11-22-2019, 08:49 PM
(This post was last modified: 05-10-2022, 12:21 AM by Terry Bentley.)
Back when I was in 7th grade, my language arts teacher made everyone do an odd assignment. We had to write a story using real characters, like family, friends, acquaintances, etc, but basing it back to when we(the class) were born. The subject could be of our choice, but had to reflect on the way of life was back then. This did require a little bit of research, since I didnt have a real grasp of the way things were like when I was first born. Obviously
I racked my head on what to write about. It was always all or none on this type of assignment for me. There was no room for compromise, so the subject had to be spot on or I would loose interest really fast. It was a major grade which was another issue with doing the assignment well. So basically a term paper, and it had consequences in my real life at the time too.
Anyway while digging thru some old stuff, found some of the pages I had written. Or basically some notes that were put together to write the story. Since about the only thing I had any real interest in at the time was one day start racing, then that is what the subject would be. Fortunately I had all of those old magazines from the time I was born. I had already read all of them cover to cover several times over. So I at least had an idea of how some things were back then.
The story got fairly involved, because I was writing it in almost real time about the beginnings of me first racing. The assignment kept my interest, since it would be just like printing out what was happening on a daily basis relevant to racing.
This story is pure fiction, but based on real situations and some real people, I knew at the time. Here is the first chapter below. If anyone thinks it is interesting and wants to read more, I will post another. If not no loss or hard feelings. The notes I had jotted down umpteen years ago are anything but legible. Since the notes are ruff I need to translate my scribbling to real English, proof and type it up. If it is a bust, then I wont waste your time. Just let me know if you like it or not.
The Bench Racers Journal
Chapter 1
Hey Terry, great party. So how do you feel? Uh, what? Hi Steve. Where the heck have you been hiding? What are you talking about anyway? I have been hiding from your jerk of a brother. As if it wasnt obvious. Oh come on. You know exactly what I mean. Its your 13th birthday today. So how does it feel, not being a little kid anymore? Dad says when I turn 13 in a few months, that I become a man. He is going to treat me like an adult so I better start learning how to act like one. I should be more responsible and be doing more around the house to help out.
Oh yea, Happy Birthday. Here, this is for you. Wow! A present! For me? I told you that wasnt necessary. We agreed not to exchange gifts, remember. At least until we were older and could afford to. Yea, I remember. But mom and dad wanted to get something for you anyway. Since you are always helping dad fix things like that crappy McCulloch lawnmower. Dad said he wishes he would have never bought that piece of $&!+. Well you know what my dad would say anyway. And you know mom doesnt given him a minutes peace when it breaks down either.
Hey open it up. OK, OK. Let me try to guess what it is first. Big yellow envelope with my name mailed to your address. Hum? Its not heavy enough to be a set of Craftsman wrenches I was drooling over at Sears the other day. They would go great with the 1/4" socket set from my parents. Quit joking around and just open it. Terry, did I ever tell you how weird you are? Most guys our age are shooting GI Joes with their BB guns or hard core in school sports. Jeez, you gotta have tools and even get excited when someone gives you an old rusty patio chair frame. I just dont know about you.
Hey Steve, dont blame me. Dad says I get it from grandpa. He spent the last 30 years as a machinist building airplanes. And besides you sure wernt complaining when we built that wooden cart out of crates from those plans we found in the school library. Dang it! Would you just open it up already!!!!!! OK, OK........Holy COW!!! The December, January, and February issues of KARTING WORLD. Man thanks. These were sold out at 7-11, and I didnt get a chance to read them. Mr Foster, behind the counter told me to quit looking if I aint gonna to buy them. Wow, thanks a bunch. It would take a lot of pop bottles for me to buy all of these. Tell your parents thanks.
Hey, T, you can spend your bottle money on something else now because my parents paid for two full years subscription. You are good all the way thru the end of 1962. I bought the December 1960 issue myself, but mom and dad paid for the rest. I figured since all you do is talk about racing karts, and know you are going to get me hooked on them too...Well thats why these issues came to my address first. I wanted to get caught up on what is out there. So when you start reciting every page telling me about all the new stuff, I will kinda know what you are talking about.
