Circa 1962

so we moved from Connetticutt to Pennsylvania about the time i was hitting the 2nd grade.  Mrs. Ford was a cool teacher.  The school was right across the highway, Street Rd.;  you had to use the crosswalk with an adult crossing guard to get across coming and going.  after mom got over a good case of allergy induced hives we had to move.  seems she was allergic to the landlord who lived next door and didn't want any dogs in her house.  i think she may have been bothered by my father's dark skin, but when we did get the dog she said we couldn't have, we were pretty much forced to move.  kind of a bizarre story, if you ask me, but i'll continue.  we moved into this mansion.  you know like a 'southern mansion' from gone with the wind days.  it was about 100 years old easy, had huge columns on the porch, on property that was covered with huge huge trees, and out back there was a real carriage house, horseshoes and all.  we lived in half the house while the owners were in the process of renovating.  by far it was one of the coolest places i have ever lived and although we were there only a short time it remains a vivid memory of childhood.  anyways...mom and dad took off, probably to the commissary or something and left us kids on our own to entertain ourselves for the day.  so my big brudda decided to herd us to the stream for the day.  we had to go across a huge field and cross a back woods road and down to where the stream was.  we played pretty much of the day away.  when it was time to go we had to make the hike back.  by the time we got to the road the tar was bubbling and oozing because it had gotten so warm under the afternoon sun.  quite interesting, warm tar.  you could pull it up and mold it in your hands; from what i heard from the old people, they even chewed it.  ack.  anyway, what was really neat is you could stick your toes in the bubbles and pop them.  actually if you stood for any length of time in the tar, you could actually get stuck.  and that is just what happened about the time the local police showed up to find out what a bunch of kids were doing in the middle of this country lane.  the littlest of bruddas had stood still a little too long.  luckily my courageous and strong big brudda was able to pull him from the tar and we managed to get out of the street about the time the cops stopped.  tar does not come off easily.  and you certainly do not want to try to wash it out in a washing machine.  you pretty much have to use gasoline.  which is good for removing ticks, too.

so,,,,there you have it....the story of sticky tar and mucky muck.  maybe someday i'll write about pig pooh.