tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14474631.post1656873218589920562..comments2023-10-19T05:40:59.162-04:00Comments on Sippican Cottage: (Gagdad Bob Has Got Me Thinking Of) Bog HockeySippicanCottagehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14940797380578921776noreply@blogger.comBlogger5125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14474631.post-62763879848584766532010-09-21T20:54:06.487-04:002010-09-21T20:54:06.487-04:00This comment has been removed by the author.H. Gillhamhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16866823621648796335noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14474631.post-40448965793972127792010-09-21T20:54:05.557-04:002010-09-21T20:54:05.557-04:00I loved this --
We played a game called Fox and t...I loved this --<br /><br />We played a game called Fox and the Hounds --- I have no idea if we made it up or not. It was a game with loose rules, but was all about being all over the neighborhood -- in folks' backyards, climbing fences, and hiding in unlocked cars, hoping not to be found by the other team.<br /><br />My parents never checked on us -- we ran wild until dark. Only then would my mother make us come in, as she was afraid we would bang into something in the dark and have brain damage.<br /><br />I hate to sound cliche -- but it sure seemed simpler then.H. Gillhamhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16866823621648796335noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14474631.post-69877451763693983152010-09-20T10:26:42.421-04:002010-09-20T10:26:42.421-04:00Born in 1951, grew up in Needham. We'd go out...Born in 1951, grew up in Needham. We'd go out in the fall and stomp down the cattails in the charles river flood plain alongside route 128. Cross the highway on the railroad tracks and play swamp hockey dawn till dusk; the more adept skaters would hop over the stalks and sticks frozen in the ice, the less so would trip a lot.<br /><br />In fall, we'd play a game called either Russian Smuck (cold war days) or rush and smuck, not sure, no written playbooks. Any number of kids from 4 or 5 or so or up into the twenties (easily achieved with the large catholic families); all that was needed was a field and a football. The player with the ball would toss it backwards over his head, no peeking, into a scrum of all the other kids; whoever caught it would head forward towards the end of the field and everyone else was charged with smucking him. Pig piles were encouraged. Points were awarded for reaching the end, but never remembered. Turn around and head the other way. Repeat all day.<br /><br />Life was good. And inexpensive.Unknownhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06855752091921494701noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14474631.post-7879245992584997902010-09-19T12:34:24.547-04:002010-09-19T12:34:24.547-04:00There was a guy in our neighborhood that always dr...There was a guy in our neighborhood that always drove a brand new Cadillac. When we were in grade-school, we thought he was rich, although he lived in a dumpy split-level with a carport like everyone else. A very heavy woman, always wearing an apron, would greet him at the door when he arrived home. We thought she was his maid.<br /><br />He worked at a car dealership, so he got to drive a car from the lot home every day. His "maid" was his wife. Such is the knowledge of children in these matters.SippicanCottagehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14940797380578921776noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14474631.post-51466873260493669692010-09-18T15:57:01.956-04:002010-09-18T15:57:01.956-04:00I must have played either baseball, football, or b...I must have played either baseball, football, or basketball nearly every single day from ages 9 to 16 or so. There was no park nearby, so we played baseball in the street. Interestingly, people who parked their cars in the street knew that they were doing so at their own peril. Seems inconceivable now, but back then, people didn't seem to care all that much about their cars. There might be one old grouch who would bark about it if his car got hit, but today you'd probably get arrested or shot.<br /><br />I also don't remember anyone caring about what anyone's father did for a living. Nor do I remember any of my friends ever talking about "the future."Gagdad Bobhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14249005793605006679noreply@blogger.com