Ryder
Member
Kinda hard to do that if a cop blows their tiny little head off for pointing a toy at them.
Do your kids play "guns?"
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Kinda hard to do that if a cop blows their tiny little head off for pointing a toy at them.
Nightcrawler
Member
Heck, I never even SAW the cops much growing up. My town only had but two cops, I think, maybe three.
There's something to be said for rural living when raising kids.
There's something to be said for rural living when raising kids.
greyhound
Member
Nightcrawler - dang that is a wise statement.
As a kid in the late 70's/early 80's we did it all - played pirates, cops n robbers, cowboys n indians, war, etc. And wiffle ball and backyard football too. Man, we were always outside doing something - I'll probably have skin cancer from all the sunburns (Not trying to be funny here, I used to get so red I couldn't sleep.)
When the Atari came out in 78, it came with a game called "Combat". So then we could even play shooting ganes when it got dark!
XLMiguel
Member
No kids here, but when I were one, we played all war/army, cops & robbers, cowboys & indians, safari (Ramar of the Jungle?), pirates, anything adventurous, with all kinds of toyguns, store-bought and improvised, all over the neighborhood. Particularly enjoyed playing Ranger/sniper, sneaking around, infiltrating, stalking. Got in trouble occasionaly for freaking out some of the neighbors who didn't like being spied on by 8 y.o. boys with toy M-1s.
It's never too late to have a happy childhood
It's never too late to have a happy childhood
Nightcrawler
Member
We would always "infiltrate" the "enemy base", which was this county place down the road where they kept all of the big trucks and snowplows. There's no fence around it, no guards or anything. Crime/vandalism simply wasn't a problem in my little town. We would just sneak around, take out sentries, get the data on the enemy missiles, plant the charges, and escape into the night.
Other times, there was this ruined mine building foundation that we would often go to to rescue prisoners.
Good times, my friends. 22 may seem young to feel nostaligic, but I miss those days sometimes.
Other times, there was this ruined mine building foundation that we would often go to to rescue prisoners.
Good times, my friends. 22 may seem young to feel nostaligic, but I miss those days sometimes.
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