DIS Dads DDC XXXII: A Dole Whip in Paradise

Dads of the DIS talk about life, bacon, Disney, bacon, kids, bacon, cars, bacon, family life, and lots of other fun stuff! And beer. And bacon.
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Wow get to the cliff hanger and then a conference call, I'm on the edge of my seat!
 
Ok- here goes. Get comfy, this is a long story that I will probably have to tell over a few posts.

It all started back in beach week after high school graduation. My friends and I were "good kids" who really didn't get in to any trouble. No drinking, no drugs, etc.. One afternoon, I was riding through North Carolina's Outer Banks in the back of someone's Jeep Grand Cherokee when one of the other passengers (Seth) had the brilliant idea to launch a bottle rocket out of a moving car. It seemed harmless enough. Nobody got hurt, nobody got caught, nobody even really talked about it. But just because nobody talked about it didn't mean I wasn't still thinking about it. Deep down I couldn't wait to try the same thing. [This is really what scares me. I see the same bad ideas running through my son's head all the time. The kid is a bad idea factory and I'm afraid I know where he gets it.]

Well later that day we all decide to go go-kart racing. So we all pile in to 4 or 5 cars and I climbed in to my friend Scummy's (don't ask) Pontiac Grand Am with one other guy, James. We were cruising down the road at about 50 miles an hour when my bad idea came back. I was positioned in the back seat on the passenger's side and on my left, behind the driver was a bag full of bottle rockets.

And now, I have a conference call. Be back soon.

Fezzik, tear his arms off.
 
Ok- here goes. Get comfy, this is a long story that I will probably have to tell over a few posts.

It all started back in beach week after high school graduation. My friends and I were "good kids" who really didn't get in to any trouble. No drinking, no drugs, etc.. One afternoon, I was riding through North Carolina's Outer Banks in the back of someone's Jeep Grand Cherokee when one of the other passengers (Seth) had the brilliant idea to launch a bottle rocket out of a moving car. It seemed harmless enough. Nobody got hurt, nobody got caught, nobody even really talked about it. But just because nobody talked about it didn't mean I wasn't still thinking about it. Deep down I couldn't wait to try the same thing. [This is really what scares me. I see the same bad ideas running through my son's head all the time. The kid is a bad idea factory and I'm afraid I know where he gets it.]

Well later that day we all decide to go go-kart racing. So we all pile in to 4 or 5 cars and I climbed in to my friend Scummy's (don't ask) Pontiac Grand Am with one other guy, James. We were cruising down the road at about 50 miles an hour when my bad idea came back. I was positioned in the back seat on the passenger's side and on my left, behind the driver was a bag full of bottle rockets.

And now, I have a conference call. Be back soon.

First off…
“Bad Idea Factory” is just about the best description I’ve ever hear for describing a young’en. It not a bad title for a book either (or even DDC thread title)

Secondly, this needs to be written out completely and published (maybe using that apropos title). A fiction writer could not have started off a story more enticingly or established a better set of characters if they’d been touched by Shakespeare ghost. I mean really: “Scummy”…
That alone has got to be worth a chapter.

Perfect timing for a cliff hanger as well; it’s like waiting for the next chapter of a Dickensian serial novel
 
Safety first. Anyone remember jumping jacks? Not the exercise, Norm. They were these firecracker size things, you light the fuse and they would spin, glow and sometimes spin so fast they would take flight for a couple seconds. My friend and I thought it would be cool to light them in our hands, then throw them in the air right before the fuse burned down to try to get them to fly. Apparently not all fuses are created equally. One of them lit up in my hand and MELTED MY FIRST TWO FINGERS TOGETHER. Scared to death of the beating that would ensue if I told mom what I did, I hid it. Even ate one-handed for a while. We went on vacation and I was still able to hide it. Then after a few days I figured I couldn't hide this much longer so I just ripped the fingers apart. That smarts. The moral of the story: don't let your idiot middle-school age sons anywhere near fireworks. Also, don't do jumping jacks.

Growing up on the farm, you sometimes found yourself with an excess of free time and a lack of supervision. So my brother and I would wander around the pasture, find the freshest cow pies we could, and stick a couple of firecrackers in them.

Yes, for fun, we blew up poop.

