When I was a kid, I joined the Cub Scouts. It was pretty cool. We made alot of stuff. The one thing we made that I remember was a beaded belt. We bought a loom , and had to put beads on it. I drew the coolest "indian" aka native american designs. Then figured out how many beads of each color in each row to get that design on the belt. It came out awesome. I remember the patterns clearly. I happened to also be a really good artist in my youth. Somehow I lost that ability over the years. Morty Stumacher was our cubmaster, it was Troop 576 East New York. and Normal Keller was our Den mother , den 2. As a cubscout we got arrow points that our moms sewed onto our uniforms, and then progressed from bobcat to weblow. No it's not We BLOW, it was weblow. Every year they had the Cub-a ral, it was a citywide sports competition for cubscouts. It was held in prospect park. Me and this guy Mark practiced and practiced for the 3-legged race. We tied our legs together and got the timing down and ran. We were good. The day of the race came, we were ready. The gun fired and we were off. We were winning the race. There were 12 entries,and we were winning against some really fast runners. We could see the finish line, we were right there, and these two guys running next to us, dove for the finish line, breaking the ribbon and they won. Who knew about diving? Well we did a good job and got silver medals. I was a proud cubscout.
The next year, I joined the boyscouts, that may have been Troop 576, and the hats were like army hats, not like the dorky cubscout hats. I was a Tenderfoot, the lowest rank. We had our Camporee. It was held in Alpine,NJ. We had to get ready for this campout. We had to buy backacks, canteen, waterproof match holder, compass, boyscout knife, mess kit and eating utensils, and more stuff. The pack weighed more than I did. We hiked I think 10 miles with the packs on our backs, I thought I was going to die. but we all made it. Our patrol was called the Hawk Patrol. Jerry Mazzerella was our Scout Master. I forgot who else was in charge of our group. The guys in our tent were, Sandy Schmidt, Freddie Hodges, David Robinson, Gipson Talbert, Teddy"thinman"Fields,and Norman Rappaport. I forget if anyone else was in our Patrol. All I remember is these guys were farting all night. It stunk in that tent. I don't know what these guys ate, but they could have been the secret weapon our country was looking for back then. Finally, I fell asleep, or was knocked out by the gas. The next day we had to wash in the coldest stream. It was freezing. The day went on, and I took out my switchblade. We werent allowed to have switchblades. They were against the law. But my father was a policeman and he confiscated illegal weapons from people and brought them home. Most of the time he broke the points off knives, so I would stab my brothers or sisters. But the switchblade still had the point. It was sharp and the handle was white mother of pearl. It was really cool . So I figured I have to carve my initials in a tree. Afterall, I was somewhere I;d never been, and what if someone else showed up next year and they knew me, it would be really cool if they saw my initials. There I was , carving very stylish initials in this tree. All of a sudden, a huge hand grabs my shoulder and turns me and takes the knife away. It was one of the guys in charge. Boyscout law says you can't cut live wood. I was carving not cutting. I didn;t use my axe. I carved one and a half initials. I didn't even get a chance to finish them. They confiscated my switchblade, and then punished me. They made me stand outside that night, barefoot, holding two big rocks in each hand. It was hard to keep the rocks at shoulder level. They were heavy and everytime my arms dropped, the guy watching me would say "up with the hands". What a horrible night. I hated the boyscouts of America. That was my last weekend as a member, I quit, and was so happy about it. When I got home, I took some paint and reached outside my bedroom window on Stanley Ave. and painted my initials outside my window. Both initials, not one and a half. Many many years later, I went by that building on Stanley Ave., those initials are still there. I took a picture and if i knew how to post pictures I would show you all.
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