Do you remember last summer right before school started back up? We spent the night in the back yard in my tent. You talked me in to sneaking out past dark and going to the 7-11 to see if the September issue of Karting World or Racing Karts were on the magazine rack yet. Between your bottles and mine, we had the 35 cents to buy one issue. I think Mr Foster almost had a heart attack when you actually paid for the mag. Then he threatened to call the cops for being out after curfew on Friday nite. I think dad would have grounded me until I was out of college if we got caught by the police and issued a citation. So we high tailed it out of the store and promised Mr Foster we were going straight home and please dont call. Anyway you stayed up all night reading and talking about the karts and how much fun they would be to race.
I really didnt understand what you meant until we were racing our bikes down the Hunnicut hill after school one day. I was actually beating you when old Mrs Lawler started backing out of her driveway and didnt see us. You went right and I went to the left of her Rambler. It was a real adrenaline rush to make that split second decision and totally avoided a collision with her car. I stopped and turned around just in time to see you launching off your bike midair and go thru the hedges at the Eakins house. It was weird seeing your bike just stop so suddenly and pivot over on your front wheel. But you didnt slow down. It looked like you went ten feet up in the air. Then sliding so far ending up laying face down in the grass. I am glad they were not home. You really did a number on the grass too. Coach Eakin is so anal about keeping his lawn perfect. I remember there was grass stains all over your face too. How did you get that cleaned off anyway? You must have swerved really hard to avoid slamming into her car then crash like that.
The Holly bush you ventilated didnt look too badly hurt compared to all of the scratches you had on your face and arms. Sorry, but I really thought it was funny. When you came limping back, I told you we could finish that race another day. Then you just grinned and said no way. That I had won fair and square. I made the right decision and thats all part of racing. Until that moment, I had not felt that rush you always get when talking about racing.
Gee, Steve that sure was a detailed flashback of a few months ago. I almost had forgotten about that day. Well at least I sure wanted to forget. Are you like keeping a diary or something? I notice you are always jotting things down. Nope you just wish. Its a habit I have picked up working with dad building cabinets. He is always telling me to jot down dimensions when I help him at jobs in a customers kitchen. And besides I kept thinking about what you were saying when we watched the race at Indianapolis last May. You kept loosing me when explaining about timing the pit stops at certain laps and what changed when there was a wreck or caution flags.
I didnt realize how that much was going on during a race. I just thought you raced fast as you could and stopped to refuel right before running out of gas. All that other technical stuff did not make sense at all until we raced our bikes. Well Terry, mom just drove up and is waving at me. I guess I am leaving. Anyway hope you have a great birthday and will see you at school on Monday. Yea, sounds like a plan. Thanks again for everything and be sure to tell your parents. Tell my parents what? Dude, get out of here!
I racked my head on what to write about. It was always all or none on this type of assignment for me. There was no room for compromise, so the subject had to be spot on or I would loose interest really fast. It was a major grade which was another issue with doing the assignment well. So basically a term paper, and it had consequences in my real life at the time too.
Anyway while digging thru some old stuff, found some of the pages I had written. Or basically some notes that were put together to write the story. Since about the only thing I had any real interest in at the time was one day start racing, then that is what the subject would be. Fortunately I had all of those old magazines from the time I was born. I had already read all of them cover to cover several times over. So I at least had an idea of how some things were back then.
The story got fairly involved, because I was writing it in almost real time about the beginnings of me first racing. The assignment kept my interest, since it would be just like printing out what was happening on a daily basis relevant to racing.
This story is pure fiction, but based on real situations and some real people, I knew at the time. Here is the first chapter below. If anyone thinks it is interesting and wants to read more, I will post another. If not no loss or hard feelings. The notes I had jotted down umpteen years ago are anything but legible. Since the notes are ruff I need to translate my scribbling to real English, proof and type it up. If it is a bust, then I wont waste your time. Just let me know if you like it or not.
The Bench Racers Journal
Chapter 1
Hey Terry, great party. So how do you feel? Uh, what? Hi Steve. Where the heck have you been hiding? What are you talking about anyway? I have been hiding from your jerk of a brother. As if it wasnt obvious. Oh come on. You know exactly what I mean. Its your 13th birthday today. So how does it feel, not being a little kid anymore? Dad says when I turn 13 in a few months, that I become a man. He is going to treat me like an adult so I better start learning how to act like one. I should be more responsible and be doing more around the house to help out.
Oh yea, Happy Birthday. Here, this is for you. Wow! A present! For me? I told you that wasnt necessary. We agreed not to exchange gifts, remember. At least until we were older and could afford to. Yea, I remember. But mom and dad wanted to get something for you anyway. Since you are always helping dad fix things like that crappy McCulloch lawnmower. Dad said he wishes he would have never bought that piece of $&!+. Well you know what my dad would say anyway. And you know mom doesnt given him a minutes peace when it breaks down either.