Burning the flag???? What are you some kind of hippie :rotfl2:

Seriously, really cool pics :thumbsup2:thumbsup2
As far as I know, none of them went up in flames. The lady next to us said the first time she did one, she burnt it to a crisp. I would assume the paperboard would burn itself out and the lantern would descend harmlessly to the ground. Based on the height these things were reaching and the prevailing winds, they're Milwaukee County's problem now. :thumbsup2

There's a Rapunzel joke in here somewhere but I can't quite put my finger on it. Barry- you wanna take a crack at it?
In all the excitement of launching the lanterns, I forgot to do "the smoulder."

I'll take cash up front from both of you to keep quiet.

Actually at the Ohana dinner during DDC 2 I didn't know it was a secret and almost let the cat out of the bag. Thought Bambi was going to kill me.
We've had several people start talking about our cruise in front of the kids. Luckily (I guess) my kids are completely oblivious and still don't know.


Just the neighbor's idiot kid lighting one off to mess with everybody. :thumbsup2 :rotfl2:
:rotfl2: Probably. But kudos to him for getting it over the pier where they city fires the show from.


Back from our Long Island baseball trip. Missed a bunch more days and will go back and try to catch up later. Team went 1-2 and did not qualify for the finals. rained all day Saturday and ended up playing only 3 games instead of 4. The bright spot was Evan pitched all 5 inning of the game we won. A slaughter rule victory 11-1 after the 5 innings.

I met Darcy and his friends on their Boston stop over before the cruise. Here are a couple pics. We are eating at Dicks Last Resort in Fanueil Hall. Not sure how they knew Darcy was from Canada, but his hat said "I love Justin Beiber".:rotfl2::lmao::rotfl2:


:thumbsup2:thumbsup2

I hope this is transferable too.
I'll call Delaware and see what I can do.


Very cool and I like how they decided to use the proceeds as well.

We didn’t have an event like that here, but they were selling pies with half of all the funds raised going to the Wounded Warrior Project.
The pie was tasty enough but not quite as cool and sending one of our national symbols aloft…
and potentially down in flames.
I think because it's cylindrical, it doesn't technically count as a flag and we can burn as many as we want. :thumbsup2

Very cool Barry... Was reading about it on FB as well.

Any video???
Working on it...

Ok- here goes. Get comfy, this is a long story that I will probably have to tell over a few posts.

It all started back in beach week after high school graduation. My friends and I were "good kids" who really didn't get in to any trouble. No drinking, no drugs, etc.. One afternoon, I was riding through North Carolina's Outer Banks in the back of someone's Jeep Grand Cherokee when one of the other passengers (Seth) had the brilliant idea to launch a bottle rocket out of a moving car. It seemed harmless enough. Nobody got hurt, nobody got caught, nobody even really talked about it. But just because nobody talked about it didn't mean I wasn't still thinking about it. Deep down I couldn't wait to try the same thing. [This is really what scares me. I see the same bad ideas running through my son's head all the time. The kid is a bad idea factory and I'm afraid I know where he gets it.]

Well later that day we all decide to go go-kart racing. So we all pile in to 4 or 5 cars and I climbed in to my friend Scummy's (don't ask) Pontiac Grand Am with one other guy, James. We were cruising down the road at about 50 miles an hour when my bad idea came back. I was positioned in the back seat on the passenger's side and on my left, behind the driver was a bag full of bottle rockets.

And now, I have a conference call. Be back soon.
If your next update doesn't involve a trip to the ER and/or car dealership I'm going to be very disappointed.
 

....I asked James for the cigarette lighter and proceeded to lower my window. I lit the first bottle rocket and stuck it out the window. Now, this would be a good time to mention that when Seth did this earlier, it was in a residential neighborhood and we were therefore going about 25 or 30 mph. Far less wind resistance at that speed. So now at a much greater speed, the bottle rocket was wobbling in my hand as I held it out in the wind. As the fuse burned low, I timed the release perfectly. This was nothing like the incident about 5 or 6 years earlier where a poorly timed release fused a few fingers together. Nope- when I let this bottle rocket go, it actually hung in the air and FLEW NEXT TO THE CAR. Despite what happened next, that was pretty cool. Remember that added wind resistance I mentioned? Well, here's where the story takes a decidedly unfortunate turn.

