I'm split on this one. Happy memories or reckless endangerment? ( how much of my childhood my parents knew nothing about would get them arrested today? Lots. )
My Dad pulled me on a sled behind his Model A on the quiet snowy streets a few times when I was 5 or 6. I think it had a longer rope and I assume he told me to dig my heels in when the brake light came on and was confident that I would do it. If the reports are true, this woman took more risks with younger kids.
>>>>My Dad pulled me on a sled behind his Model A on the quiet snowy streets a few times when I was 5 or 6.
We used to "hooky bob" . . . . holding onto the rear bumpers of the 1929 Model A and going around Collins Park in Topeka, KS late at night when there was lots of fresh snow.
Periodically . . someone would find a warm manhole lid and get launched . . . but they'd land, harmlessly, in a pile of snow and we'd laugh it off.
Yes . . . I know it was stupid, dangerous and immature.
Man am I thankful for those memories.
My grandkids play on playgrounds in Beverly Hills, CA and I joke that if you had the misfortune of falling from an airplane and the good fortune of landing on one of the "modern" playgrounds . . . you'd stand a good chance of survival. They are this springy rubber stuff that makes it pretty much impossible to fall and get hurt.
The U.S. Postal Service removed all the steel crash guards on the back of the mail delivery trucks. They were intended to prevent body damage from backing into the dock.
Skate boarders were catching rides, and the USPS decided paying for bodywork was cheaper than potential lawsuits. I can't say they were wrong, but I do miss the old days sometimes.
I would blame Youtube for countless spinal injuries, but honestly, the call, "Hey bubba, Watch This!" is a timeless American tradition. As is "Hold My Beer".
One of my best friends in high school had the same year 1973 Super Beetle that I did. His floor pan was rusting out, so as we rode around, one could whiz as needed...
One winter we got a truck tire innertube, a long piece of rope, and went riding around in a big hilly neighborhood. You learned fast when to bail, when to hang on! One of the residents grew to hate us, for obvious reasons, because we'd find new ways to raise hell. One fine evening, come summer, I was piloting my TS125 with no muffler, and riding my best buddy beatch. He grabbed a metal real estate sign, and we proceeded to run down the longest straight, WFO, and he'd slam the sign down for shits and giggles, over and again.
Dude had a Porsche. He chased us with it, both me and him WFO with my best friend on the back, downhill on a long section before I could hit the trails... he even killed his headlights as he tailed closer.
Mid 70s, My friends and I loved the old chrome bumpers in winter. Cars couldn't get away from stop signs faster than we could latch on in the snow. Some people were cool with it, some would fish tail on purpose, and a few would stop and yell. All three types were fun. My longest ride was 1.4 miles I bailed just before a salted intersection.