Author: 610rrandtr

Who knew? I mentioned earlier that the basketball hoop in the playground changed everything. Here’s why. All dwellings in the lower regions of middle earth had small driveways, and the higher numbers on my street were on a steep hill. Few had basketball hoops attached to garages, due to thin driveways and most of them… Continue reading Just One Basketball Hoop

Let’s tie this thread up…. I said child, child staring into the streetlightMessed up child lonely boy tonightKick the wall turn the street and back againOh boy you’ve been forgotten The old man began silencing the TV at night, then sitting at the kitchen table with a calculator, counting his money just like Scrooge–how much… Continue reading After the trauma….

“I Guess you want to go show off your bike to your friends.” Not exactly, dickhead. But I smiled and rode off. But instead of the playground, I went to the deserted elementary school I had just left a few days ago. There, I sat down and cried like never before. Real body-shaking, dripping tears,… Continue reading Strike 3 (part 3)

We could build cell on cell/Mainline him straight to hell/But that would not dispel violent men, hardheaded women/Unloved Children Act 2 takes place here (Wolvertons): long torn down I had to think fast. No way to change the future, I was an inmate. Must smile, be the best actor anyone ever saw. A few days… Continue reading Strike 3 (Part 2)

Our theme song for this bloodbath (I love you Tommy): It was June, sixth grade had just finished. My grandmother had been dead for almost a year. My bike was two years old. The old man came home and after dinner, said to me, “How would you like a new bike? “No,” I said. “I… Continue reading The Final Strike (Part One)

Sorry, gotta ‘get real’ for a sec I will be telling a sobering story in the next few posts. There’s no humor here; no laughing at my father the buffoon. This will be the completion of the ‘three strikes’ on daddy. It’s a tale of mental abuse and lasting damage. After this, he was not… Continue reading Announcement about next posts

I can hear you now: ‘WTF is this boomer talking about??” Fiction was king in the 60’s. No, I’m not talking about fictional tabloid stories about the English monarchy or Hollywood actresses. I mean books. JFK even endorsed Ian Fleming’s Bond novels. There have always been English crime novels, led of course by the prolific… Continue reading The Hardy Boys

WTF!!! My father had one brother that was near his age; he lived in the Poconos. They never got along, even from their childhood. He had several children; I often think that the only reason daddy ever had me was that his brother had just finished having his fifth. Can’t fall behind his brother. The… Continue reading Who the hell puts salt on Watermelon?

Oh, how embarrassing….. Everywhere you look in schools today, there are banners with slogans telling kids how great they are and how they are welcomed. Not in the sixties–no banners, no nothing. The teacher welcomed you first day and that was it. You had low self-esteem, deal with it. A school’s job is not to… Continue reading No Bumper Stickers (poor us)

The field trip to end all. I mentioned our sixth grade teacher was very involved with local history. We had our first ever final exam in June on history of the county and the state pf PA. But before that, we took a field trip like we’d never had before. All over the county–6 or… Continue reading Gambling with your young life and the film ‘Sorcerer’