Summer nights are for friends, fire flies, and flashlights
It is officially summer time.
Now, I love the cold weather but I also love the hot evenings as well. What makes me feel all warm and fuzzy is seeing the sun tuck itself behind the trees, turning the sky a calming pink-blue-gray color and the clouds slightly darker than the sky behind them.
Around this time of the evening there are a few things that I like to do. One of them is that I like to sit outside in the quiet. When I get the time to sit on the porch with a cold drink and a cigar and watch the dragonflies hunt gnats, watch the fireflies light up the wooded area around the pond and watch the sky turn from its pinkish blue to a dark purplish black, I find myself at complete peace.
When I was growing up, around the age of twelve or so, I lived outside during the summer. Really, my parents wouldn’t let me in the house at night.
No, the neighborhood kids and I would have to be dragged in or threatened with not going out the next night in order to get us inside at the end of the day... or night.
I lived in a neighborhood that had, let me count, about fifteen rug-rats plus me, my brother and sister. We all ran Woodglen Drive like a gang in the Bronx back in the ’20s
After dinner and dishes, our parents would let us out for round two.
Prior to all of us having to go in for supper, we would talk and plan phase two of our summer day.
Flashlight Tag.
The sport of kings.
This was a game that required great skill, a cunning sence of strategy, and physical stamina that would rival that of a Roman gladiator.
Flashlight Tag was based on the rules of regular hide-n-seek. The only differences were that you played outside, at night, in a pitch-black yard and used a flashlight to “tag” the person. You had to call their name when you spotted them.
As soon as the fire flies started to illuminate the dark air that held the trees in their place, we would start the game.
The first person “it” was determined by a tried and true round of paper, rock, and scissors.
Everyone would then decide on a “base” and we would set the boundaries of where we could hide. The latter was a rule that no one ever seemed to abide by.
We took this game seriously. Actually, at twelve years old, we didn’t have anything else in our lives that was serious and that was the beauty of it, there was nothing serious in our lives... no cares.
When the counting started, we scattered like cockroaches in a quickly light room. Some darted for a bush, others sought refuge under a car that was parked near the woods and there were always a few weak players that would just hide close to base so that they could run and be safe as soon as the “it” person turned their back.
Not me. I would climb trees, shimmy into drainage ditches and my favorite thing to do was to scale the back of a van and then leap from the roof of the van to the roof of the garage that it was parked close to. This would allow me to quietly go from one side of the peak of the roof to the other and watch the entire game unfold without being seen.
Sometimes a friend and I would switch shirts and hats so that when the person doing the “tagging” would shine the light on us and call our name, they would have the wrong person and we would be safe.
... Sigh.
What a carefree time. I miss it.
It was a great time of my childhood. I felt so alive then.
Now when I sit on my porch and smell fresh cut grass and watch the fire flies do their illuminated dance around the pond, I often find myself looking around the yard for the best hiding spots.
As soon as Ethan and Nash are old enough, I plan on introducing them to the game that their old man was once the king of.
Although now, I doubt, you will find me climbing into the drainage ditch in the pitch black or leaping around like Spiderman, but I will know the best places to find them.
Bryan Pinkey can be found hiding close to base or at bpinkey@nccox.com.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
7-16-09
Free strikes again: Giving a dog a home comes with a price
Free has struck again. This time, with a vengeance. I think it heard me talking about it last week.
We have a new dog. A “free” one.
I do need to back track a little bit.
We had a real pretty, all white, bird dog my son named Susie. She would run around the yard and hunt dragonflies and crickets all day long. When I was painting motorcycles, she would sit in the shop with me and curl up in the open storage space in the bottom of my rolling tool box.
Although she liked to eat my airbrush hose as I painted, I still liked her.
One day, in the old cemetary across from our house, a funeral was held. That evening, she was gone. Yes, I am blaming someone for taking Susie.
My son was heartbroken. We all were.
Last year, after a year had already gone by since Susie left our family, Ethan asked me, “When is Susie going to come back?”
Do you know how hard it is to tell a four-year-old that his dog is never going to come back?
Well, Leigh and I knew that we were going to have to find another dog.
Fast forward to about two months ago. An opportunity came along for us to adopt a German Shorthaired Pointer.
A young man who had good intentions of hunting a young dog found himself going off to college.
Good for him, good for us. I didn’t want to pay the premium for a bird dog and I prefer to “rescue” a dog anyhow.
After a few phone conversations, a delivery date was set and a rendezvous point was picked, The Pinkey family found itself with a new four-legged member of the family.
Ethan kept telling us that when we got a new dog, he was going to name it Susie. I asked him what its name would be if we got a boy dog.
With a little bit of thought and then a look as if to say, “Dad, there is a tree growing out of your head,” Ethan said, “Susie.”
But When the dog came to live with us, he already had a name. So for now, “Jack” is our dog and Ethan seems to like the name.
I forgot that even “free” dogs come with a price.
We had a hard time keeping Susie in our yard when she was with us... obviously... she is gone. This time around we decided to be proactive about the situation. A hidden fence system was purchased.
