GEN-X Pyromantic Prodigals

A Generation X Love Letter

Greetings Earth Frens! Ratio here…

“Stop crying or I’ll give you something to cry about!” they yelled at us. And we stopped.

Through gritted teeth and pursed lips: “If you don’t knock it off right now mister…”

Mom could grab your ear from 300 yards.

'A’right Gen Xers…

Sing the following:

GI Joe, the real American Hero!

Hot Pockets!

I feel like Chicken Tonight!

Transformers, more than meets the eye!

Ahhh, to be Gen X.

I’m not going to brow beat you for being born to late. That much.

Not everyone had the same experience as me.

Ash trays all over the house. All the stuff you got from your parents saving those “Camel Cash”. The beer mugs. The beach towels. The T-Shirts with Joe Camel.

The kegerator with liquid gold on tap, always.

The station wagon and other seat belt free vehicles.

The 25 foot phone cords with rotary dial. And when you screw up the last number and have to start over.

After cartoons were over, laying down in front of the console TV Mom would kick us out of the house because “The Soaps” came on.

We would get on our bikes and ride until we found the other kids.

Be home by dark was what our parents said, and if we weren’t we’d get hit. We didn’t break the rules. And we didn’t tell if we did either. Getting caught was for losers. We knew how to keep our mouths shut.

We

Were

Not

Recorded

And the statute of limitations for some of us are finally coming up…. We’re talking…

It was summer. We walked into the marsh behind the sub-division by the middle school. It was one of many nature areas in Mukwonago, Wisconsin. It had a natural cold water spring. It had trails. It had railroad tracks. It had it all. Hell, it was rural Wisconsin in 1989 in a town of 4400 people - the hold thing was a nature area.

No adult supervision. What are kids to do?

We walked up to the railroad tracks and there were one of those giant cement pipes that went under it so water could drain out. It was big enough for us to crouch a little and get inside. At this time it was dry. We went in the pipe to explore.

Someone had left a log and some trash in the middle. Maybe other teenagers. Who knows? For us it was the perfect spot. We put down the backpack full of stuff and got to work.

What did we have with us? Matches, lighters, some cardboard boxes, and of course - an Aqua Net Aerosol jumbo can of hairspray.

We made the pile of cardboard and small sticks and put it on top of the log. We lit the cardboard and started a small fire. When it got going we put the hair spray can on there.

Then we ran! We got out of there as fast as we could.

We ran to the side to get out of the way. We figured the can wouldn’t burn or do anything so we waited figuring we would have to go back in and try again.

Next thing you know… BOOOOMM! That sucker blew up!

Out of both sides of the cement tube these giant fireballs arose into the air about 20 feet! It was friggin’ A-Team style up in there!

That type of thing that you marvel at your teenager skills and fist in the air you pull in that elbow to your gut and yell, “yessssss”!

We cheered at the awesomeness and jumped up and down in excitement over the wanton destruction we caused! Oh man! Did you see that!! Wow! I had no idea the explosion would be that big!

Luckily, no one was hurt and no forest fires started. The explosion was bigger than we thought but was enough tempting fate that we thought we better get the hell out of there.

It wouldn’t be the last time that pressurized aerolosol cans would explode around me.

We walked out the way we came in. As though no super giant explosions happened in there and got back to our walkin’.

We had our only mode of transportation back then. The BM-DoubleShoes. They got us anywhere we wanted in that small town.

And we didn’t complain.

OK so maybe I had wilder parents than you. And turned out thus. But how was I supposed to know. You also turned out thus.

OK, one more story before I go.

There we were. Walking along another dusty trail. It was dusk. Not sure where were were headed. Who needs a direction when you got nothing but time. There we were when suddenly we hear a motorcycle come around the corner… FAST! It was headed straight for us. We look back, and ran off into the bushes and dove off the trail as fast as we could.

Clearly this guy with his dirt bike and helmet may not necessarily have been trying to kill us. But that is NOT how we interpreted the exchange. IT. WAS. ON.

What were we going to do? We had no weapons. The guy was long gone. But the rage hadn’t left us. We walked up the trail a little further and found a spool of fishing line. It was Wisconsin, and there are almost as many lakes as in Minnesota. So we did what any self respecting kids would do when almost killed by a random motorcycle. We made a decision.

We would destroy him with ENVY. If we couldn’t have the trail, neigher would he.

Back and forth and forth and back we took turns spooling the fishing line in between the trees that lined the trail. And forth and back and back we went. Until we had a pretty solid trap, set. The fishing line was too thin to see, especially in the dark, until you were right on top of it.

So we walked off very proud of ourselves that we would catch that motorcycle guy that almost killed us and knock him off his stupid bike.

I still wonder to this day if it caught that guy, or if someone walked through the next day and got highly annoyed as they walked the trail and got snagged. I’m sure someone cut the lines down and life went back to normal.

If that was you that got snagged by our fishing line trap on the trail, sorry about that. If you were the guy that almost killed us, good.

-Ratio

PS: Oh, Frens, that is just a tip of the iceberg of Gen X love stories. Should I make this a regular thing? I could, you know, put some, maybe, dank memes in there too if it will make you guys more frenlier. Drop a comment.