I need to heat up lunch. Be back in a few...
 
First off…
“Bad Idea Factory” is just about the best description I’ve ever hear for describing a young’en. It not a bad title for a book either (or even DDC thread title)

Secondly, this needs to be written out completely and published (maybe using that apropos title). A fiction writer could not have started off a story more enticingly or established a better set of characters if they’d been touched by Shakespeare ghost. I mean really: “Scummy”…
That alone has got to be worth a chapter.

Perfect timing for a cliff hanger as well; it’s like waiting for the next chapter of a Dickensian serial novel
His bad ideas could fill a library, not just a book. "What were you thinking?!" is the refrain heard most often at my house. A couple days ago he excused himself from the dinner table, went in to the family room and started making armpit fart noises. "Buddy, what are you doing?" "I need to keep my talents going so when school starts up again I'll still remember how to do this." While not a dangerous idea, it gives you a clue as to what I'm dealing with. I can't wait to give a speech at his wedding. I just have to make sure he lives that long.

If your next update doesn't involve a trip to the ER and/or car dealership I'm going to be very disappointed.

You will not be disappointed.
 
Dear DisDads,
I am taking on another challenge for charity. You all have always been kind and supportive of my causes. Grace and I are running a Star Wars race in January to raise money for muscular dystrophy. We are running for a kid named Parker who has a rare form of muscular dystrophy. I need to raise only a minimal amount, but I am looking to you to be generous because you all have good hearts. The donation link is below.

http://www.active.com/donate/tmm4ucmdstarwars2015/McCumberTeam



Please contact your friends to get them involved with this very worthy cause!!

Thanks to each of you & all my best,

Sean

Also very cool.
I’ll give this a look when I get home later this evening.





Growing up on the farm, you sometimes found yourself with an excess of free time and a lack of supervision. So my brother and I would wander around the pasture, find the freshest cow pies we could, and stick a couple of firecrackers in them.

Yes, for fun, we blew up poop.


The silence is due the fact that none of us are surprised by this.


I think because it's cylindrical, it doesn't technically count as a flag and we can burn as many as we want. :thumbsup2


You can burn the real thing if’n you really want to.
No, I wouldn’t think of doin’ such either, but it is your right.




Video of the launch:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mwHlThkmO0A

Sorry for the horrible quality. Clearly, I should have hired Cinematic Recording Arts Productions to do my video.

Nice Vid…
You really can’t tell that it wasn’t a Cinematic Recording Arts Production





....I asked James for the cigarette lighter and proceeded to lower my window. I lit the first bottle rocket and stuck it out the window. Now, this would be a good time to mention that when Seth did this earlier, it was in a residential neighborhood and we were therefore going about 25 or 30 mph. Far less wind resistance at that speed. So now at a much greater speed, the bottle rocket was wobbling in my hand as I held it out in the wind. As the fuse burned low, I timed the release perfectly. This was nothing like the incident about 5 or 6 years earlier where a poorly timed release fused a few fingers together. Nope- when I let this bottle rocket go, it actually hung in the air and FLEW NEXT TO THE CAR. Despite what happened next, that was pretty cool. Remember that added wind resistance I mentioned? Well, here's where the story takes a decidedly unfortunate turn.

I need to heat up lunch. Be back in a few...

popcorn::
 
:scared1: I can't decide if that's one of the dumbest things or one of the most bada-- things I've ever heard.
::yes:: and ::yes::

First off…
“Bad Idea Factory” is just about the best description I’ve ever hear for describing a young’en. It not a bad title for a book either (or even DDC thread title)
Second!!! :thumbsup2

....I asked James for the cigarette lighter and proceeded to lower my window. I lit the first bottle rocket and stuck it out the window. Now, this would be a good time to mention that when Seth did this earlier, it was in a residential neighborhood and we were therefore going about 25 or 30 mph. Far less wind resistance at that speed. So now at a much greater speed, the bottle rocket was wobbling in my hand as I held it out in the wind. As the fuse burned low, I timed the release perfectly. This was nothing like the incident about 5 or 6 years earlier where a poorly timed release fused a few fingers together. Nope- when I let this bottle rocket go, it actually hung in the air and FLEW NEXT TO THE CAR. Despite what happened next, that was pretty cool. Remember that added wind resistance I mentioned? Well, here's where the story takes a decidedly unfortunate turn.

