The best place to play and grow up and everybody had a nickname from Nuggie to Espo to Cooch Big and Little, also Big and Little Bud, Juggie just to name a few. Dont forget Brunos Candy Store and the Summer Center. Games of stickball, softball, football, basketball, asses up, ringalevio, 3 feet over germany (an original), hot peas and butter etc……..
hey! lookin @ this brings backso many memories! i was wonderin if anyone remebered a song it was like “down down baby down by the roller coaster sweet sweet baby never gona let u go..then what comes next?” and also… how do u guys remeber the song “down by the banks” this is how i remeber it… down by the banks of the hanky panks where the bullfrogs jump from bank 2 bank signin eipps ippes opps oops chillie willy ding dong i pledge alligance to the flag micheal jackson makes me gag..coca cola brought him up now we’re talkin 7up..7up has no caffeine now we’re talkin billy jean..billy jean has no butt now we’re talkin pizza hut , pizza hut has no bread now we’re talkin really dead eippes ippes opps oops chilly willy ding dong- i know theres more but ijst cant rember! *xoxo* -Christine
Playing bottle cap ball in a narrow gravel driveway next to a small store in Missouri, we’d stop for a refreshment–a Pepsi and a nickel bag of Planters peanuts. We’d pour the peanuts in the bottle of Pepsi. When we really got the craving, we’d buy a bottle of Grapette, which was only about 7 ounces of soda. But a bottle of Pepsi got you more for your dime. D.K. in Missouri
Jenn(jenijenn) i know a different version from that one: take a peach, a plum, a piece of bubble gum no peach, no plum, no piece of bubble gum i like coffee i like tea i like the colored boy and he likes me so step back white boy you don’t shine i met my boyfriend at the candy store he bought me ice cream he, bought me cake, he brought me home with a stomach ache momma, momma i feel sick call the doctor quick , quick, quick doctor, doctor before i die ima close my eyes and count to five a 1, a 2, a 3, 4, 5 im alive !!!! see that house on top of that hill?? that’s where me and my boyfriend live cook that chicken, burn that rice grandpa went to town to get some ice grandma out there trickin and nieghbor’s in the alley beatin’ his wife
Here’s a rhyme I picked up somewhere: Blue bells, cockel shells, easy ivy over, I met by boyfriend at the candy store He bought me candy, he bought me cake, He brought me home with a tummy-ache… Mama, mama, I’m so sick, Call a doctor, quick quick quick! Doctor, Doctor, will I die? Count to five and you be all right. 1 2 3 4 5 I’m alive!
Reiner’s candy store on 46th Sreet near Fort Hamilton Parkway in Borough Park. One of our gang, Mickey, worked there part time as a soda-jerk. Somehow, our portions of malted-milks or ice cream sundaes were larger than others received. Outside the store, we would watch the girls sashay by. No wolf calls or whistles. Ah, those were the days of innocence.
She had the brightest eyes and smile that lit up like a Christmas tree when she was happy (which was most of the time). She’d come home from work, crack open a can of veggies to go with some hastily thrown together meat and grain (Thank God my grandparents lived downstairs and did the “real” cooking), while singing Dionne Warwick songs (You’ll never get to heaven, and Alfie, etc). She was tougher on me than a drill sergeant, but after a good interactive whipping, she’d kiss me, give me my favorite strawberry icecream, then let me (her oldest girl) hang out in her bed and watch a comedy past my usual bed time. She had an infectious laugh that made the doctors and orderlies in the hospital (where she was a nurse) fall in love with her. She loved to dance and sing. Over 300 hospital staff showed up at her funeral at age 29. We didn’t have many years together, but no one can replace my beautiful mom in my heart.
If the SBHS web site wasn’t enough, this is the greatest. I grew up in Vanderveer Estates. Choy’s, Mano’s and Lenny’s Pizzerias [some of the first around], Mark’s Toy Corner, Carl and Mike’s candy store, Louie’s candy store near the library on Nostrand. Anyone hear from Teddy Friedman or Jackie Fagan? How about when JFK campaigned on the corner of Nostrand and Foster. I stuck my head in the car to shake Herbert Lehman’s hand and couldn’t believe it — an air conditioned car. Any grads of PS 269: Mr. Farb, Mr. Spiro, Mr. Shapiro, Mrs. Genge, Mrs. Ephraim, whom, I’m ashamed to say, Stewart Meyer and I gave an ulcer to. PS 89: Mr. Ezekiel, Mrs. Branhower. I still speak with Abe Schwarz and his sister Helen. We all lived at 1414 New York Avenue. Let me know.
…When You learn the fine art of attaining New York cuisine. Most school kids that I knew couldn’t afford to eat out much for lunch (beyond pizza slices). School lunch was one-dimensional, which left going home for lunch. According to what “cultural mood” our taste buds were in, we’d drop in on the best cooks/mothers among our crew of friends. For instance, if I was feeling under the weather I’d go to my girl friend’s house for her Sandy’s grandma’s Matzoh ball soup with challah or to Cheng’s mom for her killer rice noodle soup. Most mothers were stay-at-home back then and great cooks, so kids would just drop in for lunch with their buddies, for international cuisine. There’s absolutely nothing like home cooked pierogis, kasha varnishkas (excuse any mispells), pigeon peas and rice, arepas, tostones, jerk chicken, scrambled eggs over brown rice and teriyaki sauce, tofu burgers…. whatever the culinary craving, there was a mom in my school or neighborhood who could do it right. No overpriced meal in the world could every equal those of skilled family cooks. I still drop-in on friend’s moms for home-cooked delicacies. One time I walked-in on the wrong meal… blood sausage with apple sauce at home of my Fountainbleu France friend, Jeffrey. While hitch hiking in Italy, a French girl and I were asked to dine at the mountainside home of an elderly lady who blew our minds with home-made margherita pizzas with a bottle of red and white. The olive oil and small dish of tomato sauce that she gave us while waiting was enough to make us cry. My first sushi experience was in Alaska, at the home of my Hawaiian friend. Too many beautiful culinary moments to mention.
CHINESE JUMPROPE RULES I REMEMBER: Different people have different styles of it, i remember… when i played it we didn’t have any songs or chants going on, but people would chant their traditional order of stepping. The one I knew went: “In, Out, Side to Side, In, Out, On!” In: both feet inside Out: both feet outside Side to Side: both feet on either side of one long side of the jumprope, then on the other On: both feet on the opposite long sides of the jumprope. After passing one level, the setup of the jumprope would switch. If i remember correctly, the order went something like this: (the names might not be the real ones) Rectangle – each holder’s feet shoulder-width apart Two Feet – two feet together One Foot – jumprope only goes around one foot of each holder Pizza – one holder does Rectangle, the other One Foot, creating a triangle shape X’s – like rectangle, but with twisting the rope to make an X shape instead of a box Back and Forth – the holders would move their legs back and forth, making the jumprope move Shakesies – the holders shake their legs so that the jumprope moves randomly After going through those levels (i think there were more but i can’t remember them, although i think most of the names ended in “-ies”), the holders would raise the jumprope to higher levels, such as to the knee. Then you would have to do the whole thing all over again, but double-tapping at each step. If you got through all of that, too, you would get to triple-tapping, etc.