Arkie John
Active member
The year was about 1962 when me and my buddies were about 14 or so. The place was the Thomas Road neighbor and everywhere around it for a half mile or so.
We had all grown up together and knew each other very well--all the strong points and all the quirks. We knew who we could bluff and who we had to beware of. I reckon it was all about establishing the peckin' order of Thomas Road.
About this time of year there was a kind of unofficial tug o war between Gary Carter, Douglas Allen and yours truly for the godfather status of Thomas Road. Although Butch was never in contention,we always let him hang around. His grandmother was nice to us and HE had a little money once in a while--even more cars and parts than any of the two of us combined. We were all trying to out-maneuver each other when we were around each other and especially around our newly budding gal friends. Oh yeah. But this story deals with the rivalry between us 'men.'
In and amongst our internal jousting one morning, we each failed to notice a moving truck parked at Ola Hawkins' old house. We were just too busy to go see just WHO would be movin' into OUR domain. Besides it wouldn't take long to have them dancin' to our tune, you know.
One Saturday morning we were all three huddled around Butch Sherman's grandmother's house, preoccupied with our AMT and Revelle 1/25th scale model cars. We'd show off our newest car but the most fun was takin' our OLD parts and combinin' them with parts from somebody elses collection, tradin' and swappin like a bunch of gypsies.
Now you can imagine the look on our faces and the ire the situation brought when we, while out on Butch's grandmother's front porch, to hear this bellarin' laugh and see a look of disdain from this strange boy coming down the hill of south Thomas Road on his 5-foot tall bicycle, no hands, just lookin' down his big fat nose at US! Why, none of US had given this bird permission to ride in OUR neighborhood.
Son, with simultaneous unceremonious and uncoordinated chunkin,'
the model cars and parts were plunked into a common box and we were on our feet, tightenin' our belts, ready to go open a can of whup-a$$ real quick. We'd take no prisoners, by gawd. Thinkin' back, we probably looked like the three stooges, each slappin' and pushin' each other around, not really knowin' what to do or who was on first.
But we found our little ole obnoxious selves marchin' single file across the street, ready for this confrontation with the new idiot and to just see how HE could have a bike SO tall.
As we approached, Doug, the bigger (and dumber) of the three of us, suddenly gulped and we could tell--to your complete surprise--from his body language that he all of a sudden, became a little less sure of himself. Well, let me tell you, if DOUGLAS was unsure of HIMSELF, that meant that we were probably going to be in a world of hurt very shortly.
Oh yeah. We approached this kid with our poker faces on anyway and arms crossed. With an Elvis-type sneer, Allen said, "just what the h3ll was THAT all about, comin' down OUR street and all?" The new kid said, "Who you talkin' to, boy? ...and the idgets behind you." I fuzzed up like an ole' hen. Who was HE callin' 'idget' anyways?
Well, those were fightin' words back then. I mean we were tough and could pi$$ over automobiles back then and thangs were got goin' the way the warlords of the neightborhood wanted them to go, so we had to FIX it, right? Yeah, right.
This kid unfolded out of a chair real quick like and blowed up like a balloon, all puffed up like a frog readdy to jump on our bodies. He looked like Tarzan. He was four inches taller than Douglas and muscled up like no tomorrow. He also musta had some Indian in him because he had a deep color to him. With a bur cut and close-centered eyes, this kid was mean, and we knew it. I had seen him at school and knew he could fight like Marcianno and I was quickly gettin' my fill of this anyways. I thank I ceded my part of the kingship right then and thar.
Even though there were three of us, we lost our nerve, big time. We quit actin' stupid real quick after we'd sized him up. Now in survival mode, I says, "Hey, how the h3ll did you git that bike so tall anyways?" It worked. I mean it was like throwin' red meat to a hungry lion. He took the bait and we were off the hook for now. Alls it cost us was our pride, you see. Allen and Carter were sweatin' bullets and Butch was runnin' full out back to his grandma's house by now, but the deversion seemed to work.
He started in, tellin' us his name was Lonnie and that he had moved from town (four miles away). Then he went on a ten-minute tare on how he took his bike frame and turned it up-side-down and lengthened the chain and reinstalled the seat and handlebars on the bottom side of the bike, givin' it the tallness he needed to keep away from the city dogs that had to be dealth with.
