A Kid’s Depression Survival Kit

A while back I watched the flying fingers of my niece move from letter to letter on a cell phone. She was doing that texting thing. On the computer, my grandchildren shoot down invading space ships or fight their way to rescue princesses from huge dark castles. My granddaughter told me about winning a monopoly 먹튀사이트 game. When she told me how much money she had, I remarked that I didn’t know there was that much money in a monopoly game. “Grandpa, it doesn’t have money,” I was told. The new Monopoly game has no real fake money. A computer keeps track of the players’ wealth.

If really bad economic times should come, the kids may find the fancy gadgets and games a thing of the past. If that happens, they needn’t worry. It’s grandpa to the rescue with a kid’s depression survival kit. We were actually post depression kids, but its effects lingered into the days of our youth so times were tight enough that we had to develop the items that go in the kit.

If you are fortunate enough to have non-politically correct parents who still let you play cowboys and robbers, you have surely noticed that a holster wears out before the cap pistol. Not to fear, mom’s kitchen cabinet to the rescue. We sliced a couple of holes through the top of a brown sugar box, threaded it through our belts, holstered, or should I say, boxed our guns, mounted our fleet stick horses and headed out to capture the gang of bank robbers.

Believe it or not, I am not as old as football. But I am old enough to be from a time when we didn’t always have a real football. We simply headed for momma’s rag bag. Your momma does still have a rag bag doesn’t she? Well, maybe not. You may have to go to her closet and get one of her good blouses, instead. Tear the blouse into small strips, take the top off of a dishwashing liquid bottle, and fill it up with the strips. We got so good throwing a yellow Joy bottle football that we could release a spiral that would’ve made Jonny “U” green with envy.

My brothers and sisters and I used to play a game that we can just call, “Neighbors.” Each of us would assume the identity of a neighbor and play like we were grownups going about grown up business. Back then neighbors used to call each other on the phone and just chat. We needed to be able to talk to one another on the phone in our game, so we would take a nail and drive it through the bottom of a couple of tin cans. Then we would run a piece of long string through the holes, tie each end with a nail, and stretch our homemade phone lines from one place to another. I still believe we could actually hear one another through those low-tech devices.

Kids, if these ideas don’t give you plenty of hints for how to improvise in the coming depression, come on back and I’ll tell you about dining chair automobiles and how to make a parachute that works great for jumping off the top of the barn. Well, maybe I’d better leave off that one.

There’s one more I probably ought to leave off too, but since they say confession is good for the soul I am going to tell it for my siblings’ enlightenment. I had the idea that our tin telephones could be redesigned to make a microphone. I cut the appliance end off an extension cord wrapped the bare ends around a nail, threaded it through the bottom of a can, and plugged that sucker into the wall. Do ya’ll remember that day the fuse in the house blew and nobody knew why? One of us did! Now you know the rest of the story. I’m just glad I wasn’t holding the can when I plugged it in or the rest of the story would have come out a long time ago!

The point I am making here folks is this: we parents and grandparents might consider not furnishing our children with too many of the present day play things lest we run the risk of stifling their ingenuity and improvisation skills. Encourage their imagination. Who knows one of them might actually come up with a renewable energy source to replace fossil fuels and old men’s hot air!