Miscalculation

I was 8 years old and it was another typical 100 degree day that summer of 1947.The dusty central valley of California has many days around 100 in July.Sometimes 100 dgrees is more pleasant than it can be when it gets serious about it.Many days my dad and my uncle would seek respite from the heat in one of the dark little bars in town to have a few beers.Little places that still had the original decor from the 1920s and 30s with beer signs that looked like they had little waterfalls with mountain backdrops-the places you wish you were instead of WHERE you are.The solid oak -timbered bars,the old men mumbling and laughing over their card games in the small back room.,the unused pool tables in the early afternoon gloom.
Many times they would take me with them and I would sit and drink a Shirley Temple with a cherry stuck right in it and listen to them talk about whatever grownups talked about in those days.The heat.How the crops were going to fare this year..A trip to the coast to enjoy the coastal air.A grownup cannot take a child into a bar now to sit beside them and drink a Shirly Temple(do they still make those?Might the name be that of some modern child star?)But that was the 40s for you.
The incident in question,the miscalculation ,was about to unfold before my very young eyes and would forever,even to this day ,remind me that a person never knows with whom they're dealing. After an hour or so in the bar and a couple of the aformentioned oversweetened drinks,I followed my dad and his brother out into the heat and we piled into my uncles car,a brand new black four door Lincoln--a car that even a child like I was could see was a very beautifull and classy vehicle--and of which my uncle was very proud. As we backed into the street,a car came around the corner from behind the Lincoln going much ,much too fast and then-- a simultaneous jolt and horrendous noise -created that what I now would call a zen moment where nothing existed except the noise and motion as we lurched forward from the collision.

Here the miscalculation was set in motion by the actions of the six men in the offending car,for whom a serious lesson was about to be learned.The men were out of their car in what seemed like a split second ,hollering cusswords ,swinging their fists around wildly, running toward the Lincoln and making their intentions very clear--they were going to kick some serious ass right then and there and were going to do it NOW!!

I suppose this would be a good time-to explain why the overly excited gentlemen in the other car were about to learn a lesson and did not know with whom they were dealing--the moral of this tale.A lesson we all may want to take to heart.

When my uncle was a young man,he was a solid 6 feet three inches tall,235 pounds and had 10 professional heavy weight boxing matches of which he won --10.My dad was as big and was his trainer.My uncle only quit the game because my aunt gave him an ultimatum---"me or boxing". Well what ya' gonna' do?However,this pugilistic experience proved in pretty short order to be the reason the street was soon littered with bodies in a state of repose that was the talk of bystanders for years to come .One pulled a knife and my uncle blocked his thrust deftly and followed it with a right that put him through the window of the town poolhall .It almost looked choreogaphed.Without going into all the details of the punching,kicking and shouting I will say that I don't know exactly how each man held off three fools apiece--and got them all knocked out---but by god they did it.

I miss those days of the 40s.Uncle and dad dead and gone.Never could take my kids into a little bar to have a beer and sit with'em while they drank a Shirley Temple or two.I wonder what ever happened to all those guys that learned a valuable lesson that day--a lesson that I never forgot.Do not fuck with people when you are in the wrong.And maybe not even if you're in the right. You just never know who they might be.

 

could you sum that up in a single sentence? lol.. We're all stoned in here..

 

No where not, this isn't the stoners lounge.

 

Sure.Fuck with a bull--you get the horns.

 

it was moved..

 

oo

 

I read it with interest. Hopefully, you can post more.

 

oo

 

What was? This forum has never been in the Stoner's Lounge if that's what you mean. Get over yourself and go back to SL and hide from us mutants.

Scratcho, I've seen Shirley Temples on the menu at some of the restaurants around here. I've never had one, though...not so sure I want it, sounds too sweet for me.

 

Yeah-but a kid needs his sugar!Try one --I dare ya.

 

Are they good?

 

Actually they are pretty good.

 

I read it

I liked it

please post more stories

 

Thanks B--I will.

 

One time my grandfather was backing out of a driveway and almost hit a guy on a pedal bike...the guy was a real ass ....acting tough big guy because his family was with him...he kept telling my grandfather to hit him.....so he finally did...a real good one too .....turned out the guy was an off duty constable.....

when all was said and done the assaulting an offficer charges were dropped and the officer was diciplined..he got a small unpaid vacation and a bruised ego

 

That brings a whole new meaning to corn hole!Or in this case-horn hole!

 

Good for grampa,BBad.Seems stupid to ask someone to hit ya'--there's too many around that would be happy to.

 

Especially him....he was an industrial mechanic with a hell of an arm...I can just imagine the smile on his face when he swung...a definite miscalculation on the other guys part

 

Shirley Temple's are bomb KR
U should try one