I need to heat up lunch. Be back in a few...
Bottle rockets... The inspiration for fun times, incredible memories and stupid ideas everywhere. :thumbsup2 :rotfl2:
 
....ok, where was I. Ah yes, the pivot point of our story. Here is where wind, physics, an itty-bitty rocket engine and Murphy's Law all came together. The bottle rocket took a sharp left and came right back through the very window from which it had been released. It flew right past my face and struck the rear, driver's side window, and fell to the seat. A second later, it popped as all bottle rockets do. Have you been paying attention? Do you know what is sitting in the seat behind the driver? If you said, "a bag full of bottle rockets" you are correct! Now what do you think Murphy's Law would have happen at this point? Of course.. Tsss, tsss, tsss, tsss, tsss, tsss. That's the sound of many, many, many bottle rocket fuses all lighting.

There was nothing I could do. I curled up in the fetal position and awaited the inevitable. James was laughing hysterically in the front seat and Scummy just slumped lower and lower in his seat to keep his head below the rapidly growing cloud of smoke that filled the car so he could attempt to keep driving. As the fuses reached their conclusion, every daggone one of them did what they were designed to do. They flew. Oh my did they ever fly. I was peppered up and down the left side of my body with live ammo. It felt like a hundred bee stings. I had burn holes in my clothes from the rockets red glare and a hundred little explosions. These weren't burn marks, these were BURN HOLES. I even had several holes burned in to the crotch of my shorts. I kept those shorts and used them as a visual aid when telling the story to high school kids in the years to come.

It was over as quickly as it began. We got to the go-kart place and all of our buddies raced over to see what happened. Nobody was hurt, but the car was fried. Back seat- fried, both front seats - fried, headliner - obliterated. Fortunately, Scummy's uncle ran a car dealership and they handled the repairs. Scummy's dad let me off easy and only made me pay about $100 but I hear he was furious. Interesting side note: my sister-in-law was friends with Scummy's cousin (I didn't know her back then) and happened to be vacationing with Scummy's family when they got the call saying what happened. She confirmed that dad was indeed furious.

These days, all is forgiven as I see Scummy's family often. He was best man at my wedding and I do a lot of work for their tutoring business. Without them, I wouldn't be in WDW nearly as often.

I think I need to not be so hard on my son. When it comes to bad ideas, he has a long way to go.
 
:rotfl2::rotfl::lmao::rotfl2::rotfl::lmao:

Ok... I was literally laughing out loud at my desk reading this. There are tears in my eyes. First of all, Rob might be onto something about writing a book. You've got a skill for telling a story effectively. Secondly, if this post doesn't deserve a permanent link on page one of the DDC, I don't know what does.
 
....ok, where was I. Ah yes, the pivot point of our story. Here is where wind, physics, an itty-bitty rocket engine and Murphy's Law all came together. The bottle rocket took a sharp left and came right back through the very window from which it had been released. It flew right past my face and struck the rear, driver's side window, and fell to the seat. A second later, it popped as all bottle rockets do. Have you been paying attention? Do you know what is sitting in the seat behind the driver? If you said, "a bag full of bottle rockets" you are correct! Now what do you think Murphy's Law would have happen at this point? Of course.. Tsss, tsss, tsss, tsss, tsss, tsss. That's the sound of many, many, many bottle rocket fuses all lighting. There was nothing I could do. I curled up in the fetal position and awaited the inevitable. James was laughing hysterically in the front seat and Scummy just slumped lower and lower in his seat to keep his head below the rapidly growing cloud of smoke that filled the car so he could attempt to keep driving. As the fuses reached their conclusion, every daggone one of them did what they were designed to do. They flew. Oh my did they ever fly. I was peppered up and down the left side of my body with live ammo. It felt like a hundred bee stings. I had burn holes in my clothes from the rockets red glare and a hundred little explosions. These weren't burn marks, these were BURN HOLES. I even had several holes burned in to the crotch of my shorts. I kept those shorts and used them as a visual aid when telling the story to high school kids in the years to come. It was over as quickly as it began. We got to the go-kart place and all of our buddies raced over to see what happened. Nobody was hurt, but the car was fried. Back seat- fried, both front seats - fried, headliner - obliterated. Fortunately, Scummy's uncle ran a car dealership and they handled the repairs. Scummy's dad let me off easy and only made me pay about $100 but I hear he was furious. Interesting side note: my sister-in-law was friends with Scummy's cousin (I didn't know her back then) and happened to be vacationing with Scummy's family when they got the call saying what happened. She confirmed that dad was indeed furious. These days, all is forgiven as I see Scummy's family often. He was best man at my wedding and I do a lot of work for their tutoring business. Without them, I wouldn't be in WDW nearly as often. I think I need to not be so hard on my son. When it comes to bad ideas, he has a long way to go.

