Monday, September 25, 2017


It was another time, of course -- a time when young and arguably manly men -- owned/needed/carried a jack knife. It was not a time when every cough and hiccup resulted in a trip to a medical unit of some kind or mothers cooed and gawped and expressed dismay that little Johnny might hurt himself. A knife?! An actual knife?! My child?! It was a time when blood, in one form or another, was part of growing up and care-givers were adept at their own versions of triage.

It was a time when summer months were hot and languorous and you needed something to make you laugh and time to pass. Something like mumblety-peg. Where the hell did it get that name? Who knows? It wasn't the most exciting pastime, but it was something to make time pass.

Here's Wikipedia on the subject. And a more loose-limbed description.

Actually, I think it wasall a bit boring, but when contrasted with those who are Miracle-Glued to their "apps," perhaps it is just a bit of genius gone begging. Blood, after all, has a certain serious quotient.

1 comment:

  1. In my youth I whittled, though never achieving much more than staying busy.