The image of you clinging to the sled while your face became the runner made me laugh out loud. What makes the story work, though, is the complete refusal to surrender—even after the ice, the car, and the four-inch badge of honor. That final suspicion about the copper corduroy pants was perfect.
Setting: summer, inner city street. involves the neighbor boy, a bicycle and a pair of skates that belonged to my sister.
My hands slipped from back of the seat, I quite literally face planted the back tire and scraped about 20ft on bare abdomen on the pavement. Got up, yelled at the boy for laughing, went home and took a nap. I showed him the abrasion the next day. We were about 7/8yo. This was the 90s. I’m fine now… I think
I loved sledding when i was a kid...and perhaps this year i will try it out after reading this...you have me belly laughing..and remembering...thank you..
Roger, this brought a big grin to my face. You capture exactly what it feels like to be just old enough for embarrassment, but not quite old enough to give up on a good hill and a Red Flyer. That description of your face becoming the sled—equal parts painful and funny—was perfect. I love how you hold onto the badge of honor in the story, even while admitting the sting lasted longer than the scrape. Thanks for reminding us that sometimes the best stories come from the moments we’d rather forget (and that copper corduroy is always a bold choice).
The image of you clinging to the sled while your face became the runner made me laugh out loud. What makes the story work, though, is the complete refusal to surrender—even after the ice, the car, and the four-inch badge of honor. That final suspicion about the copper corduroy pants was perfect.
ha ha - thanks! When life blesses you with an experience like this, be a shame not to capture it!
Amazing article my friend
thank you 🫶
Sledding is still fun
ha ha while I was writing this up, I kinda got the itch again :)
Really enjoyed this piece, and ditto what the others said 🐝
I have a similar story!
Setting: summer, inner city street. involves the neighbor boy, a bicycle and a pair of skates that belonged to my sister.
My hands slipped from back of the seat, I quite literally face planted the back tire and scraped about 20ft on bare abdomen on the pavement. Got up, yelled at the boy for laughing, went home and took a nap. I showed him the abrasion the next day. We were about 7/8yo. This was the 90s. I’m fine now… I think
cool! well, not the scraping part, but yeah :) and we just bounce back up
An excellent read, Roger. Made me smile (and wince slightly at the cheek-on-ice, but mostly smile).
it was fine, the ice numbed it 😁
I loved sledding when i was a kid...and perhaps this year i will try it out after reading this...you have me belly laughing..and remembering...thank you..
you are never too old. says the guy with the flattened face 😎
that is right....don't worry...i am sure i will have a story too :)
Roger, this brought a big grin to my face. You capture exactly what it feels like to be just old enough for embarrassment, but not quite old enough to give up on a good hill and a Red Flyer. That description of your face becoming the sled—equal parts painful and funny—was perfect. I love how you hold onto the badge of honor in the story, even while admitting the sting lasted longer than the scrape. Thanks for reminding us that sometimes the best stories come from the moments we’d rather forget (and that copper corduroy is always a bold choice).
Still fond memories :) the pants were sears roebuck catalogue, 1968 edition :)
😊