Way back in 1954, television hadn't really kicked in as primary entertainment for eight-year-old boys like me and my best friend Jerry.
We mostly had to entertain ourselves with various "pretend" games using whatever objects we could find.
This wasn't too hard because Jerry was a farm kid, so there were always lots of things lying around.
Anyway, the biggest kick we got all week was when our parents handed us seventy-five cents and sent us to a matinee at the Fox Theatre.
It was the only theatre in town, and it featured a nice, big screen.
Matinees were set up perfectly for getting rid of kids for an entire afternoon, too.
We got a cartoon, a news reel (during which we would go buy candy with our leftover money), a serial or two, and then the main feature.
One weekend, our parents sent Jerry and me off to see Robin Hood with Errol Flynn and Basil Rathbone.
This was a terrific movie, and it totally captivated both of us.
The impact the sword-fight scene had on us was monstrous.
It was even more so because we weren't jaded with tons of television.
Yet.
It was all we could talk about when we arrived back at Jerry's farm.
Our parents retired to the living room to play cards, and Jerry and I went outside to see if we could figure out some way to play Robin Hood.
The first thing we needed were swords.
We found an old orange crate and made a pretty good pair out of the slats.
Jerry announced that he should be Robin Hood, because, after all, it was his house.
I had no argument with that, and we began slashing at each other with the swords.
Now, I imagine every single boy from that era had, at least once, made swords out of crate slats.
And you all know what the problem with them is.
When you hit them together in the heat of battle, they don't make that glorious ringing sound like from the movie.
No, they make a kind of "thunk" sound that is also sort of "splintery.
" Well, this was fine with me, but Jerry thought we could do much better.
The thing you need to know about my friend, Jerry, is that not only was he a farm kid, but he was the middle child of four siblings, all of whom were in and out of various forms of trouble most of the time.
This meant that he was pretty much without any adult supervision until he did something wrong.
So when Jerry got an idea, it usually came with an equal measure of fun and peril.
Jerry said, "Follow me.
" We crept into the kitchen.
Our parents were deep into their card game, and we could hear the usual "card" talk that meant nothing to us except that we probably wouldn't be bothered for a while.
Jerry went to one of the drawers and pulled out two of his mom's heaviest carving knives.
Jerry turned to me and said, "Sir knight.
Chose your weapon.
" I remember thinking, "What a GREAT IDEA.
Jerry was the BEST.
" With these two, fine beaten swords, we could really play Robin Hood! I chose mine carefully, and we crept back outside.
Now, those of you who know the movie, Robin Hood, know that the very best scene of the movie (and possibly the very best scene of any movie ever filmed) took place as Errol confronts Basil in the vast castle where they engage in a sword fight to the death.
They fight among the castle's turrets with dramatic shadows being thrown here and there - swords clanging with each stroke.
Jerry and I went over to the silos, which were not far from the little farm house.
They looked just like castle turrets.
I was really getting excited.
Then Jerry looked at me with the most serious expression he could muster and said, "On guard!" He struck down at me as hard as he could.
I saw the wonderful flash of good Sheffield steel as the blade arched down toward my head.
I parried the cut with my own blade just in time, and they made the most wonderful clang as they crashed together.
We both just stood there for an instant, smiling at each other.
What a GREAT idea.
I still remember the sound and the feel of those mighty blades crashing against each other as though it happened yesterday.
It was wonderful! Then the battle took off in fury.
Our fine blades clanging together like the ringing of church bells - CLANG, CLANG, CLANG.
We were two fearless knights locked in mortal combat for the very future of Merry Old England...
Norman against Saxon.
Saxon against Norman.
Each one nearly losing advantage, then gaining it again as the mighty battle progressed.
There was true glory that day as the conflict played out - just like in the movie! CLANG, CLANG, CLANG as we moved among the mighty castle's turrets.
CLANG, CLANG, CLANG...
we WERE English knights.
We WERE back in Old England.
Our blades flashing and clanging...
we were totally absorbed by the beauty and glory of this mighty battle to the DEATH! Suddenly, we were frozen in mid swing by a horrendous screaming.
We looked over to see the horrifying sight of Jerry's mother screaming with her hands clenched into tight fists.
As we stopped the battle, Jerry's mother stopped her screaming.
I guess she had heard the clanging sounds and come out to see what was happening.
With her screams, the card game was forgotten, and the rest of our parents were pouring out the door with deadly expressions on their faces.
We just stood there, totally unsure of what to do.
This didn't happen in the movie.
Our once mighty blades poised for yet another strike when Jerry's mom asked the question that I have been asked all of my life and for which I have never had a good answer, "WHAT are you DOING?" How could we explain about the Normans and the Saxons to a woman who looked like she was about to eat her young? We just stammered.
Then my dad said, "It looks like you two are trying to ruin a perfectly good pair of carving knives.
Are you a couple of knuckleheads?" The sad truth of it was that we were, actually, a couple of knuckleheads - not glorious knights - just knuckleheads.
And yes, we were ruining a pair of good carving knives.
I don't really remember much of what happened after that.
In fact, I don't even remember what our punishment was, although it must have been pretty spectacular.
Jerry later told me that his dad took the knives out to the machine shop and ground out all the notches on a big grinding wheel.
The blades were even better for carving after that because they were kind of serrated, and his mom used them for years.
I only wish Jerry could have inherited them.
The only thing I still remember vividly is how wonderfully good those mighty blades felt and sounded as we battled amongst the turrets of that English castle.
