Epic...yea I remember playing outside lol. But we was po so there was nothing like that but we fashioned all kind of stuff together like a tyco tide around car we found junked that had no steering. It used two paddles for steering so we Jerry rigged it to work and would have a bigger kid pull it with a mountain bike till it felt like we going 50 till the crappy job on the steering gave and we went flying. Man then there were the jumps on thebmx that twisted the whole frame...good times.
Well, I didn't want to give the impression that we were rich - don't know where you would have read that in to what I wrote. After all, most of what we played around with was literally junk that Buzzy's dad brought home from work.
But we were rich in one thing, though, and that was creativity and experience. Really, think about it. For a couple of 11 or 12 year olds to study the jackshaft on that tractor and count the gear teeth and figure out how the reduction drive worked, and more importantly to figure out how we could switch it around to get what we thought we wanted out of it.....I don't think the internet generation could do that today.
Reminds me of a thread I recently read on a Jeep forum where a new Jeep owner had taken his Jeep off road, and was complaining that he had a vibration that seemed like it was coming from one of the wheels. Someone suggested that he try to see if he had scraped off a wheel weight. The guy replied to ask what a wheel weight was and where he would look for it!
But we did a lot of goofy and dangerous things, up to and including blowing things up. I should tell you about the home-made carbide cannon we made one day. Or the zip guns using umbrella stays and kitchen match scrapings. Or hopping on to passing freight trains - they were just leaving the switching yard and accelerating as they passed our railroad crossing - and riding for a few blocks before jumping off (except for that one kid that rode for too long and was afraid to jump off because the train was going too fast), or putting stuff on the tracks to see how much the train wheels would crush it. All things that could have cost life, limb, or realized that perpetual admonition that you'd put your eye out.
Thinking about this stuff brings back memories both good and bad.
Buzzy and I sort of lost touch as we entered our high school years, and Buzzy's family moved away. I do recall that Dave, Buzzy's older brother, became a Baptist minister.
Buzzy ended up getting in to a lot of trouble, and actually did prison time, because he had bought a Corvair Monza convertible (the American Porsche, as it was known), but was speeding through a residential neighborhood, blew a stop light, and hit and killed a kid in a cross walk.
By then, sometime during hagh school, Buzzy's dad passed away. Then Buzzy's slightly older sister, Linda, (who was a genuine hotty who used to sunbathe in their back yard in a bikini!) married a soldier and moved to Germany where he was stationed. Linda was in Germany and ready to deliver her first child when she was killed in a car accident on the Autobahn. That, plus her husband's recent death, put Buzzy's mom over the edge, and she pretty much went insane.
So it wasn't all fun and games.
But I'm rambling, now, like the old man I'm turning in to, and should probably get to work.