I remember double riding my sister on my bike’s handlebars. She’d sit right there on the front of the bike with her feet dangling down. How hard it was to turn with her on there, because of the weight. Also riding with no hands was so cool. When I mastered that, I thought I’d do better and try to ride with no hands and no feet. Needless to say, it didn’t work out so well…
I am interested in games that we can paint on the black top of our schools playground. I have enjoyed reading some of the memories of playgrounds of the past. I,too, remember the big slides (which in western Pennsylvania we just called slides!) and the names on the steps. I remember underducks and being dropped to the ground from the high side of the see-saw!! Our kids today don’t seemto know how to play like we did. They just want to run, knock each other down, and wrestle. I would like to share some of the games that we used to enjoy. Right now we only have 4-square blocks and basketball hoops (and they are’t up every day!!) Can anybody help? Email me at bobobollingerb5 [at] hotmail [dot] com Thanks
I’m building a nok hockey board from a picture. Could anyone tell me a few specifics? What is the size of the goal opening and the puck? How about the block in front of the goal, the size and it’s distance from the goal? I’ve made frame and board, but any other measurements are welcome. Thanks in advance.
I didn’t make a lot of prank calls, I was too scared the person might have caller ID or trace the call! My cousin, however, loved to make them. One she did a few times was she would call a random number and tell the person she was from Dominos and ask if they ordered some kind of pizza… When they said no, she’d say “Well then someone must be pranking you. This is the number they gave…” heh.
Here I am, Age 38, born and raised in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn, only girl on the block–Still have my skate key–it’s on the same key ring with my Suburban keys. One of my fondest memories, my Dad taking me to Triangle on 5th Ave & 83rd Street for a pair of Chicago Rollers Shoe Skates–black, of course. Mom was pissed, so was my brother. But I played a mean roller derby. Hockey was my forte’. Now, had a great pair of roller blades, 11 year old son trashed them. Now, I am the Mom, and I am pissed.
Growing up In Brooklyn and Manhattan, I’ve lived on the 6th floor, the 4th, and the 3rd. I remember the skill it took to throw the keys down to a visitor, or family. This doesn’t work too safely from floors higher than the 8th, but for the lower floors there was a definate art to it. I remember putting the keys into a raggedy (but clean) sock, so that they wouldn’t kill the visitor who invariably insisted on trying to catch it rather than let physics take it’s natural course. Small paper bags were a regular, too. Also the skill of not mis-targeting and landing your set of keys in the gutter grid, down with the NYC rats and their welcome committee. (I lost a handball down there once and was welcomed). Siblings always aimed for your head when you asked them to throw the keys down. The brass or steel they used back then must’ve been a heck of a lot stronger than they are now because they hardly ever broke; considering they were tossed out of the window onto concrete several times a day. Keys nowadays (especially my ignition keys) break after a few months. My folks have keys so old the print has worn off of them.