Yes, like many things I did in my youth that brought on waves of punishment, it was totally worth it.
We mostly had to entertain ourselves with various "pretend" games using whatever objects we could find.
This wasn't too hard because Jerry was a farm kid, so there were always lots of things lying around.
Anyway, the biggest kick we got all week was when our parents handed us seventy-five cents and sent us to a matinee at the Fox Theatre.
It was the only theatre in town, and it featured a nice, big screen.
Matinees were set up perfectly for getting rid of kids for an entire afternoon, too.
We got a cartoon, a news reel (during which we would go buy candy with our leftover money), a serial or two, and then the main feature.
One weekend, our parents sent Jerry and me off to see Robin Hood with Errol Flynn and Basil Rathbone.
This was a terrific movie, and it totally captivated both of us.
The impact the sword-fight scene had on us was monstrous.
It was even more so because we weren't jaded with tons of television.
Yet.
It was all we could talk about when we arrived back at Jerry's farm.
Our parents retired to the living room to play cards, and Jerry and I went outside to see if we could figure out some way to play Robin Hood.
The first thing we needed were swords.
We found an old orange crate and made a pretty good pair out of the slats.
Jerry announced that he should be Robin Hood, because, after all, it was his house.
I had no argument with that, and we began slashing at each other with the swords.
Now, I imagine every single boy from that era had, at least once, made swords out of crate slats.
And you all know what the problem with them is.
When you hit them together in the heat of battle, they don't make that glorious ringing sound like from the movie.
No, they make a kind of "thunk" sound that is also sort of "splintery.
" Well, this was fine with me, but Jerry thought we could do much better.
The thing you need to know about my friend, Jerry, is that not only was he a farm kid, but he was the middle child of four siblings, all of whom were in and out of various forms of trouble most of the time.
This meant that he was pretty much without any adult supervision until he did something wrong.
So when Jerry got an idea, it usually came with an equal measure of fun and peril.
Jerry said, "Follow me.
" We crept into the kitchen.
Our parents were deep into their card game, and we could hear the usual "card" talk that meant nothing to us except that we probably wouldn't be bothered for a while.
Jerry went to one of the drawers and pulled out two of his mom's heaviest carving knives.
Jerry turned to me and said, "Sir knight.
Chose your weapon.
" I remember thinking, "What a GREAT IDEA.
Jerry was the BEST.
" With these two, fine beaten swords, we could really play Robin Hood! I chose mine carefully, and we crept back outside.
Now, those of you who know the movie, Robin Hood, know that the very best scene of the movie (and possibly the very best scene of any movie ever filmed) took place as Errol confronts Basil in the vast castle where they engage in a sword fight to the death.
They fight among the castle's turrets with dramatic shadows being thrown here and there - swords clanging with each stroke.
Jerry and I went over to the silos, which were not far from the little farm house.
They looked just like castle turrets.
I was really getting excited.
Then Jerry looked at me with the most serious expression he could muster and said, "On guard!" He struck down at me as hard as he could.
I saw the wonderful flash of good Sheffield steel as the blade arched down toward my head.
I parried the cut with my own blade just in time, and they made the most wonderful clang as they crashed together.
We both just stood there for an instant, smiling at each other.
What a GREAT idea.
I still remember the sound and the feel of those mighty blades crashing against each other as though it happened yesterday.
It was wonderful! Then the battle took off in fury.
Our fine blades clanging together like the ringing of church bells - CLANG, CLANG, CLANG.
We were two fearless knights locked in mortal combat for the very future of Merry Old England...
Norman against Saxon.
Saxon against Norman.
Each one nearly losing advantage, then gaining it again as the mighty battle progressed.
There was true glory that day as the conflict played out - just like in the movie! CLANG, CLANG, CLANG as we moved among the mighty castle's turrets.
CLANG, CLANG, CLANG...
we WERE English knights.
We WERE back in Old England.
Our blades flashing and clanging...
we were totally absorbed by the beauty and glory of this mighty battle to the DEATH! Suddenly, we were frozen in mid swing by a horrendous screaming.
We looked over to see the horrifying sight of Jerry's mother screaming with her hands clenched into tight fists.
As we stopped the battle, Jerry's mother stopped her screaming.
I guess she had heard the clanging sounds and come out to see what was happening.
With her screams, the card game was forgotten, and the rest of our parents were pouring out the door with deadly expressions on their faces.
We just stood there, totally unsure of what to do.
This didn't happen in the movie.
Our once mighty blades poised for yet another strike when Jerry's mom asked the question that I have been asked all of my life and for which I have never had a good answer, "WHAT are you DOING?" How could we explain about the Normans and the Saxons to a woman who looked like she was about to eat her young? We just stammered.
Then my dad said, "It looks like you two are trying to ruin a perfectly good pair of carving knives.
Are you a couple of knuckleheads?" The sad truth of it was that we were, actually, a couple of knuckleheads - not glorious knights - just knuckleheads.
And yes, we were ruining a pair of good carving knives.
I don't really remember much of what happened after that.
In fact, I don't even remember what our punishment was, although it must have been pretty spectacular.
Jerry later told me that his dad took the knives out to the machine shop and ground out all the notches on a big grinding wheel.
The blades were even better for carving after that because they were kind of serrated, and his mom used them for years.
I only wish Jerry could have inherited them.
The only thing I still remember vividly is how wonderfully good those mighty blades felt and sounded as we battled amongst the turrets of that English castle.
Yes, like many things I did in my youth that brought on waves of punishment, it was totally worth it.