1. falling out of tall trees — guilty. From our tree fort. Right on my head. My buddy had missed every single nail holding the floor planks to the joists. I walked out to the edge, the board tilted up, and POW! Down I went. Learned some good life lessons from that one — don’t trust your buddy’s work and always check the work of others.
2. off of cliffs — guilty.
3. riding our bicycles — guilty. 12 years old, new speedometer for Christmas, 45 mph down our street (LONG good hill), hit a pothole, landed on my head, knocked out cold for about 15 hours. Mom and Dad called the doc. Doc asked “Is that him screaming in the background?” Mom & Dad said “Yes.” Doc said “He’ll be fine” and that was that.
Yet, I’m still here 60 years later.
My head is so full of bumps and indentations from serious head injuries that people will wonder what the heck happened to me when my hair finally all falls out. I grew up with horses and cows and had a distinct penchant for finding dangerous activities for fun and entertainment.
I have no memory of fairly large swaths of my childhood which were likely wiped out after brain damage from various head injuries. My sisters were over for Christmas and were talking about the crazy things that I did, and I had no recollection at all of some of the stunts that I somehow survived because of my thick scull.
Ahhh..growing up in the 80s.
Put an odometer on my bike.
Some of the school bullies pulled up behind my bike in a pick-up.
The odometer broke. It maxed out at 60 mph, stayed pinned for a bit...and then broke. No I didn’t make the turn at the “T” at the bottom of the hill.
Yes, still here.