Monday, December 18, 2006

Hey Its the Holiday Season!

While this isn't a very religious post, it sure is fun to reminisce!
My son sent me a link:

http://www.radarmagazine.com/features/2006/12/toys.php

It is about the dangerous toys that I grew up with. So here we go, down the lane of misbegotten memories:
Here is my reply to him and some not so good fatherly advice!?!
Hope you can find some Lawn Darts at a garage sale so Dillon can enjoy the fruits of throwing them over the roof (Yup, dear ole dad did that one back in Marietta, Ohio when he was younger.) We also threw footballs, GI Joe (with parachutes), baseballs, softballs etc. over the roof. Mom would catch us when we hit the roof and she heard the thump!
I had an action figure (boys played with toy soldiers or action figures then) and I put a parachute on him and tossed him off the roof one day. It actually worked!
That was fun,so we had to, you guessed it, go higher. So up the t.v. antennae we went. Or I went. That antenna got me in a lot of trouble. Make sure you install an antenna beside your house, not for t.v. (we have cable now) but so Dillon can get on the roof easier!
Then there was the chemistry set. Oh my! Not like today's lame ones. Give me a break! I made gunpowder with my set. Not foaming baking soda!
I wore an actual radium dial watch for a while. Wish I still had it. I wonder if I ate off the radioactive fostoria plates in the 70's? They are more radioactive than samples in the lab (only if the paint chipped off).
I had toy guns that launched projectiles galore. None went down any one's throats, though there were a few bullies I think I would have tried, if I had been thinking of it (and not running a lot).
I remember a friend, who decided to put calcium carbide in a pop bottle (look it up) add water to the bottle, attach a balloon to the bottle and fill it with the acetylene gas that was produced. Of course,when ignited, it made a satisfactory whooshing sound. It ended though when he (like us all) decided that bigger is better and it prematurely went off and burned him (not too bad, I think).
Then there was the event of the chewing tobacco. Red Pouch I think. At least I was smart enough to say -no thanks-(thanks to my brother's experience) and I still grin at the green faces of my friends.
I laid in the back window of the car as we drove out to Uncle John's house. Oh no! No air bagged car seat! No helmet! No tooth protector! No safety device!! And no ticket for parents either!
How did I survive? Maybe dad wasn't an idiot driver? Who knows? Angels working overtime?
Tree climbing, riding bikes down stairs, sledding over ice packed ramps and across streets, jumping out of haylofts of barns, swinging on grape vines, playing football(tackle) without any padding, driving dad's tractor as fast as it would go up the highway, and also his car on the country ridge. (I think I put it up on two wheels on a turn one day.)
I took chemistry, biology, anatomy, organic chem, and am still alive.
I experimented with gravitational fields by falling out of trees, over handle bars of bikes (onto a graveled road, nice chest dive there!), trying to do flips off of the high dive (ouch! that hurt!) catching baseballs with body parts not meant to (eyes, etc.)
Concussions, pneumonia, burns, pokes,falls, trips, battery acid, countless bike wrecks, sports injuries, you name, I almost did it.
How did I grow up? I don't know!
Love Dad

My parents let me play, on my own. There were no "play dates". I escaped house from the house in the morning and only returned when hungry or a) if hurt b) it was time to come in.
Parents were not "helicopters" hovering over everything I did.
Like one wise woman said once to me, "We raise corn, and rear children." and so did my parents.
Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right. Honor your father and mother (which is the first commandment with a promise), so that it may be well with you, and that you may live long on the earth. And fathers, do not provoke your children to wrath, but bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. (Ephesians 6:1-4)
Children, obey your parents in all things, for this is well-pleasing to the Lord. (Colossians 3:20)
As a child, when I was disobedient, the part about fathers and wrath was nice to know, as a dad, Colossians 3:20 is nice to know.
Actually, following the scripture makes for a good life. Despite toy dangers!



Monday, December 04, 2006

The lights are up and the tree is decorated. The stockings are hung by the chimney with care in hopes that St. Nicholas will soon be here.
As a kid, my dad would bring home these huge, huge Christmas trees (at least they were huge when I was a kid, like all snows were knee deep etc.). After we decorated them, I would lay under the tree (really, that was how big they were) and look up through the branches at all the lights.
We had those "old-fashioned" lights that had big bulbs and when you unscrewed one, they all went out-not these tinny little ones today.
I would lay there and just look at the lights. Enjoying the colors.
And then mom would get out the manger scene and we would put up the manger, put in the straw, and then place all the figurines. A lot of thought went into where to put baby Jesus. Every year He would go in a different place that usually ended up smack in the center of all.
In my innocence of childhood, I would stare at the little figure of the baby and wonder about it all. I would imagine the shepherds in the fields and wonder, just what is a manger anyway?
Today, I have that manger and those figures. My parents no longer get all the Christmas decorations out and so I asked for it. I wanted a small piece of my childhood and the childlike wonder of thinking about Jesus in the manger.
You know, today, as adults we all get all heated up about things around Christmas.
Things like-you know it started as a Pagan holiday? Yup, I know-the tree, the lights, Santa Claus, are all myths and stuff like that. If reindeer didn't like the zoo, then how come they don't just fly away?
Jesus wasn't born in December! It isn't mentioned in the Bible! It says wise men, not three wise men.
Then there are all kinds of stories about Mary, Joesph and Jesus. Mary was a virgin her entire life (then were did the brothers come from?). Mary dreamed the whole thing and made it up (someone really made that up).
Then there is the PCer's and their hatred of anything Christian-we won't go there.
We have Christmas pageants, Christmas lighting displays numbering on the thousands, so many shopping days to go! things to do, places to go and oh my! I am so stressed! (Yes, there is now post-holiday stress syndrome, don't tell me how, but it is here.)
And Jesus called a little child to Him and set him in their midst, and said, Truly I say to you, Unless you are converted and become as little children, you shall not enter into the kingdom of Heaven. (Matthew 18:2-3)
When I hear or read all the adult screaming about Christmas, I think of the little boy who laid under the tree and wondered about it all. I wonder about how a little child coming up to Jesus.
"Hi Mr. Jesus, my name is Timmy"
"Hi Timmy, how are you?"
"Fine"
"Mr. Jesus, why do you have holes in your hands?"
And He would proceed to tell him about His love and how much He loves him. And the little boy would probably ask Him things like "Why?" and Jesus would tell him.
Kids are like that. When he learned about the holes, I could hear little Timmy ask
"Did it hurt very much?"
Innocence.

I think I will go lay under the tree.

Until next time on my front porch.