Palm tree jungle gym

When we lived with Uncle Scott in La Palma, the palm tree in the front yard was my jungle gym.

It was small for a palm tree, about the same height as the two-story house. And it had reeeeeally big leaves. Bigger than my whole body.

The trunk was about the size of my waist and the skin was smooth but textured. Perfect for climbing. I liked to hook my arms around the trunk, and walk my way up the tree like a monkey. And when I got to the top, I’d jump down onto the cushy grass and roll, like they do in kung-fu movies.

Our palm tree also dropped little seeds about the size of a G.I. Joe head. Sometimes my cousins and I grabbed handfuls of these seeds and went to war using these as ammunition. They were light, so they didn’t hurt when you got hit. Well, not too much.

Every year, when summer came around, the perky green leaves would start to wither and droop. Sometimes the big leaves hung so low that they touched the ground. Cousin Doug and Dennis showed me how to make good use of this.

Because the stems of the leaves were still attached to the trunk, my cousins realized that we could swing from them. After watching them go a few times, I got the hang of it.

First, I grabbed a leaf as high up on it as I could, and walked around the tree a few times. Then running really fast, I jumped up and away from the tree so that the leaf became taut while I was in the air. And with enough speed, the leaf would unwind itself and swing me in circles around the trunk. We even competed to see who could be flung the farthest when they let go of the leaf in mid-air. As I remember, that was a dangerous contest because at the end of our small yard was a concrete sidewalk.

Cutting my nails was a big event

To prepare, I needed to first wash my hands and feet, then sit by the glass doors where there's lots of sun, and spread out a paper towel. When things were just right, I would sit like a little ball and clip and file away, oblivious to the world.

I always started by clipping the left hand first, because I'm a righty and I like warming up with my good hand. On the hand being clipped, palms were face down with fingers spread. Eventhough this was "what girls do" I didn't care. It's easier to squeeze the clippers in this position. The first cut on each nail is in the middle, so the curve of the nail matches the finger tip. Then the two ends are snipped off. It goes: index, middle, ring, pinky, and finally the thumb, which needs the big clipper 'cuz the curve on the regular clipper is too small for the big honkin' thumb nail.

After the fingernails were clipped, then it's time for filing. Left hand first, same order of fingers. Filing is what took the longest. First I would file the sides until they were round. Otherwise you'll get holes in your sweaters and socks. Then the uneven spots where the cuts overlapped would be shaved down. After that, the whole nail needed to be shaped so that it was a perfect curve. I liked my nails really round. The final step in filing is smoothing down the thin nail edge so that it doesn't hurt when you scratch an itch. But sometimes, the nail isn't perfectly smooth and beautifully round, so I would have to start over and clip it again. Usually on a do-over, I would have to cut a little bit into the pink part and it would sting or even bleed. But that's the price of perfection.

After the hands were done, then it's the feet's turn and it's pretty much the same thing. Well, except for the cheesey stuff that needed to be scraped out from under the big toe nails. Why does it smell like parmesan cheese? Yuck! Filing the big toe was kinda fun 'cuz it was like sculpting. The nail is so big that you can chip and sand for a long time.

When everything was nice and round and smooth, then the paper towel full of goodies would go in the trash. Then it was washing time. I would hop up on the counter and sit with my feet and hands in the bathroom sink, and soap up everything real good, especially under the nails. After drying off, I sometimes smelled my feet to make sure they were squeaky clean. When it was all done, usually two hours later, I would look at all my brand new shiny nails, and feel proud.

I hated showers

Baths were fun because of the bubbles and my cousins' battleship and my green Max Ray Centurion with the diving gear. But showers were pleading, screaming affairs with shampoo stinging my eyes and water attacking my face. My mom used to have to drag me into the shower with her to get the job done.

One day, Mom tried something different. She walked me into the bathroom when my cousin was showering. "Okay, Douglas" said Mom. The shower door opened halfway, and I could see Doug's head and shoulders. He waved hi. Then he stood facing away from the shower head and leaned back so the water wet his hair. Staying in that position, Doug shampood and rinsed, while Mom gave a running commentary on the technique. No stinging eyes, no attacking water! I was convinced.

Soon after, I started to brave the shower by myself. It wasn't as bad as I imagined. Sometimes I showered for an entire hour. Before, when I went swimming, I would never put my face underwater. But after mastering the shower, I called my friend a wimp 'cuz he was afraid to do it.

Bike tricks

My friends and I spent a lot of time riding our bmx bikes. To make things more fun, we would do tricks. Being small and under a hundred pounds, our range of tricks was limited. But it didn't matter cuz we had a blast anyway. Here's a comprehensive list of our bike tricks:

The first trick that any bike-loving boy learns to do is skidding out. This is when you slam the pedal backwards and the rear tire locks up and skids to a stop. The more advanced version would be to throw in a turn, making the rear tire swing in a semi-circle as it skids. And if you got enough speed, you can make the bike turn around 180 degrees! Skidding out was rad because it looked like what you see motorcycles do on TV and in movies. It also left cool-looking black tire marks, showing that you had pulled a trick there. The best was when you skidded out on dirt or gravel, and a cloud of dust or rocks shoots out from under your tire. But this was risky because you might fall and skin your knee if it's too slippery.

My second trick was hopping off curbs. That's where you use the tapered part of a driveway curb as a little ramp and jump off. The most satisfying feeling was getting lots of air and landing on both tires at the same time. You hardly feel the impact. But when I did it badly, there would be a loud thump and the gear chain would go <clang, clang, clank> against the metal guard.

One trick that we invented was the crooked skid. This is where you ride along a curb with your front tire on the high side, and your low tire skidding along crooked on the low side. The crooked skid was so fun cuz it could go on and on, as long as the curb was. But it really tore up your tires.

The bunny hop took me the longest to figure out. When done right, both tires leave the ground and you can hop over things like parking lot stumps. I kept thinking that I wasn't strong enough, cuz no matter how hard I pulled up on the handle bars, the back tire refused to go up. Later, a friend told me the secret: you have to kick up the pedals to lift the back tire.

There was one trick that none of us could really do: the wheelie. Again, I thought it was about pulling the handle bars up for a long time, until someone told me that you had to lean backwards. So while at my friend's house, I eagerly borrowed his bike to test out this new information. I tried leaning back a little bit a few times, and I was amazed that it actually worked for a brief moment. What a rush! So I decided to go for a really long wheelie. I pulled up, leaned back, and suddenly I was looking at the sky. With a jolt of pain, I landed smack on my tailbone. I looked and saw the bike continuing its wheelie down the street. I do believe that was my last wheelie attempt.