M-Taliesin
01-02-2011, 02:43 AM
Howdy Folks!
One of the other members suggested that I should repost this tale that happened last year while I was on a hunt at an elementary school tot lot not far from here. This is a true tale, because I couldn't make this stuff up.
However, I am having to rewrite from memory because the previous forum evidently deleted my post.
It was a location I've hunted several times before, and on this particular day, decided I'd give it another try. It had never been particularly productive, but then again, you never know what might turn up. The tot lots I hunted were on the south side of an elementary school some 5 miles to the northeast of my home. There were other tot lots on the north side of the building, but they had pea gravel surfaces, and I preferred (still do) the ease of hunting in wood chips.
I'd moved from one playground to the second one and was finding a few coins here and there. Suddenly, this young kid maybe 7 or 8 years of age came charging toward me, his eyes wild and hollering as he came at me as fast as his little legs could carrry him. I couldn't understand what he was yelling, but suspect it might have been Latin spoken backwards! I stood up to my full height as he charged toward me, hollering all the way. As soon as he got within range, he threw a punch at me. Considering how tall I am, and he short he was, there was only one place that punch was likely to land, and I wasn't particuarly keen on letting it hit the intended target. As the punch came sailing in, I stepped to one side and swept his hand away. Without blinking, the kid suddenly threw a kick that I also blocked. I shouted at him get away from me, you little monster.
He immediately turned and ran off and out of sight around the corner of the building. I figured that was the end of the issue and went back to detecting. It was a bizarre incident, but I figured that was the end of it. Not so.
About 5 minutes later, he came rushing back, again with wild eyes and a crazed expression on his face, charging toward me as fast as he could go. Again I stood to my full height and waited to see what would happen this time. As he got close enough, he brought both fists above his curly haired head and brought them down hard on my metal detector control box. I was running my MXT 300 that day, and if I didn't have the strap around my arm, he might have knocked it loose of my grip. He slammed his fists down hard on the control box and reared back to strike again. As he started his next swing, aiming for the control box, I reached out and intercepted his right had with my left. Caught his hand in mid swing and put some pressure on his little fist. His expression changed from one of wild manic glee to startled fear as I ratcheted down my grip on his fist and put a dash of authority in my grip. Then I growled at him in a stern voice, Where is your mother?
He replied I don't know!
Well you'd better go find her and tell her to kick your butt before I do it myself! I told him in a gutteral growl.
The look on his face was priceless. I'd have paid money for photos of his expression as I gripped his hand in an increasily vicelike hold. His eyes were locked on mine, and his face showed shock and awe as I released his hand and shouted Now GIT!
He ran away as quickly as he'd come, rounding the end of the building and heading north.
I went back to detecting and in about another 5 or 10 minutes, finished that particular playground. I decided to walk toward the north to see if I could locate the kid's mother and tell her what her darling little brat had been doing.
As I rounded the building, I could see the other tot lots to the north. There was one of them structures that kids climb on, made of nothing more than steel bars, and there the kid was right on top of the whole sheebang. I walked to the north side of the building and spotted a woman watching over all the kids on that playground and approached her.
":beerbuddy:egging your pardon ma'am, I said, ":beerbuddy:ut you see that kid with the red shirt over there on top of that set of climbing bars?
Yes, she answered. Is something wrong?
Well, I wonder if you know who he is and where I can find his mother.
I'm his grandmother, so what is it you want with him?
As I recounted the whole tale of what had happened with that boy earlier, you could almost hear her eyebrows collide together. Her eyes shifted from me to the kid still merrily climbing on those monkey bars as I explained why I came looking for his mother. With her eyes set upon the kid she called out;
Mordachai, you get your backside over here right now, you hear me boy?
Mordachai? The kid was named Mordachai? In this day and age? Mordachai? Now wonder the kid's messed up! He probably had to defend himself every day at school just because his name was Mordachai.
Once the kid got within range, she snatched up his left arm and started in hollering at him.
This man says you came after him for no reason. Says you tried to punch him and hit his machine. I've told you never to go around strangers. You don't know this man. And you go attacking him like that?
She carried on a long string of dialog, punctuated with slaps to his backside, head and shoulders as she lit into that boy with a purely astounding display of correction. I almost felt sorry for Mordachai. Almost.
Thank you ma'am for taking appropriate action to straighten the boy out.
She interrupted her her swats at the boy long enough to say,
I'm sorry Mister, that kind of thing won't happen again.
Whereupon she turned her attention back on Mordachai and went right back to yelling at him and applying slaps to various of his parts.
I walked away feeling on the verge of sorry for little Mordachai. I never quite got to actually feeling sorry for him, but almost. And as I walked back to my car, for reasons I find hard to understand, I couldn't keep a smile from crossing my lips!