Hey open it up. OK, OK. Let me try to guess what it is first. Big yellow envelope with my name mailed to your address. Hum? Its not heavy enough to be a set of Craftsman wrenches I was drooling over at Sears the other day. They would go great with the 1/4" socket set from my parents. Quit joking around and just open it. Terry, did I ever tell you how weird you are? Most guys our age are shooting GI Joes with their BB guns or hard core in school sports. Jeez, you gotta have tools and even get excited when someone gives you an old rusty patio chair frame. I just dont know about you.
Hey Steve, dont blame me. Dad says I get it from grandpa. He spent the last 30 years as a machinist building airplanes. And besides you sure wernt complaining when we built that wooden cart out of crates from those plans we found in the school library. Dang it! Would you just open it up already!!!!!! OK, OK........Holy COW!!! The December, January, and February issues of KARTING WORLD. Man thanks. These were sold out at 7-11, and I didnt get a chance to read them. Mr Foster, behind the counter told me to quit looking if I aint gonna to buy them. Wow, thanks a bunch. It would take a lot of pop bottles for me to buy all of these. Tell your parents thanks.
Hey, T, you can spend your bottle money on something else now because my parents paid for two full years subscription. You are good all the way thru the end of 1962. I bought the December 1960 issue myself, but mom and dad paid for the rest. I figured since all you do is talk about racing karts, and know you are going to get me hooked on them too...Well thats why these issues came to my address first. I wanted to get caught up on what is out there. So when you start reciting every page telling me about all the new stuff, I will kinda know what you are talking about.
Do you remember last summer right before school started back up? We spent the night in the back yard in my tent. You talked me in to sneaking out past dark and going to the 7-11 to see if the September issue of Karting World or Racing Karts were on the magazine rack yet. Between your bottles and mine, we had the 35 cents to buy one issue. I think Mr Foster almost had a heart attack when you actually paid for the mag. Then he threatened to call the cops for being out after curfew on Friday nite. I think dad would have grounded me until I was out of college if we got caught by the police and issued a citation. So we high tailed it out of the store and promised Mr Foster we were going straight home and please dont call. Anyway you stayed up all night reading and talking about the karts and how much fun they would be to race.
I really didnt understand what you meant until we were racing our bikes down the Hunnicut hill after school one day. I was actually beating you when old Mrs Lawler started backing out of her driveway and didnt see us. You went right and I went to the left of her Rambler. It was a real adrenaline rush to make that split second decision and totally avoided a collision with her car. I stopped and turned around just in time to see you launching off your bike midair and go thru the hedges at the Eakins house. It was weird seeing your bike just stop so suddenly and pivot over on your front wheel. But you didnt slow down. It looked like you went ten feet up in the air. Then sliding so far ending up laying face down in the grass. I am glad they were not home. You really did a number on the grass too. Coach Eakin is so anal about keeping his lawn perfect. I remember there was grass stains all over your face too. How did you get that cleaned off anyway? You must have swerved really hard to avoid slamming into her car then crash like that.
The Holly bush you ventilated didnt look too badly hurt compared to all of the scratches you had on your face and arms. Sorry, but I really thought it was funny. When you came limping back, I told you we could finish that race another day. Then you just grinned and said no way. That I had won fair and square. I made the right decision and thats all part of racing. Until that moment, I had not felt that rush you always get when talking about racing.
Gee, Steve that sure was a detailed flashback of a few months ago. I almost had forgotten about that day. Well at least I sure wanted to forget. Are you like keeping a diary or something? I notice you are always jotting things down. Nope you just wish. Its a habit I have picked up working with dad building cabinets. He is always telling me to jot down dimensions when I help him at jobs in a customers kitchen. And besides I kept thinking about what you were saying when we watched the race at Indianapolis last May. You kept loosing me when explaining about timing the pit stops at certain laps and what changed when there was a wreck or caution flags.
I didnt realize how that much was going on during a race. I just thought you raced fast as you could and stopped to refuel right before running out of gas. All that other technical stuff did not make sense at all until we raced our bikes. Well Terry, mom just drove up and is waving at me. I guess I am leaving. Anyway hope you have a great birthday and will see you at school on Monday. Yea, sounds like a plan. Thanks again for everything and be sure to tell your parents. Tell my parents what? Dude, get out of here!