Tales of Nick's Youth

As I get older, the memories of my youth get clouded over. My friend Chuck and I always like to look back at things we did when we were younger and wonder why we did them. Our excuse is always, well we were seventeen. When you are that age you can do things that logic dictates you should not do. So, with that in mind here are some more stories from my youth.

The Swimming Pool
It had snowed. Anyone familiar with the Southwest Suburbs knows about the hill on like 90^th and Roberts Road. It is a perfect place to bring a sled and go sledding on a snowy, winter night. So, one particular evening my friends and I decided to hit the hill and go sledding. Of course none of us actually owned a sled. Therefore, we decided to improvise.

Someone, (I am still not sure who) had a kids plastic swimming pool. You know the kind, you fill it up with a hose in the summer and youngsters splash around in it for awhile. Anyway, someone came up with the bright idea to go down the hill in that. We figured it could hold all of us, (I think there were like 8 people that night.)

As insane and dangerous as that idea was, we had to top it. Someone mentioned that we should spray the bottom of the pool with Pam so we could go faster down the hill. So, we deposited a whole can of it to the pool making it beyond slippery. We eventually got to the hill and all pilled in.

I can’t remember who was there that night. But, like I said there were about eight of us. We all jumped into the kiddie pool and took off down the hill. We made it about ten to fifteen feet before we hit a bump and were thrown in eight different directions sending us all to roll down the hill. One thing we didn’t count on was that a toy swimming pool does not come accompanied with a steering wheel or brakes. So, as we started our descent we had no way to control the thing. As we got to the bottom of the hill worse for wear I realized that during the voyage, I had lost my keys. I would never find them in the snowy night. I chalked it up to a lesson learned.

The Impala Grill
I have yet another story that involves snow and youth. A favorite pastime of suburban youth back in the day was doing doughnuts. Basically, you would try to find a not yet plowed preferably empty parking lot. There you would take your car speed up and then brake and turn the wheel at the same time, causing the car to become a sort of tilt a whirl.

Well, one night Dell, myself, and again Jim Lave piled into Dell’s Impala. We hit the Kmart parking lot after the store had closed. The snow had just fallen making the lot a perfect place to do some doughnuts. It was a snowy winter already so, the snow plows had plowed all the previous snow into these huge mountains of white powder.

As we hit the lot Dell had the Impala doing some pretty good doughnuts. Eventually, he really gunned it and slammed on the brakes, and we started spinning out of control and the car slid head first right into a huge snow bank. As we backed out the grill of the Impala was full of snow.

Mike did not want his Mom asking questions as to why the grill was full of snow. So, we headed to the Kean gas station on 83^rd and Harlem and took the air hose and “blew” the snow out of the grill. We looked ridicules as we had the air hose pointed at the front of the car but, sure enough it worked and his Mom never found out about it.

Out of Gas
I was driving Lou’s Buick Riviera. It was the worst car in the world for a teenager to drive because the thing drank gas faster then a teen can shotgun a beer. It got blocks to the gallon not miles. I used to get paid Friday nights at K Mart. It was nice in that they gave you cash. I had the Riv one Friday night and it was on E. I was going to head straight to the gas station with my pay check as soon as work was out to fill up.

However, everyone in my posse was going bowling at El Mar. The bowling alley is a couple of blocks from again, a Kean gas station so, I figured I could make it to El Mar and then as soon as we were done bowling I could get to Kean to fill up the car. I would be mistaken.

We got done bowling and I got in my car with every intention of heading straight to Kean. As I was pulling out, my friend Chuck stopped me and starting bullshitting with me as my car was running. Why I simply didn’t shut the engine off, I do not know. So, after we get done shooting the shit, Chuck gets in his car and I attempt to pull out on to Harlem. As I go to make a right turn the car runs out of gas.

Chuck meanwhile slips out the other exit at El Mar and drives right by my stranded car on Harlem ignoring my frantic waves. (To this day he claims he didn’t see me.) So, I push the car back into El Mar, and realize I am going to have to walk to Kean to get some gas. I had Kim Geisler in the car with me and even though she lived right by the gas station she was kind enough to walk with me to get the gas and back with me to the car.

Now, of course I did not have a gas can with me. I was young and cheap so, I hatched a plan, where I would pour out the windshield washer fluid that was in the trunk, pump the gas into that and then I bought a bottle of that heat crap so, I could fit it into the gas tank. So, after I pumped the gas into the windshield washer fluid bottle which is illegal I might add, I paid for it and walked back to the car.

I then added the heat into the tank and then had a system where I would pour the gas into the heat bottle and then shove into my tank. I then tried to start the car and nothing. So, I opened the hood and poured some of the gas directly into the carburetor. I had Kim start the car, and still nothing. It was then I realized it wasn’t turning over at all, which meant the starter was gone.

Thankfully, I had experience with this as well. I had a large screwdriver in the trunk and Lou taught me a trick where you can basically jump the starter by using the screwdriver and jumping the bolts so it turns over. So, I manually turned over the starter and then had Kim turn the engine again and this time at long last the car started.

I got in and floored the thing as I knew I was running on fumes to Kean, where at long last I could fill it up. Not wanting to have to jump the starter again I never turned the engine off. That would be the only time in my life where I ran out of gas. I guess it is good I knew how to prime a carburetor and jump a starter or I would have been stuck there even longer.