Sir Kenny

Long before computers, video games, a tv in every room, and movies on demand entertainment was easy to find. If the weather was halfway decent, most everyone was outside doing something. The grownups, if not working, were sitting under the shade tree sit with their feet propped up on the tree trunk. The younger kids were pushing 2x4 blocks around in the sand, pretending that they were dump trucks and cars. You could make a nice road with high ditches on each side. Others were shooting marbles around a ring drawn in the sand. A big shooter was a prized possession. Some were playing ball, with the stitches coming loose and the leather held on by hay wire wrapped around it. Grandpa's place would have fallen apart if it were not for hay wire. On cold days he would sit under the shed, the sunlight flooding over him and warming him up, pulling nails from old lumber. Banging them with a hammer to get them straight again. It was an art that he had perfected over the years, and very few of them got tossed away. Growing up in hard times made him use what he had and to thrive at it.
We were friend with the Nowell boys, who had horses that we all rode. Way back then all the roads were dirt and riding horses on the road was safe. Well, from being hit by cars anyway. You know that two young boys, such as Kenny and myself, and two horses were headed for fun for us, but fear for our parents. We had ridden for hours and the poor horses were worn out, when we found some cardboard tubes about six feet long, that roll linoleum came in, laying in the ditch beside the road. The magic number was 2 and the light shined on both of us at the same time.
He grabbed one, put it on his left arm, and rode off about 30 feet. I took the other one, put it on my left arm, and turned to face him. At the count of three(no one there to blow a trumpet or even to witness the spectacle) we dug off at each other. My legs, being longer than his, allowed me to wrap around the horses belly and stay on him. It did not however, lessen the impact and I can still feel the pain in my chest where the tube hit. Poor Kenny, though did not fare as well. He hit the ground with a thud and a curse. When I got my breath back, I laughed long and hard; so did he, albeit not as genuine as mine. He challenged me to another match, but common sense prevailed and I declined. I'm sure that he wanted to knock me off that horse and I'm sure that he would have. Maybe video games are safer.