Tuesday, April 12, 2011

ink.re.ments #10

If you think that my imagination as an adult is wild, you should have seen me as a kid. Looking back I sometimes think that I was off the charts some. In a good way. Those of you raised on video games might not get this latest incursion of my auto-biographical ink.re.ments strip, but for those that had boxes that transmogrified into forts and spaceships and battleships, then you know where I'm coming from.

One of my childhood friends had this basement that was divided into two rooms right down the middle. The one side was finished and looked to me like the interior of some old ship and the other side, where the laundry room and workbench were looked like the darker levels of a sunken ship. My friend's kitchen was the launching area where we would don out scuba gear, then proceed to the "back of the boat," where we would jump off and into the sea to make out descent into the depths to the interior of that sunken ship. I don't know about my buddy, but when I went down those steps I was there. I could feel the water, see the bubbles leaving my ventilator, see those fish and the sharks off in the hazy distance and feel the danger lurking as we entered that 'ship.' It was awesome. We visited that wreck often.

We innocently called our shared daydream, 'playing Jacques Cousteau.'

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

Bruce,

I think it is sad today's kids are not into using their imaginations like I did and quite obviously you did. Boxes became, not just the spaceships, forts and battleships but whatever your mind wandered to. I remember lining up a half dozen boxes of various sizes so I could go into caverns with different chambers. And to be blessed with a discarded refridgerator box was like going to heaven.

For me, my friend had a short flat rail fence in his backyard which became our tightwire so we could emulate the Flying Wallendas crossing over the skyscrapers in NYC. Thanks for the memories!

UC

Merisi said...

I don't remember anymore what made my brothers and me climb up the trunk of the one hundred year old linden tree next to our house, but I vividly remember being stuck high up and feeling as if I had left the mothership and was lost somewhere in space (I would have sworn those pesky branches moved further apart once one was way up the trunk, leaving us no other way but letting go and let ourselves fall down from on branch to the next - it was a miracle that we always were able to catch ourselves on the next lower one).

Bruce said...

UC: I never heard the stories about pretending to be the Flying Wallendas before. That's funny!

Merisi: One doesn't need a reason to climb a tree! Because it's there and needs climbing is the rationale that I always used (sometimes I still do).

Denver Brubaker said...

Yes! Childhood at its best! Love this one Bruce!

Bruce said...

Denver, those were definitely some fun times! I think that that last panel might look good in color.