That was an awesome story! And I thought my teenage antics were bad.
 
:rotfl2::rotfl::lmao::rotfl2::rotfl::lmao:

Ok... I was literally laughing out loud at my desk reading this. There are tears in my eyes. First of all, Rob might be onto something about writing a book. You've got a skill for telling a story effectively. Secondly, if this post doesn't deserve a permanent link on page one of the DDC, I don't know what does.
Glad you enjoyed it. As I was writing it I was thinking "How would Captain Oblivious tell this?" Plus I've told the story a few times.
That was an awesome story! And I thought my teenage antics were bad.

I'm afraid to tell my boy this story. I don't want to prime the pump at the bad idea factory.
 
....ok, where was I. Ah yes, the pivot point of our story. Here is where wind, physics, an itty-bitty rocket engine and Murphy's Law all came together. The bottle rocket took a sharp left and came right back through the very window from which it had been released. It flew right past my face and struck the rear, driver's side window, and fell to the seat. A second later, it popped as all bottle rockets do. Have you been paying attention? Do you know what is sitting in the seat behind the driver? If you said, "a bag full of bottle rockets" you are correct! Now what do you think Murphy's Law would have happen at this point? Of course.. Tsss, tsss, tsss, tsss, tsss, tsss. That's the sound of many, many, many bottle rocket fuses all lighting.

There was nothing I could do. I curled up in the fetal position and awaited the inevitable. James was laughing hysterically in the front seat and Scummy just slumped lower and lower in his seat to keep his head below the rapidly growing cloud of smoke that filled the car so he could attempt to keep driving. As the fuses reached their conclusion, every daggone one of them did what they were designed to do. They flew. Oh my did they ever fly. I was peppered up and down the left side of my body with live ammo. It felt like a hundred bee stings. I had burn holes in my clothes from the rockets red glare and a hundred little explosions. These weren't burn marks, these were BURN HOLES. I even had several holes burned in to the crotch of my shorts. I kept those shorts and used them as a visual aid when telling the story to high school kids in the years to come.

It was over as quickly as it began. We got to the go-kart place and all of our buddies raced over to see what happened. Nobody was hurt, but the car was fried. Back seat- fried, both front seats - fried, headliner - obliterated. Fortunately, Scummy's uncle ran a car dealership and they handled the repairs. Scummy's dad let me off easy and only made me pay about $100 but I hear he was furious. Interesting side note: my sister-in-law was friends with Scummy's cousin (I didn't know her back then) and happened to be vacationing with Scummy's family when they got the call saying what happened. She confirmed that dad was indeed furious.

These days, all is forgiven as I see Scummy's family often. He was best man at my wedding and I do a lot of work for their tutoring business. Without them, I wouldn't be in WDW nearly as often.

I think I need to not be so hard on my son. When it comes to bad ideas, he has a long way to go.

 
:rotfl2::rotfl::lmao::rotfl2::rotfl::lmao:

Ok... I was literally laughing out loud at my desk reading this. There are tears in my eyes. First of all, Rob might be onto something about writing a book. You've got a skill for telling a story effectively. Secondly, if this post doesn't deserve a permanent link on page one of the DDC, I don't know what does.

Page One Updated! :thumbsup2
 
....ok, where was I. Ah yes, the pivot point of our story. Here is where wind, physics, an itty-bitty rocket engine and Murphy's Law all came together. The bottle rocket took a sharp left and came right back through the very window from which it had been released. It flew right past my face and struck the rear, driver's side window, and fell to the seat. A second later, it popped as all bottle rockets do. Have you been paying attention? Do you know what is sitting in the seat behind the driver? If you said, "a bag full of bottle rockets" you are correct!

