my own throwing stars. All because my parents wouldn't just buy me one or two.

Fun times.

Sent from my SM-G900V using Tapatalk

[Caster]

Darsk hits on something that don't happen much anymore. Weapons for kids to play with.

I had more swords, machetes, throwing stars, nunchucks, and the like than you could haul in a wheel barrow.
There was a gun store close to where my great grandfather was in the nursing home. I was maybe ten. I use to ride with granny to visit her dad and she'd take me places afterwards. I went in the gun shop and they had a Monadnock PR24s. I had the money but the guy wouldn't sell it to me. Not selling it wasn't a big deal, laws are laws you know but the guy was a douche about it. We went to Wendy's and gto a burger and granny seen how sad I was and drove back there, went in and bought it. I was standing outside, she walked out the door, handed it to me, that was the end of that. The look on the guy's face was priceless. I gave him my best *neener neener* with a :poop: eatin' grin. Thanks granny. Edited August 1, 2015 by Caster

[NextExit]

Roman candle wars using a metal trash can lid as a shield.  Fun times! :tough:

[Caster]

Ohh hell yeah.  1/2" PVC made for a great bottle rocket launcher bazooka.

 

Had one bounce off my ribs and land in my pocket before it pooped off.  That was....uncomfortable.  

Fireworks and deviant creativity were a hobby of me and cousin of mine.  We'd unroll a hundred firecrackers under a sheet of plywood, then lay on the plywood as they went off under it.  

Edited August 1, 2015 by Caster

[BigK]

It's no wonder today's generation are so soft. The most dangerous thing they get to play with is a cell phone or a video game controller. They grow up to be the kind of men who call roadside assistance to install a spare tire in their OWN driveway or hire a contractor to build their kids a tree house. That is...IF they hang around with baby-momma long enough to actually see their kids grow up.

[Caster]

Dang right BigK.  Wish i had a dollar for every time my grandpa said "GD'it boy quit being a p***y!"   One of his favorite sayings was, If you're gonna be dumb, you gotta be tough.  

[polecat]

 

 

One of his favorite sayings was, If you're gonna be dumb, you gotta be tough. 

 

I love that saying and heard it many times. Those guys were great. My dad was of the greatest generation and I think those guys were a different breed. He taught me to do all kinds of things now considered dangerous. He taught me to shoot and be safe around firearms when I old enough to join the Boy Scouts. I remember at 12 years old ; He and I were winter camping up in Northern Michigan and and he patiently stood by as I tried to start a fire in a snowstorm (with him coaching me), when it finally took,  he said "now your cookin with gas! " He was a great guy and all these toys on the list just made me think of him and the fun we had with him as kids. 

[GKar]

Best friend and I had numerous pyro-adventures.  Once put calcium carbide and water into a big glass soft drink bottle, then quickly put one of those giant balloons over the neck.  Once it filled to the max with the resulting acetylene gas, tied it off, taped about three feet of cannon fuse (you could buy enormous rolls of it from ads in comic books), lit it and let it go about 10pm at night.  Fireball filled the sky, cops filled the neighborhood...

[Dirtshooter]

And to add to the list of toys, what about cars that didn't have seat belts, steel dashes with no padding, lying on the package tray in the back window on road trips. We could stay gone all day riding bikes, fishing or what ever as long as we were home by dark. I guess back then there weren't a bunch of child molesters or perverts like we have now. Go to the store at 9 and buy 22 ammo or cigarettes (for our parents) of course and nobody questioned it.  We had it made as far as having the freedom to go and do without all the restrictions that kids have now due to all the perverts out there. We had it made and didn't realize how lucky we were, dang it I sure wish my grand-kids could enjoy more of those freedoms!!! Guys we owe our grand-kids these freedoms again, how can we accomplish it? Thanks for all the memories brought back in living color from the black and white days!!!

[deerslayer]

Yes, I remember riding bikes all over the place all day, bottle rocket wars with PVC, shooting arrows straight up, then running off in no particular direction when we lost them in the sun, all kinds of fun with matches and gasoline, and too much pyrotechnic/pseudo-explosive ordinance fun with black powder to detail on the internet.  I am lucky to be alive just from my numerous cataclysmic bicycle crashes alone.  Those were the days...

[gun sane]

Blowtorches were made for anthills.  ;)

[deerslayer]

...and whatever head injuries I may have sustained from riding a bike without a helmet would pale in comparison to the head injuries I would have sustained if the neighborhood kids had caught me wearing a helmet.

[Spots]

I grew up in the blacksmith shop. You should see some of the rediclous stuff my dad helped me crank out to play with. He made me a wooden broadsword when I was 6 or 7. By the time I was 9 I had a fullsize, hand forged sharpened one lol. Handmade spikes and throwing stars, knives by the dozens. My idea of something cool to watch was filling a soup can with gas and tossing in an 1800 degree piece of scrap steel from a few feet away. I was to close once and when it went off my ass hit the ground. Dad told me to get up and quit acting like a girl. We did all kinds of fun and dangerous stuff. Dad was and is also heavily involved in Martial arts, which was great for discipline, but when I was a kid my rough housing usually involved a lot of judo throws, arm bars and chokes. I would probably spend time in juvenile hall for the fights I got into due to some of the injuries sustained lol.

Sent from the backwoods

[Johnny Rotten]

Spots your post reminded me of HS..

 

Our high school welding shop had a forge, during the winter months the teacher would fire it up to heat the shop, a group of kids (6-10) would surround it to get warm, one of my classmates was gas welding in a cell, that little bastard took a garbage bag and fill it up with acetylene and oxygen and floated the gas fill bag over our heads as it made contact with the flame it exploded, needless to say nobody was standing after the explosion...lol.   

[john455]

My brother and I would get a milk jug fill it with gas and duct tape a 12ga shell in the top then shoot it with our BB guns ONE HELL OF A BOOM

Edited August 2, 2015 by john455

[raildog]

One of the most burtal beatings i took was when i was 13 for shooting a bottle rocket in to a combination picker and setting it on fire sad part is it wasn't me but i was the oldest one there so it was my fault great logic dad