Tuesday, January 29, 2008

"Fun With Weapons!"

It's a HoMeSkOoL dAy. They've discovered the fun of Archery; part of me thinks that's kinda cool, part of me is scared shitless.

My folks were in the salvage biz before I came along -- they bought this place when I was nine -- I grew up around here, I know the magic of findin' the dreck that gets left in wrecked cars, I'm tryin' to not be too hard on 'em, but they're wearin' me down today. I remember several attempts at making or building things, a lot of which never really worked out. I remember the ever-present voice of Mom, making sure there was no doubt this was a business and there wasn't gonna be any blatant stupidity put out there to let the whole world think we were a bunch of ignorant hillbillies; there was to be no fire-lighting, no blowin' shit up... I had a bicycle over here, but I knew that it was not something to be ridden indoors. I did some dumb shit on a small scale, but I never pedaled a bicycle at warp-speed into a stack of boxes and then whined about getting hurt. Apparently they've seen "Jack@ss, The Movie," but missed the most important line in the entire film: "If you're gonna be dumb, ya gotta be tough."

Somewhere, they've found a ratty ol' wooden bow. Mostly taking turns, sometimes fighting over it, they're shooting a single cammo arrow into a radiator box, usually up toward the North end of the building, but occasionally down here by the phones. They seem to like being as loud as possible whenever I'm trying to talk on the phone, but that's another rant.

I was standin' there by the fireplace, and the older one walked up to me, holding the arrow. The feathers are pretty much gone, but it's the basic standard-issue cammo-printed hunting arrow with a screw-in tip and thankfully, not a broadhead.

"Do they make steel arrows?" he asks.

"There's not much point in that; they're aluminum so they're light to fly through the air and hit the deer instead of falling on the ground." I tried to use small words, but...

"Well he just shot this through a box," he gestures toward his little brother, "and it went into the wall."

Fighting an urge to just say "So?" I brought on the best of logic and said, "Ya know, a Bow & Arrow isn't usually an indoor toy."

Then he looked me straight in the eyes and said "It is if it's plastic!"

He was gone before I could point out that there was no plastic involved in the making of the wooden bow and aluminum arrow.

I don't get it either.

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