I had the honors of installing the system. After laying out the wire and realizing that we needed twice the amount, another trip to the hardware store was in order. While there, small wire nuts, more electrical tape and a new jug of small engine oil for mixing with gas to run the borrowed trenching equipment.
The “free” dog required a bag of food, a collar and, of course, dog bones.
Free. I forgot about the fine print.
I got the wire laid out around the yard, installed batteries in the collar and connected the power source. Everything was working.
After I attached the leash to Jack’s collar, I walked him around the yard and then toward the white flags that indicated the boundary of the “fence.”
I pointed to the flags as we got close and let him hear the beep that the collar was emitting.
Zapp! It shocked him when he walked to the edge.
After a couple of times of this he got the idea that the flags were not a good thing to get close to.
I let him off of the leash and he stayed. Not once did he go to the edge of the yard. I wouldn’t either if I had an electric shock device hooked to my neck!
So our free dog is loving life. He eats his food, hunts dragonflies and sleeps outside of his doghouse.
I do need to read the fine print a little better because I also missed the part about the “free” services that he offers back to us.
Jake has decided to clean up around the outside of the house by getting rid of shoes, forgotten toys and scratching old paint off of the side of the car when he greets us as we come home.
It’s OK, I guess. I needed new shoes and Nash was outgrowing the big wheel anyhow. I think I understand why we didn’t pick the dog up at the owner’s house though. There is a No Return policy on free.
Bryan Pinkey can be found buying rubbing compound, shoes and replacement toys or at bpinkey@nccox.com.
Free has struck again. This time, with a vengeance. I think it heard me talking about it last week.
We have a new dog. A “free” one.
I do need to back track a little bit.
We had a real pretty, all white, bird dog my son named Susie. She would run around the yard and hunt dragonflies and crickets all day long. When I was painting motorcycles, she would sit in the shop with me and curl up in the open storage space in the bottom of my rolling tool box.
Although she liked to eat my airbrush hose as I painted, I still liked her.
One day, in the old cemetary across from our house, a funeral was held. That evening, she was gone. Yes, I am blaming someone for taking Susie.
My son was heartbroken. We all were.
Last year, after a year had already gone by since Susie left our family, Ethan asked me, “When is Susie going to come back?”
Do you know how hard it is to tell a four-year-old that his dog is never going to come back?
Well, Leigh and I knew that we were going to have to find another dog.
Fast forward to about two months ago. An opportunity came along for us to adopt a German Shorthaired Pointer.
A young man who had good intentions of hunting a young dog found himself going off to college.
Good for him, good for us. I didn’t want to pay the premium for a bird dog and I prefer to “rescue” a dog anyhow.
After a few phone conversations, a delivery date was set and a rendezvous point was picked, The Pinkey family found itself with a new four-legged member of the family.
Ethan kept telling us that when we got a new dog, he was going to name it Susie. I asked him what its name would be if we got a boy dog.
With a little bit of thought and then a look as if to say, “Dad, there is a tree growing out of your head,” Ethan said, “Susie.”
But When the dog came to live with us, he already had a name. So for now, “Jack” is our dog and Ethan seems to like the name.
I forgot that even “free” dogs come with a price.
We had a hard time keeping Susie in our yard when she was with us... obviously... she is gone. This time around we decided to be proactive about the situation. A hidden fence system was purchased.
I had the honors of installing the system. After laying out the wire and realizing that we needed twice the amount, another trip to the hardware store was in order. While there, small wire nuts, more electrical tape and a new jug of small engine oil for mixing with gas to run the borrowed trenching equipment.
The “free” dog required a bag of food, a collar and, of course, dog bones.
Free. I forgot about the fine print.
I got the wire laid out around the yard, installed batteries in the collar and connected the power source. Everything was working.
After I attached the leash to Jack’s collar, I walked him around the yard and then toward the white flags that indicated the boundary of the “fence.”
I pointed to the flags as we got close and let him hear the beep that the collar was emitting.
Zapp! It shocked him when he walked to the edge.
After a couple of times of this he got the idea that the flags were not a good thing to get close to.
I let him off of the leash and he stayed. Not once did he go to the edge of the yard. I wouldn’t either if I had an electric shock device hooked to my neck!
So our free dog is loving life. He eats his food, hunts dragonflies and sleeps outside of his doghouse.
I do need to read the fine print a little better because I also missed the part about the “free” services that he offers back to us.
Jake has decided to clean up around the outside of the house by getting rid of shoes, forgotten toys and scratching old paint off of the side of the car when he greets us as we come home.
It’s OK, I guess. I needed new shoes and Nash was outgrowing the big wheel anyhow. I think I understand why we didn’t pick the dog up at the owner’s house though. There is a No Return policy on free.
Bryan Pinkey can be found buying rubbing compound, shoes and replacement toys or at bpinkey@nccox.com.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
7-9-09
My new dirty, four letter word that starts with F is FREE
I love free swag as much and maybe even more than the next guy. I was trained well.
I grew up watching my old man go out of his way to acquire free items. If he heard that you could get free blood from a rock he would walk away with a full pint.
