Category Archives: Locales

I still laugh when I think…

Streetplay Discussion Archive Posted on by
Original author: Karen38 [e-mail]
 

I still laugh when I think of all the pranks we pulled and the games we played growing up… On one occasion, my brother and I broke open a tennis ball, and wrapped the neighbor’s dog up with the long rubber band that was inside. We used to make up games, usually involving some kind of pain, such as slapping each other’s faces to see who would give up first, or head knocking. “Mean Old Daddy” was a neighborhood favorite. One of us would steal a long belt from one of our dads when he wasn’t looking or at work. Then sit outside in a chair and pretend to be sleeping. The rest of us had to sneak past without “Mean Old Daddy” waking up, or he would go after us with that belt! We would also pick inkberries at the bus stop, and pelt each other with them; they would make wonderful purple spots that would never come out of our clothes. It seems that kids are just not allowed to have fun anymore. I’m sort of glad about that, too, because it’s a wonder we all survived it!

My mother in law grew up…

Streetplay Discussion Archive Posted on by
Original author: Cindy
 

My mother in law grew up in the Bronx and sings a song like that to my daughter. She used to sing it while jumping rope- “A my name is Anna, I come from Alabama & I eat apples”. You’d then continue through the entire alphabet…X must’ve been a hard one!

I played box baseball in…

Streetplay Discussion Archive Posted on by
Original author: Albert [e-mail]
 

I played box baseball in the Linden Projects (East New York, Brooklyn). We also played boxball. For boxball we used four boxes (2×2) and each player got a box. Then we would tap the ball back and forth between the players until someone couldn’t return the ball into one of the other boxes or couldn’t hit it before it hit the floor twice. There was also another game which used 5 boxes (in a straight row). First you have to make the ball bounce once in the #1 box. Then once in the #1 box and once in the #2 box & so on until you did all 5 boxes.

We played all the Philly…

Streetplay Discussion Archive Posted on by
Original author: Fred B. Block [e-mail]
 

We played all the Philly street games in Strawberry Mansion(North Philly). Drain pipe climbing was a necessary skill that was developed as a result of “roofing” half balls hit up there or the whole pimples gone there in ledgeball or “ledgies”. The roof contained a renewable resource for halfball as I recall. I now live in Arizona where summer temperatures in the full sun can go over 150 degrees at 6 feet above the ground. Lucky that we’re are next to the Colorado River at the Mexican and Calif. borders- but no street games here in the summer. The winters are ok about 70, no rain and sunny with our visitors playing golf. Too bad for them not to play halfball instead. regards to all- Fred in Yuma

Here’s another jump rope…

Streetplay Discussion Archive Posted on by
Original author: Ann
 

Here’s another jump rope rhyme we used to sing in Queens: Fire, fire false alarm (Ann) fell into (“Kevin’s) arms How many kisses did she receive, Close your eyes and you will see, Passing three! One, two, three…. (keep counting and jumping with closed eyes until you miss.) Does anyone remember a jump rope rhyme involving telling time? One person is jumping and reciting the rhyme, and a second person jumps in becoming the “hands” of the clock circling the original person for each hour position as they say, “one o’clock, two o’clock…”?

Russian 7 and 10 players–we…

Streetplay Discussion Archive Posted on by
Original author: Gloria [e-mail]
 

Russian 7 and 10 players–we called this game 7 up in Illinois, as did my friend in New Hampshire. Suzyfromqueens’ description sounds right, although we did not spell “Russia.” I was a child in the 50’s, and we would never spell, let alone say, Russia.

I had been to the roller…

Streetplay Discussion Archive Posted on by
Original author: dwoncisz [e-mail]
 

I had been to the roller rinks in Brooklyn and Queens all of my life, folks showing off their savoire faire and the derby types that pluck you off like hockey players. But it was not until summer in the 80’s that I found sheer beauty in dance skating in Central Park. A girl from Michigan, Zee was very much like Madonna and was the first to befriend me at the park. I was in excellent shape due to bike messengering, and although I could always skate, skate, my move lacked finesse until she taught me how to define my moves in a small confine and express myself on wheels. The other regulars met after work and we were of all ages. My regular dance partner was Eddie, a smooth Latino who taught me the crazy 8’s around the cans and hustle turns all around him and the circle that we all flew around. It was the greatest release to flow with the music and the bodies. The guys demonstrating their strength by lifting and turning the ladies without missing beat, and the ladies showing their svelte physiques and grace. Water was the most important commodity in the park. I remember how we used to say to one another as we danced and sweated around the circle…”I’m sitting out the next one” but inevitably the next song would be a more crucial jam than the last. And we would keep on movin’. An older Italian gentleman was my slow jam partner. He saved my life once when he spotted me flying around the corner of 59th and 5th with a broken axle, he snatched me right out of the street into his arms and the safety of the corner. I did not realize I was so close to being history. I thanked and hugged the hero. I tried to get the beauty of a man and woman skating together to music across to a young Irish speed street hockey player. He lived for flying down 5th avenue backwards on skates. He could only relate to slolums and speed.

My grandmother and I used…

Streetplay Discussion Archive Posted on by
Original author: dwoncisz [e-mail]
 

My grandmother and I used to frequent the essex market and she could makethe poorest cuts of meat and poultry taste better than any 5 star restaurant. My grandfather took us to the deli’s down there at least twice a month, and I finally learned how to share a pastrami on rye and fries with my sister when my grandfather forced me to eat an entire huge sandwich at the table alone for being greedy. My first apartment was on Rivington Street.I was an eighteen year old bike messenger, One of the few females who were. My neighbor above me was a counselor from Covenant house (she told me about the available apt.). Her boyfriend (he was my age, she was not) lived directly below me. Needless to say when they had a lover’s quarrel, they usually had it on my portion of neutral fire- escape. Drama Galore! When I moved into that apartment there was a huge demonic circle (as my neighbor called it)dead in the center of the studio apartment. I didn’t place a carpet over it nor try to erase it. My counselor/neighbor suggested we try to see if it was a portal to some parallel-dimension. She bought by phenol barbitol to aide in the transport. She was a rich girl from conneticut into recreational drug use, but me and her boyfriend grew up watching people like her invade our slums for this purpose. We knew that drugs for sport always ended up as another junkie statistic. Anyway I ended up with a boyfriend of my own (minus the drama) and the apartment worked out fine until I let some jealous friends watch it for me while I visited relatives in the poconos for a week. They tried to torch place and I got thrown out. My favorite chinese restaurant was located on Catherine Street between Henry and East Broadway. Every Wednesday this tiny place was filled with only New Yorkers. My favorite dish was chinese vegetables with rice noodles.