Why would it matter?

Jack McNamee wrote:

Boys will be boys and youthful exuberance.

Around age 10, my dad got me one of those little badass 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 tire will take 6 rounds before it goes down? Tough sumbich.

That got boring, so being the 10 yr old Dukes of Hazard 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.

One summer afternoon, I was shooting flaming arrows into a large rotten oak stump in our backyard. I looked over under the carport and saw a shiny brand new can of starting fluid (Ether). A light bulb went off in my head. I grabbed the can and set it on the stump. I thought that it would probably just spray out in a controlled manner once pierced by my arrow. Lets face it, to a 10 yr old mouth-breather like myself, (Ether) really doesn't "sound" all that flammable.

So, I went back into the house and got a 1 pound can of pyrodex (black powder for muzzle loader rifles). My intention was to sprinkle a little bit around the (Ether) can but it all sorta dumped out on me. No biggie, a 1 lb. pyrodex and 16 oz (Ether) should make a loud pop, kinda like a firecracker. You know what? I'm going back in the house for the other can. Yes, I got a second can of pyrodex and dumped it out on the stump too. Now I’m cookin'.

I stepped back about 15 ft and lit the 2 stroke arrow. I drew the nock to my cheek and took aim. As I released I heard a clunk as the arrow launched from my bow. In a slow motion time frame, I turned to see my dad getting out of his truck... He just got home from work. OH SHOOT!

So help me God, it took 10 minutes for that arrow to go from my bow to the can. My dad was walking towards me in slow motion with a WTF look in his eyes.

I turned back towards my target just in time to see the arrow pierce the starting fluid can right at the bottom. Right through the main pile of pyrodex and into the can. Oh wow!!!

When the shock wave hit, it knocked me off my feet. I don't know if it was the actual compression wave that threw me back or just my reflex jerk from 235 fricking decibels of sound. I caught a half a millisecond glimpse of the violence during the initial explosion and I will tell you there was dust, grass, and bugs all hovering 1 ft above the ground as far as I could see. It was a low fog layer full of grasshoppers, spiders, and worms.

The daylight turned purple. Let me repeat this: THE FRICKING DAYLIGHT TURNED PURPLE.

There was a big sweetgum tree out by the gate going into the pasture. Notice I said "was." That sumbich got up and ran off.

So here I am, on the ground blown completely out of my shoes with my thundercats T-Shirt shredded, my dad is on the other side of the carport having what I can only assume is a Vietnam flashback:

“ECHO BRAVO CHARLIE YOU'RE BRINGIN' EM IN TOO CLOSE!! CEASE FIRE. DAMN IT CEASE FIRE!!!"

His hat has blown off and is 30 ft behind him in the driveway. All windows on the north side of the house are blown out and there is a slow rolling mushroom cloud about 2000 ft. over our backyard.

There is a Honda 185 3-wheeler parked on the other side of the yard and the fenders are drooped down now, touching the tires.

I wish I knew what I said to my dad at this moment. I don't know - I know I said something. I couldn't hear. I couldn't hear inside my own head. I don't think he heard me either... not that it would really matter. I don't remember much from this point on. I said something, felt a sharp pain, and then woke up later. I felt a sharp pain, blacked out again, woke up later... repeat this process for an hour or so and you get the idea. I remember at one point my mom had to give me CPR, and Dad screaming "Bring him back to life so I can kill him again!!!" Thanks Mom.

One thing for sure... I never had to mow around that stump again. Mom had been complaining about that thing for years and dad never did anything about it. You gotta give me credit for stepping up to the plate and taking care of business.

Dad sold his muzzle loader a week or so later.

I still have some sort of bone growth abnormality, either from the blast or the beating, or both.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, get your kids into archery. But only under close supervision. It will teach you parental responsibility.

Fantastic,

When I was 11 I had a bow and arrow set. My younger brothers and I were entertaining ourselves, the game I was playing
was shoot the arrow as high as possible straight up into the sky. My 6 year old brother John paniced and didn't follow us as we srambled out of the way straight north and he just ran around in a circle, it came straight down of course virtually on top of him just narrowly missing his skull and took a good notch of skin out of his hide on his back just between his shoulder blades. I almost died inside, needless to say no parents were supervising. A good example of my youthful STUPIDITY!