Sam’s Club is the mecca for free samples. My dad and I would go there on a Saturday and walk the aisles. We would visit all of the ladies at the end of each aisle and snack on the free samples they were handing out. The two of us ate everything from shrimp, crackers, trail mix, tuna fish... you name it, we ate it.
The one thing that I quickly started to see is that free comes with a caveat. Free tends to cost you money.
When we would leave Sam’s Club, there was normally a cart full of items that we never really needed. The free food turned into about $150 worth of junk.
Once, when I was in high school, a friend of mine gave me a stereo receiver that he couldn’t get to work. First of all, I am a stereo junkie, second, I am a “free” junkie.
I took the thing apart and checked connections. I couldn’t do anything to get it to work, so I took it to Circuit City. Eighty dollars later it was working.
Now, I can justify the $80 by saying that I saved because the stereo would have cost me about $250 brand new.
My uncle Al made a comment once about lottery tickets that has always stuck with me. When asked if he played the lottery he said, “No. I don’t. I save a dollar every day that I don’t play.”
Such wisdom. It holds true to taking free stuff. If I didn’t take the free items, I would save my money. This pearl didn’t seem to stick for me in this scenario.
Recently a new friend of mine offered me an old pick-up that was junking up his back yard. I am in need of an old truck for the dump and utilitarian needs around the house and ponds.
This nineteen seventy-something Dodge with a police Interceptor engine (that is a real big engine) has the cab redone and runs decent. Buuuut it needs body work, needs to pass inspection, needs insurance, and a new battery and some fresh wiring.
So, once again, here I stand at the proverbial crossroads. Do I take the gift or save my money.
I can’t wait to mash the gas on that old truck!
Something I never gave much thought about in this arena is children. Technically, they are free but, man, do they come with a price tag!
First you have to pay to bring them safely into the world. Diapers, clothing and toys follow. Add in a little bit of day care, school pictures and snack money.
You would think that as they got older that maybe they would get cheaper to maintain. Wrong. They break more stuff. Now you are maintaining children and broken toys.
One thing I have found out is that children like to play with stereo equipment. They also like to pull the knobs off of free stereo equipment.
My old trusty free stereo might end up costing me some more money in new repairs but as long as it doesn’t go over $250, I am still saving, right? Maybe I’ll even save enough to afford a free truck.
Bryan Pinkey can be reached at bpinkey@nccox.com and an archive at jbryanpinkey.blogspot.com.
I love free swag as much and maybe even more than the next guy. I was trained well.
I grew up watching my old man go out of his way to acquire free items. If he heard that you could get free blood from a rock he would walk away with a full pint.
Sam’s Club is the mecca for free samples. My dad and I would go there on a Saturday and walk the aisles. We would visit all of the ladies at the end of each aisle and snack on the free samples they were handing out. The two of us ate everything from shrimp, crackers, trail mix, tuna fish... you name it, we ate it.
The one thing that I quickly started to see is that free comes with a caveat. Free tends to cost you money.
When we would leave Sam’s Club, there was normally a cart full of items that we never really needed. The free food turned into about $150 worth of junk.
Once, when I was in high school, a friend of mine gave me a stereo receiver that he couldn’t get to work. First of all, I am a stereo junkie, second, I am a “free” junkie.
I took the thing apart and checked connections. I couldn’t do anything to get it to work, so I took it to Circuit City. Eighty dollars later it was working.
Now, I can justify the $80 by saying that I saved because the stereo would have cost me about $250 brand new.
My uncle Al made a comment once about lottery tickets that has always stuck with me. When asked if he played the lottery he said, “No. I don’t. I save a dollar every day that I don’t play.”
Such wisdom. It holds true to taking free stuff. If I didn’t take the free items, I would save my money. This pearl didn’t seem to stick for me in this scenario.
Recently a new friend of mine offered me an old pick-up that was junking up his back yard. I am in need of an old truck for the dump and utilitarian needs around the house and ponds.
This nineteen seventy-something Dodge with a police Interceptor engine (that is a real big engine) has the cab redone and runs decent. Buuuut it needs body work, needs to pass inspection, needs insurance, and a new battery and some fresh wiring.
So, once again, here I stand at the proverbial crossroads. Do I take the gift or save my money.
I can’t wait to mash the gas on that old truck!
Something I never gave much thought about in this arena is children. Technically, they are free but, man, do they come with a price tag!
First you have to pay to bring them safely into the world. Diapers, clothing and toys follow. Add in a little bit of day care, school pictures and snack money.
You would think that as they got older that maybe they would get cheaper to maintain. Wrong. They break more stuff. Now you are maintaining children and broken toys.
One thing I have found out is that children like to play with stereo equipment. They also like to pull the knobs off of free stereo equipment.
My old trusty free stereo might end up costing me some more money in new repairs but as long as it doesn’t go over $250, I am still saving, right? Maybe I’ll even save enough to afford a free truck.
Bryan Pinkey can be reached at bpinkey@nccox.com and an archive at jbryanpinkey.blogspot.com.
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