And what country can preserve its liberties if their rulers are not warned from time to time that their people preserve the spirit of resistance? Let them take arms. The remedy is to set them right as to facts, pardon and pacify them. What signify a few lives lost in a century or two? The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants.
Yeah, the kind with metal wheels. Can't remember if it was 2x4 or 2x6. An uncle made them for a couple of us adventurous cousins. Suburban downhill street crossing a flat street continuing downhill into a swim club parking lot that was also mostly a downhill that eventually sort of leveled off near the back/bottom.
Not much grip with steel wheels! Lots of sparklers when 4 wheel drifting around clumps of parked cars. The other kids usually started near the entrance, but I would start at the top of the first hill section to get enough speed to get to the far side of the parking lot. Sliding those wheels bled off some energy, but at my speed that was the only way it would steer.
I'm thinking that sort of talent for pushing the handling envelope of a "vehicle" might be genetically based. Years later I found out my dad was a stock car racer during his early marriage years, when they raced on dirt tracks. He was good, but a mechanical failure while leading a race got his attention. No money in it at that time, and he had a family to support. All my sisters seemed to be equally competent handling moving objects: cars, trucks, boats, motorcycles, and horses. One had her own bike, a Yamaha RD-350. I eventually got into roadracing motorcycles, but had to quit after a medical screwup caused some brain damage.
Dad never said anything about racing, but I found out when I started working after school at the shop that used to build his race cars. Surprise!
Mom detailed the story of his decision to quit racing. The differential blew in the middle of a turn while leading, and he came to a stop in the middle of the track facing the rest of the pack heading towards him.
My first skate board was a 2x4 with one roller skate nailed on the bottom, early 60's.
ReplyDeleteYeah, the kind with metal wheels. Can't remember if it was 2x4 or 2x6. An uncle made them for a couple of us adventurous cousins. Suburban downhill street crossing a flat street continuing downhill into a swim club parking lot that was also mostly a downhill that eventually sort of leveled off near the back/bottom.
DeleteNot much grip with steel wheels! Lots of sparklers when 4 wheel drifting around clumps of parked cars. The other kids usually started near the entrance, but I would start at the top of the first hill section to get enough speed to get to the far side of the parking lot. Sliding those wheels bled off some energy, but at my speed that was the only way it would steer.
I'm thinking that sort of talent for pushing the handling envelope of a "vehicle" might be genetically based. Years later I found out my dad was a stock car racer during his early marriage years, when they raced on dirt tracks. He was good, but a mechanical failure while leading a race got his attention. No money in it at that time, and he had a family to support. All my sisters seemed to be equally competent handling moving objects: cars, trucks, boats, motorcycles, and horses. One had her own bike, a Yamaha RD-350. I eventually got into roadracing motorcycles, but had to quit after a medical screwup caused some brain damage.
Dad never said anything about racing, but I found out when I started working after school at the shop that used to build his race cars. Surprise!
DeleteMom detailed the story of his decision to quit racing. The differential blew in the middle of a turn while leading, and he came to a stop in the middle of the track facing the rest of the pack heading towards him.
Back in the mid-60's they were called "sidewalk surf boards" in and around my hometown.
ReplyDeleteThose were the days. And it was okay to be White.
ReplyDeleteToo bad for her feet Van's hadn't been invented yet
ReplyDeleteBeing white is superior! And everybody knows it. That's why they're so jealous. They know they never will be. HA HA HA HAAAAA
ReplyDelete"Good way to break your neck" was my Dad's catchphrase.
ReplyDelete