Blessings,
M-Taliesin
One of the other members suggested that I should repost this tale that happened last year while I was on a hunt at an elementary school tot lot not far from here. This is a true tale, because I couldn't make this stuff up.
However, I am having to rewrite from memory because the previous forum evidently deleted my post.
It was a location I've hunted several times before, and on this particular day, decided I'd give it another try. It had never been particularly productive, but then again, you never know what might turn up. The tot lots I hunted were on the south side of an elementary school some 5 miles to the northeast of my home. There were other tot lots on the north side of the building, but they had pea gravel surfaces, and I preferred (still do) the ease of hunting in wood chips.
I'd moved from one playground to the second one and was finding a few coins here and there. Suddenly, this young kid maybe 7 or 8 years of age came charging toward me, his eyes wild and hollering as he came at me as fast as his little legs could carrry him. I couldn't understand what he was yelling, but suspect it might have been Latin spoken backwards! I stood up to my full height as he charged toward me, hollering all the way. As soon as he got within range, he threw a punch at me. Considering how tall I am, and he short he was, there was only one place that punch was likely to land, and I wasn't particuarly keen on letting it hit the intended target. As the punch came sailing in, I stepped to one side and swept his hand away. Without blinking, the kid suddenly threw a kick that I also blocked. I shouted at him get away from me, you little monster.
He immediately turned and ran off and out of sight around the corner of the building. I figured that was the end of the issue and went back to detecting. It was a bizarre incident, but I figured that was the end of it. Not so.
About 5 minutes later, he came rushing back, again with wild eyes and a crazed expression on his face, charging toward me as fast as he could go. Again I stood to my full height and waited to see what would happen this time. As he got close enough, he brought both fists above his curly haired head and brought them down hard on my metal detector control box. I was running my MXT 300 that day, and if I didn't have the strap around my arm, he might have knocked it loose of my grip. He slammed his fists down hard on the control box and reared back to strike again. As he started his next swing, aiming for the control box, I reached out and intercepted his right had with my left. Caught his hand in mid swing and put some pressure on his little fist. His expression changed from one of wild manic glee to startled fear as I ratcheted down my grip on his fist and put a dash of authority in my grip. Then I growled at him in a stern voice, Where is your mother?
He replied I don't know!
Well you'd better go find her and tell her to kick your butt before I do it myself! I told him in a gutteral growl.
The look on his face was priceless. I'd have paid money for photos of his expression as I gripped his hand in an increasily vicelike hold. His eyes were locked on mine, and his face showed shock and awe as I released his hand and shouted Now GIT!
He ran away as quickly as he'd come, rounding the end of the building and heading north.
I went back to detecting and in about another 5 or 10 minutes, finished that particular playground. I decided to walk toward the north to see if I could locate the kid's mother and tell her what her darling little brat had been doing.
As I rounded the building, I could see the other tot lots to the north. There was one of them structures that kids climb on, made of nothing more than steel bars, and there the kid was right on top of the whole sheebang. I walked to the north side of the building and spotted a woman watching over all the kids on that playground and approached her.
":beerbuddy:egging your pardon ma'am, I said, ":beerbuddy:ut you see that kid with the red shirt over there on top of that set of climbing bars?
Yes, she answered. Is something wrong?
Well, I wonder if you know who he is and where I can find his mother.
I'm his grandmother, so what is it you want with him?
As I recounted the whole tale of what had happened with that boy earlier, you could almost hear her eyebrows collide together. Her eyes shifted from me to the kid still merrily climbing on those monkey bars as I explained why I came looking for his mother. With her eyes set upon the kid she called out;
Mordachai, you get your backside over here right now, you hear me boy?
Mordachai? The kid was named Mordachai? In this day and age? Mordachai? Now wonder the kid's messed up! He probably had to defend himself every day at school just because his name was Mordachai.
Once the kid got within range, she snatched up his left arm and started in hollering at him.
This man says you came after him for no reason. Says you tried to punch him and hit his machine. I've told you never to go around strangers. You don't know this man. And you go attacking him like that?
She carried on a long string of dialog, punctuated with slaps to his backside, head and shoulders as she lit into that boy with a purely astounding display of correction. I almost felt sorry for Mordachai. Almost.
Thank you ma'am for taking appropriate action to straighten the boy out.
She interrupted her her swats at the boy long enough to say,
I'm sorry Mister, that kind of thing won't happen again.
Whereupon she turned her attention back on Mordachai and went right back to yelling at him and applying slaps to various of his parts.
I walked away feeling on the verge of sorry for little Mordachai. I never quite got to actually feeling sorry for him, but almost. And as I walked back to my car, for reasons I find hard to understand, I couldn't keep a smile from crossing my lips!
Blessings,
M-Taliesin