Life as a red-neck child growing up in Oklahoma....

Around age 10 my dad got me one of those little badass compound bow
beginner kits. Of course, the first month I went around our land sticking
arrows in anything that could get stuck by an arrow.
Did you know that a 1955 40 horse Farmall tractor tire will take 6 rounds before it goes down?
Tough sumbich.

That got boring, so being the 10 yr. old Dukes of Hazard fan that I was,
I quickly advanced to taking strips of cut up T-shirt doused in chainsaw
gas tied around the end and was sending flaming arrows all over the place.
One summer afternoon, I was shooting flaming arrows into a large rotten oak
stump in our backyard. I looked over under the carport and see a shiny
brand new can of starting fluid (Ether). The light bulb went off in my
head. I grabbed the can and set it on the stump. I thought that it would
probably just spray out in a disappointing manner. Lets face it, to a 10
yr old mouth-breather like myself, (Ether), really doesn't "sound" flammable.
So,I went back into the house and got a 1 pound can of pyrodex (black
powder for muzzle loader rifles).

At this point, I set the can of ether on the stump and opened up the can
of black powder. My intentions were to sprinkle a little bit around the
(Ether) can but it all sorta dumped out on me. No biggie, a 1 lb.
pyrodex and 16 oz (Ether) should make a loud pop, kinda like a firecracker
you know? You know what? Screw that I'm going back in the house for the other
can. Yes, I got a second can of pyrodex and dumped it too. Now we're
cookin'.

I stepped back about 15 ft and lit the 2 stroke arrow. I drew the nock
to my cheek and took aim. As I released I heard a clunk as the arrow
launched from my bow. In a slow motion time frame, I turned to see my dad
getting out of the truck... NOT GOOD! He just got home from work. So
help me God, it took 10 minutes for that arrow to go from my bow to the can. My
dad was walking towards me in slow motion with a confused look in his eyes. I
turned back towards my target just in time to see the arrow pierce the starting
fluid can, then right through the main pile of pyrodex.

What followed changed my life forever.

When the shock wave hit, it literally knocked me off my feet. I don't know
if it was the actual compression wave that threw me back or just reflex jerk-back
from 235 freeckin' decibels of sound. I caught a half a millisecond
glimpse of the violence during the initial explosion and I will tell you there was
dust, grass, and bugs all hovering 1 ft above the ground as far as I
could see. It was like a little low-to-the-ground layer of dust & fog full
of grasshoppers, spiders, and a worm or two.

The daylight turned purple. Let me repeat this... THE FREEKIN'
DAYLIGHT TURNED PURPLE.

There was a big sweetgum tree out by the gate going into the pasture.
Notice I said "was". It transplanted itself into someone else's piece of
ground.

So here I am, on the ground, blown completely out of my shoes with my
thundercats T-Shirt shredded, and my dad is on the other side of the
carport having what I can only assume was a Vietnam flashback:

ECHO BRAVO CHARLIE YOU'RE BRINGIN' EM IN TOO CLOSE!! CEASE FIRE. DAMNIT - CEASE FIRE!!!!!

His hat is blown off and is 30 ft behind him in the driveway. All
windows on the north side of the house are blown out and there is a slow
rolling mushroom cloud about 2000 ft. over our backyard. There is a Honda 185
3-wheeler parked on the other side of the yard and the fenders are drooped
down from the intense heat and are now touching the tires.

I wish I knew what I said to my dad at this moment. I don't know - I
know I said something. But I couldn't hear. I couldn't hear inside my own
head I don't think he heard me either... not that it would really matter. I
don't remember much from this point on. I said something, felt a sharp
pain, and then woke up later. I felt a sharp pain, blacked out, woke
later....repeat this process for an hour or so and you get the idea.
I remember at one point my mom had to give me CPR. and Dad was screaming
"Bring him back to life so I can kill him again".

Thanks Mom.

One thing is for sure... I never had to mow around that stump again,
Mom had been nagging about that thing for years and dad never did anything
about it. I had stepped up to the plate and handled business.

Dad sold his muzzle loader a week or so later. I still have some sort
of bone growth abnormality, either from the blast or the beating, or both.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, get your kids into archery.
But make sure there's adult supervision.


Author Unknown

I had to stop reading a couple times...to wipe my eyes from laughing! Makes you wonder how some succeeded to being grown ups.

Long story but good

That was

haha!! That was great!!!!




http://www.korbinsarchery.com/

That was too good!