I haven't gotten past this point yet but am already laughing hysterically.:rotfl2:
 
....ok, where was I. Ah yes, the pivot point of our story. Here is where wind, physics, an itty-bitty rocket engine and Murphy's Law all came together. The bottle rocket took a sharp left and came right back through the very window from which it had been released. It flew right past my face and struck the rear, driver's side window, and fell to the seat. A second later, it popped as all bottle rockets do. Have you been paying attention? Do you know what is sitting in the seat behind the driver? If you said, "a bag full of bottle rockets" you are correct! Now what do you think Murphy's Law would have happen at this point? Of course.. Tsss, tsss, tsss, tsss, tsss, tsss. That's the sound of many, many, many bottle rocket fuses all lighting.

There was nothing I could do. I curled up in the fetal position and awaited the inevitable. James was laughing hysterically in the front seat and Scummy just slumped lower and lower in his seat to keep his head below the rapidly growing cloud of smoke that filled the car so he could attempt to keep driving. As the fuses reached their conclusion, every daggone one of them did what they were designed to do. They flew. Oh my did they ever fly. I was peppered up and down the left side of my body with live ammo. It felt like a hundred bee stings. I had burn holes in my clothes from the rockets red glare and a hundred little explosions. These weren't burn marks, these were BURN HOLES. I even had several holes burned in to the crotch of my shorts. I kept those shorts and used them as a visual aid when telling the story to high school kids in the years to come.

It was over as quickly as it began. We got to the go-kart place and all of our buddies raced over to see what happened. Nobody was hurt, but the car was fried. Back seat- fried, both front seats - fried, headliner - obliterated. Fortunately, Scummy's uncle ran a car dealership and they handled the repairs. Scummy's dad let me off easy and only made me pay about $100 but I hear he was furious. Interesting side note: my sister-in-law was friends with Scummy's cousin (I didn't know her back then) and happened to be vacationing with Scummy's family when they got the call saying what happened. She confirmed that dad was indeed furious.

These days, all is forgiven as I see Scummy's family often. He was best man at my wedding and I do a lot of work for their tutoring business. Without them, I wouldn't be in WDW nearly as often.

I think I need to not be so hard on my son. When it comes to bad ideas, he has a long way to go.

As is noted in my tag, bad decisions often lead to great stories!
Funny that you mention your son. I find myself correcting my daughters and then I sit back and go, "Damnit, they get that from me."

What a fantastic story. I think of all the juvenile pranks and flat out dangerous things that I did in my youth and pray that karma is kind to me.

I do believe many a great story begins with, "We had a bunch of bottle rockets."
 
....ok, where was I. Ah yes, the pivot point of our story. Here is where wind, physics, an itty-bitty rocket engine and Murphy's Law all came together. The bottle rocket took a sharp left and came right back through the very window from which it had been released. It flew right past my face and struck the rear, driver's side window, and fell to the seat. A second later, it popped as all bottle rockets do. Have you been paying attention? Do you know what is sitting in the seat behind the driver? If you said, "a bag full of bottle rockets" you are correct! Now what do you think Murphy's Law would have happen at this point? Of course.. Tsss, tsss, tsss, tsss, tsss, tsss. That's the sound of many, many, many bottle rocket fuses all lighting.

There was nothing I could do. I curled up in the fetal position and awaited the inevitable. James was laughing hysterically in the front seat and Scummy just slumped lower and lower in his seat to keep his head below the rapidly growing cloud of smoke that filled the car so he could attempt to keep driving. As the fuses reached their conclusion, every daggone one of them did what they were designed to do. They flew. Oh my did they ever fly. I was peppered up and down the left side of my body with live ammo. It felt like a hundred bee stings. I had burn holes in my clothes from the rockets red glare and a hundred little explosions. These weren't burn marks, these were BURN HOLES. I even had several holes burned in to the crotch of my shorts. I kept those shorts and used them as a visual aid when telling the story to high school kids in the years to come.