Can't rival your heroic attempts at self entertainment Jack. Stupidist I got was trying to figure out how I would start a fire to attract attention if my car ever broke down in the desert and I had no matches. Don't know why, I was 10, couldn't drive and was nowhere near a desert. Got an old car battery on the floor of the shop, poured some gas into a metal dish perched on top of the negative earth then slowly dropped a bit of rebar between the positive terminal and the gas dish. It worked and I discovered the plastic casing on a battery melts and how to take a coat off in a hurry if the sleeve catches fire

I got that as an e-mail this morning and I was in tears reading it. Reminded me of a Patrick McManus story.

Jack still laughing near the Pumpkin creek bridge.

Grassfarmer wrote:

Can't rival your heroic attempts at self entertainment Jack. Stupidist I got was trying to figure out how I would start a fire to attract attention if my car ever broke down in the desert and I had no matches. Don't know why, I was 10, couldn't drive and was nowhere near a desert. Got an old car battery on the floor of the shop, poured some gas into a metal dish perched on top of the negative earth then slowly dropped a bit of rebar between the positive terminal and the gas dish. It worked and I discovered the plastic casing on a battery melts and how to take a coat off in a hurry if the sleeve catches fire

Oh the school of hard knocks. If I'd just listen to that angel on my shoulder every now and then life would be easier but I don't think I would remember the lessons as long.

Jack in the vicinity of pain = lesson learned, the only way I seem to be able to learn.

If you have not seen The Grown ups, you should. I my self played the same arrow trick years ago and when the played arrow roulette I almost pissed myself. Was I really that stupid? Ah! Dont answer that. As for my age, I wish I was 23 again, but not 40 yet either.

Jack McNamee wrote:

I got that as an e-mail this morning and I was in tears reading it. Reminded me of a Patrick McManus story.

Jack still laughing near the Pumpkin creek bridge.

Still in tears! That Tom seems to got the age deal about right, was it skill or Inside Information? Guess we owe him $20. JJ has some Grit he's B A C K still got's issues with the story. lets go another 20 on if he is bald or not. JJ send a pic I think Voss is right he has a fat head and a flat forehead. notice he has toned down about the hot Wife maybe she got him straight.

I’m guessing it was Tom’s skill... with a computer; mine pegged him at 35 as well

Hard to top Jack’s story

Ether was a definite excitement maker, my cousin and I were hunting pigeons and realized that they would keep taking cover in a big channel beam over the 30’ door to the machine shed, we decided if they won’t come out we’ll blow them out, grabbed a can of ether and each shimmed up an ibeam on either side of the door so we could grab them when they stumbled out. We were not sure exactly how much ether would be needed but we defiantly didn’t’ want to be short. The next thing we remember is lying on our back on the shed floor wondering why it was snowing and what happened to each other’s eye brows and hair.

Don't mess with the C. I. Eh. You should see some of the stuff we dug up on the Nebekers.

Tom D wrote:

Don't mess with the C. I. Eh. You should see some of the stuff we dug up on the Nebekers.

Oh Shit!

Clown 4 to clown 5, is your tail in wringer? I never have tried it and have been wanting too. How does it feel? Clown 3, I'm out of beer, wine, and whiskey, I guess we're just down to whine. Do you like whine clown 2? Clown 1, is there some bull out there you're excited about?


Bootheel, hoping I acknowledged all 5 of the clowns

Hilly wrote:

I’m guessing it was Tom’s skill... with a computer; mine pegged him at 35 as well

Hard to top Jack’s story

Ether was a definite excitement maker, my cousin and I were hunting pigeons and realized that they would keep taking cover in a big channel beam over the 30’ door to the machine shed, we decided if they won’t come out we’ll blow them out, grabbed a can of ether and each shimmed up an ibeam on either side of the door so we could grab them when they stumbled out. We were not sure exactly how much ether would be needed but we defiantly didn’t’ want to be short. The next thing we remember is lying on our back on the shed floor wondering why it was snowing and what happened to each other’s eye brows and hair.

Good One!