Three Things I Never Taught My Sons
It’s funny how time has changed things so much. When I was a kid, we were taught things by our parents. We played outside a lot and didn’t have much time left over for idleness. I had a little nostalgic pang this morning and realized there are a lot of things I’ve never taught my sons. Here are three.
How to Whittle
When I was a kid, we all had pocket knives. If a kid has a pocket knife now and brings it to school, the Department of Homeland Security gets called and the kid is tossed from school permanently for bringing a “weapon” to school. My dad taught me how to whittle. Every kid where he grew up in Western Pennsylvania (coal and steel country) knew how to whittle. I got my first knife when I was five. My guys have never gotten a knife.

[Photo credit: Mark Schoneveld]
How to Fish
When I was 8 years old or so, my dad took me to Lake Michigan at about 5 in the morning. We had two fishing poles and some worms we’d dug up right after it got dark the night before. We’d thrown them in a Styrofoam cup along with some dirt from where we dug them up. That first morning he taught me how to bait the hook with half an earthworm (don’t ask). Then we caught yellow perch. And lots of them. That was his fishing lesson for me. Then he said, “You can walk to the Lake yourself from now on.” My friends and I used to catch a lot of perch when we were 8, 9 and 10 years old. Can you imagine letting your kid go out while it’s still dark to sit on a pier and catch fish with old men?

[Photo credit: Rickydavid]
How to Make a Slingshot
We played a lot of “War” when I was a kid. We lived near a park that had a huge ravine, and we used the side of that steep hill as our little slice of Vietnam. (The war was in full gear when I was at that impressionable age where we ordered G.I. Joe dog tags from comic books and were willing to wait 6 weeks for shipping and delivery. Really , we had no choice.) We built “bottle cap guns” out of broom handles, rubber bands, and clothes pins; we made pungee sticks (don’t ask); and we each had our very best, homemade slingshot. We’d search high and low for the strongest tree branch that had a great Y in it. We’d cut up old pieces of car inner tube tires (yeah, they used to have those) and use the tongues of old sneakers for the pocket. Mostly we used rocks and shot them at each other. One kid’s dad had a box of ball bearings. Things got serious in our “War” games after that (don’t ask).

[Photo credit: Speakeasy]
Posted on August 23, 2008
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