It was over as quickly as it began. We got to the go-kart place and all of our buddies raced over to see what happened. Nobody was hurt, but the car was fried. Back seat- fried, both front seats - fried, headliner - obliterated. Fortunately, Scummy's uncle ran a car dealership and they handled the repairs. Scummy's dad let me off easy and only made me pay about $100 but I hear he was furious. Interesting side note: my sister-in-law was friends with Scummy's cousin (I didn't know her back then) and happened to be vacationing with Scummy's family when they got the call saying what happened. She confirmed that dad was indeed furious.

These days, all is forgiven as I see Scummy's family often. He was best man at my wedding and I do a lot of work for their tutoring business. Without them, I wouldn't be in WDW nearly as often.

I think I need to not be so hard on my son. When it comes to bad ideas, he has a long way to go.

:lmao: :lmao: :lmao: :rotfl2: :rotfl2: :rotfl:

Glad it was only the car and not the fools inside the thing. Save that one for your Son’s wedding as well just to show the guests that it’s not only the groom that needs to be watched out for, and as a warning to the bride that these things are inheritable and she will need to vigilant in years to come.

As stories I've heard told go…
This one ranks high on the list for entertainment value (and lessons hard learned).
Well done sir.

two-thumbs-up-neil-patrick-harris.gif
 
...These weren't burn marks, these were BURN HOLES. I even had several holes burned in to the crotch of my shorts. I kept those shorts and used them as a visual aid when telling the story to high school kids in the years to come.

OK, we need evidence. A picture of the shorts must to be produced.

I'm afraid to tell my boy this story. I don't want to prime the pump at the bad idea factory.

Rule number one. DO NOT TELL YOUR KIDS THE STUPID STUFF YOU DID! That goes for all of you. Some mild antidotes of silly things are OK but not the Oh MY God I Could Have Killed Myself stuff. Wait until they are older and you have much more dirt on them. Imagine this scenario...

You: WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?
Them: At least I didn't blow up the car.
You: Shut up.

The Pirate Princess now knows many of my "stories" and she has even opened up with some "Remember when I said I was going to Matilda's..." but I would never have given her that kind of intel when she was a teenager.
 
....ok, where was I. Ah yes, the pivot point of our story. Here is where wind, physics, an itty-bitty rocket engine and Murphy's Law all came together. The bottle rocket took a sharp left and came right back through the very window from which it had been released. It flew right past my face and struck the rear, driver's side window, and fell to the seat. A second later, it popped as all bottle rockets do. Have you been paying attention? Do you know what is sitting in the seat behind the driver? If you said, "a bag full of bottle rockets" you are correct! Now what do you think Murphy's Law would have happen at this point? Of course.. Tsss, tsss, tsss, tsss, tsss, tsss. That's the sound of many, many, many bottle rocket fuses all lighting. There was nothing I could do. I curled up in the fetal position and awaited the inevitable. James was laughing hysterically in the front seat and Scummy just slumped lower and lower in his seat to keep his head below the rapidly growing cloud of smoke that filled the car so he could attempt to keep driving. As the fuses reached their conclusion, every daggone one of them did what they were designed to do. They flew. Oh my did they ever fly. I was peppered up and down the left side of my body with live ammo. It felt like a hundred bee stings. I had burn holes in my clothes from the rockets red glare and a hundred little explosions. These weren't burn marks, these were BURN HOLES. I even had several holes burned in to the crotch of my shorts. I kept those shorts and used them as a visual aid when telling the story to high school kids in the years to come. It was over as quickly as it began. We got to the go-kart place and all of our buddies raced over to see what happened. Nobody was hurt, but the car was fried. Back seat- fried, both front seats - fried, headliner - obliterated. Fortunately, Scummy's uncle ran a car dealership and they handled the repairs. Scummy's dad let me off easy and only made me pay about $100 but I hear he was furious. Interesting side note: my sister-in-law was friends with Scummy's cousin (I didn't know her back then) and happened to be vacationing with Scummy's family when they got the call saying what happened. She confirmed that dad was indeed furious. These days, all is forgiven as I see Scummy's family often. He was best man at my wedding and I do a lot of work for their tutoring business. Without them, I wouldn't be in WDW nearly as often. I think I need to not be so hard on my son. When it comes to bad ideas, he has a long way to go.

Why hasn't this been put to film??
 
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