Still in survival mode, we looked that contraption over and said, "Well, heck Lonnie, this is so good you ought to take it up to the Benton Courier (the local rag) and let THEM see it. (This would get him out of our hair and his mind off of systematically wantin' to whup our a$$es but good. Now folks, he was big and ugly--just like Douglas Allen, but he was not the sharpest knife in the drawer, if you get my drift. (again, like Allen) Well, he swelled up with pride because now the former wanna-be kings of Thomas Road had built him up with all these fine acalades about how good his bike looked yada yada yada, he plum forgot that he had been genuinely insulted by the three jesters of Thomas Road.
It was a good day. Soon, we saw him take off, heading for Benton. We each breathed a collective sigh of relief. The masacer on Thomas Road was not to be that day. None of us would be the king of the hill, but for some reason, it had lost its luster.
All was not lost though. Even though the new kid was the top dog...and each of us lost our bids to be the godfather, it was only temporary.
You see, before we could ever get used to this creep...before we ever had to really deal with him, other than avoid his mean-a$$ stares, before there was any of our blood shed on the blacktop of Thomas Road, ole' Lonnie-boy was up and moved AGAIN. WHOOOOOOORAYYY!!!!
A few Saturday mornings later, it was as ole' Lonnie-boy had never set foot on "our" domain. We all kinda forgot about how we chickened out that day...except one day when I reminded ole Douglas of how he looked so stupid with egg on his face. But, that is another story indeed.
Ole' Butch, probably smarter than any of us kids ever gave him credit for, to our delight, brought out all those car parts and as we dug in, he'd just grab a part every so often and then glance over his shoulder and jump at the drop of a hat.
"Gimme that enjun, Garrett!" Allen demanded. "Go suck a root, dumba$$" Carter said as he glared. I'm thinkin' "you idiots just bow to the king and life will be a little less complicated on Thomas Road today." Yup, things were back to normal.
I hope you had a great time on Thomas Road today. It was a disputed little kingdom but a very important part of Johnny-boy's growin' up years. <><
We had all grown up together and knew each other very well--all the strong points and all the quirks. We knew who we could bluff and who we had to beware of. I reckon it was all about establishing the peckin' order of Thomas Road.
About this time of year there was a kind of unofficial tug o war between Gary Carter, Douglas Allen and yours truly for the godfather status of Thomas Road. Although Butch was never in contention,we always let him hang around. His grandmother was nice to us and HE had a little money once in a while--even more cars and parts than any of the two of us combined. We were all trying to out-maneuver each other when we were around each other and especially around our newly budding gal friends. Oh yeah. But this story deals with the rivalry between us 'men.'
In and amongst our internal jousting one morning, we each failed to notice a moving truck parked at Ola Hawkins' old house. We were just too busy to go see just WHO would be movin' into OUR domain. Besides it wouldn't take long to have them dancin' to our tune, you know.
One Saturday morning we were all three huddled around Butch Sherman's grandmother's house, preoccupied with our AMT and Revelle 1/25th scale model cars. We'd show off our newest car but the most fun was takin' our OLD parts and combinin' them with parts from somebody elses collection, tradin' and swappin like a bunch of gypsies.
Now you can imagine the look on our faces and the ire the situation brought when we, while out on Butch's grandmother's front porch, to hear this bellarin' laugh and see a look of disdain from this strange boy coming down the hill of south Thomas Road on his 5-foot tall bicycle, no hands, just lookin' down his big fat nose at US! Why, none of US had given this bird permission to ride in OUR neighborhood.
Son, with simultaneous unceremonious and uncoordinated chunkin,'
the model cars and parts were plunked into a common box and we were on our feet, tightenin' our belts, ready to go open a can of whup-a$$ real quick. We'd take no prisoners, by gawd. Thinkin' back, we probably looked like the three stooges, each slappin' and pushin' each other around, not really knowin' what to do or who was on first.
But we found our little ole obnoxious selves marchin' single file across the street, ready for this confrontation with the new idiot and to just see how HE could have a bike SO tall.
As we approached, Doug, the bigger (and dumber) of the three of us, suddenly gulped and we could tell--to your complete surprise--from his body language that he all of a sudden, became a little less sure of himself. Well, let me tell you, if DOUGLAS was unsure of HIMSELF, that meant that we were probably going to be in a world of hurt very shortly.
