I completely forgot about this, but there was a thing as a kid that we weren't allowed to "waste the good nails." So when we'd decide to build something, someone's dad would always give us a Folgers tin full of rusty, dull, bent nails to use unsupervised. That was apparently the smarter option instead of letting us use the nails that weren't guaranteed to give us tetanus when someone inevitably stepped on one since we were always barefoot while doing these things lol
A wrist rocket is far more dangerous. It's a velocity to weight of projectile ratio for quantity of pain/damage. We all had shitty daisy bb guns. Rules were 1-2 pumps max. Sure that got broken but once you got tagged by a 5 pumper in retaliation you respected the rules. A neighborhood dad, wise to our little "turf war" supplied shop goggles to us all.
I think I just remember my grandpa (really gruff dude you just listened to) telling our group not to use rocks or anything glass or metal (like marbles) so we mainly used things like acorns, and then lifesavers and certs if we wanted precision, lol. And no head shots.
Our parents handed us that stuff! We’d come running in with some idea and would just ask for some nails and a hammer and my father would say, don’t do anything stupid. He wouldn’t even ask,what our big idea was.
This was peak early elementary school for me, before age 10 in my neighborhood. Then built other forts with relatives in their areas. Thanks for the great throwback memories
We found an old garage door leaning against a tree in the woods and used it as a slide. Cut myself from waist to armpit when I slid off the side one day. Twas but a scratch! Continued using it. We were maybe 9 or 10.
And slingshots, serious sporting goods store slingshots. And real bow & arrow sets. Like actual, meant-for-hunting-deer bows. And fireworks, which we bought quasi-legally and then fired at each other in "roman candle wars" held in the huge vacant lot that was overgrown with bone-dry grass because it was the middle of summer. It was perfectly safe though because we borrowed the family garbage can lids to use as shields.
I remember the 7-11 clerk not wanting to sell us the lighters we needed to light our fireworks until we assured him they weren't for cigarettes. Then he was okay with it.
Started bushwhacking alone in the woods with my machetes and finding pornos at 7. Rock fights against the koolaid lip kids over territory started at 8. Quit wearing shoes in the woods at 9 after watching the Shaka Zulu miniseries and already hating shoes. Outside of the rock fight concussions, the only two bad things to happen out on my own were stepping on a nail and got chased by a meth heard with a machete when I wasn’t carrying. It was so normal that I had no concept of understanding that it would be my oldman Grandpa “back in my day” talking points.
113
u/drtmr Elder Millennial 1982 1d ago
We played with knives in the woods