One of the great things about being a writer of ghost stuff is going to cons all over the place…and then buying books there. An example of this happened in Louisville for Fandom Fest last month. I bought a copy of Weird Kentucky and saw a story about the alleys of Louisville and how great they were for dumpster diving (for trash to treasure folks) and for avoiding traffic. This reminded me of my story Creek Walking and of the joys of what we called “back alleys” on the mill hill. The best ones were paved and offered all manner of fun… some offered spots for rock (and root) climbing training; others offered ideal spots for showing off a la Evel Kenevel. All allowed preteens to travel from one end of town to the other unobstructed and we thought unobserved, hence their popularity for smoking and underage drinking, when we could swipe a beer or two. The only threats we worried about was the occasional unfriendly dog, garbage trucks, and the rare case of double parking, since most folks just parked on the street in front of their houses, especially after the old wooden garages were outgrown by the land yachts folks drove in the late 70s. When I’m home visiting my parents, I still get to drive on the one behind their place and it always takes me back to being that boy with the bowl cut and cigarette, riding his ten-speed back from the library through the mill parking lot with his books in a bag over the handlebars, saying to himself, “Ya know, if I put a big enough ramp at the bottom of this hill and the gravel didn’t mess it up, I bet I could jump over the kudzu, creek AND highway and then just ride on over to Mama’s…”
One of these days, I will need to try that. I wonder what Blue Cross would say about that. Of course I can guess what the wife would say… and I’d need a new bike. Ten-speeds don’t like Buicks, but that’s a tale for another time.
Next…more cheap music playlists…
Oh, honey… please don’t attempt that stunt. Have a child and put the bug in his ear. Kids heal faster, and hospital stays are much shorter.
And I know exactly what your wife would say… in addition to you needing a new bike (and probably a new head, hip, hand, and knee), you would more than likely need a new place to live.
Heck, I couldn’t do it, unless some one has invented a teleporter. And you might be surprised…
I can say with certainty that you would need a new place to live. But I know what you mean about the backalley thing. Its kind of sad that kids don’t know the magic of playing outside in the summertime. Now people are afraid to let their kids go outside, much less walk through the nearest backalley….
Don’t stay up worrying about it…the jump is about a mile…and I wasn’t crazy enough to try it back when I could have healed up afterwards.