Oh yeah. We approached this kid with our poker faces on anyway and arms crossed. With an Elvis-type sneer, Allen said, "just what the h3ll was THAT all about, comin' down OUR street and all?" The new kid said, "Who you talkin' to, boy? ...and the idgets behind you." I fuzzed up like an ole' hen. Who was HE callin' 'idget' anyways?
Well, those were fightin' words back then. I mean we were tough and could pi$$ over automobiles back then and thangs were got goin' the way the warlords of the neightborhood wanted them to go, so we had to FIX it, right? Yeah, right.
This kid unfolded out of a chair real quick like and blowed up like a balloon, all puffed up like a frog readdy to jump on our bodies. He looked like Tarzan. He was four inches taller than Douglas and muscled up like no tomorrow. He also musta had some Indian in him because he had a deep color to him. With a bur cut and close-centered eyes, this kid was mean, and we knew it. I had seen him at school and knew he could fight like Marcianno and I was quickly gettin' my fill of this anyways. I thank I ceded my part of the kingship right then and thar.
Even though there were three of us, we lost our nerve, big time. We quit actin' stupid real quick after we'd sized him up. Now in survival mode, I says, "Hey, how the h3ll did you git that bike so tall anyways?" It worked. I mean it was like throwin' red meat to a hungry lion. He took the bait and we were off the hook for now. Alls it cost us was our pride, you see. Allen and Carter were sweatin' bullets and Butch was runnin' full out back to his grandma's house by now, but the deversion seemed to work.
He started in, tellin' us his name was Lonnie and that he had moved from town (four miles away). Then he went on a ten-minute tare on how he took his bike frame and turned it up-side-down and lengthened the chain and reinstalled the seat and handlebars on the bottom side of the bike, givin' it the tallness he needed to keep away from the city dogs that had to be dealth with.
Still in survival mode, we looked that contraption over and said, "Well, heck Lonnie, this is so good you ought to take it up to the Benton Courier (the local rag) and let THEM see it. (This would get him out of our hair and his mind off of systematically wantin' to whup our a$$es but good. Now folks, he was big and ugly--just like Douglas Allen, but he was not the sharpest knife in the drawer, if you get my drift. (again, like Allen) Well, he swelled up with pride because now the former wanna-be kings of Thomas Road had built him up with all these fine acalades about how good his bike looked yada yada yada, he plum forgot that he had been genuinely insulted by the three jesters of Thomas Road.
It was a good day. Soon, we saw him take off, heading for Benton. We each breathed a collective sigh of relief. The masacer on Thomas Road was not to be that day. None of us would be the king of the hill, but for some reason, it had lost its luster.
All was not lost though. Even though the new kid was the top dog...and each of us lost our bids to be the godfather, it was only temporary.
You see, before we could ever get used to this creep...before we ever had to really deal with him, other than avoid his mean-a$$ stares, before there was any of our blood shed on the blacktop of Thomas Road, ole' Lonnie-boy was up and moved AGAIN. WHOOOOOOORAYYY!!!!
A few Saturday mornings later, it was as ole' Lonnie-boy had never set foot on "our" domain. We all kinda forgot about how we chickened out that day...except one day when I reminded ole Douglas of how he looked so stupid with egg on his face. But, that is another story indeed.
Ole' Butch, probably smarter than any of us kids ever gave him credit for, to our delight, brought out all those car parts and as we dug in, he'd just grab a part every so often and then glance over his shoulder and jump at the drop of a hat.
"Gimme that enjun, Garrett!" Allen demanded. "Go suck a root, dumba$$" Carter said as he glared. I'm thinkin' "you idiots just bow to the king and life will be a little less complicated on Thomas Road today." Yup, things were back to normal.
I hope you had a great time on Thomas Road today. It was a disputed little kingdom but a very important part of Johnny-boy's growin' up years. <><
And you know, in a small town like ours, there were not all that many kids anyway. So if you wanted someone to play with, you took whatever age, or size, came!! 
This was a funny story, so typical of what it was like back in those days of our childhood. Thanks for posting this story, gave me a good laugh! Please have a great day! Kelley (Texas)