I've done LOTS of stuff I won't divulge. But on the safer side, one thing I used to do and it drove hubby crazy because he is the opposite of me, - (don't make a scene, don't act goofy, etc.) - I used to carry a pair of those funny glasses with the springs and the eyeballs at the end and when we would stop at traffic lights I'd put them on and stare at the cars beside us. He HATED that! LOL!

I used to have a neighbor who put out gobs of cheap holiday decorations every holiday. Then she would leave half of them out until the next holiday. So one Easter she had all her crap out there but also the giant black kettle from Halloween. So I waited until she was gone and I put some of the rabbits and ducks, etc. in the kettle with their heads sticking out and painted "Wabbit Stew" on the front of the kettle. It was hilarious. She knew immediately who did it because I had done other stuff to her stuff that I can't say on this forum.

Isn't it odd that the crazy, maybe even stupid, things that we do in life are often the ones that make us smile as we grow older. I'm not sure that this was the craziest thing I ever did but it was certainly one of the silliest: Found a dead armadillo on the side of the road. Placed it on its back at the nearest turn medium and placed an empty beer can in its paws. If you do this and take a picture you're an official redneck!

Ok I thought of something I can share. There is a bunch I wouldn't dare share. This one falls in the crazy teenager category. When I was 17 I ran away from an abusive home & right into a hippie commune in Montreal. I lived in that commune for about a year and during that time we went to several peace marches and love-ins. That was 1967 and Jefferson Airplane was doing a concert when I got there and I got to go to that concert and what a great concert that was!

You never knew you have a former hippie in your midst!

When I was 17, I went to Woodstock with my 21 year old boyfriend. My mother thought I was at the beach with my friends. It was horrible. My BF had just gotten back from Viet Nam, and he was much into all the drugs and drinking, but I was totally innocent. I enjoyed the rock 'n roll, but skipped the sex and drugs. I've never been to another rock festival.

You guys are an interesting and varied lot. Me? I better just keep quiet!

Silvia, what an exciting story! Much better than 2 days in the mud with a bunch of stoned hippies. You are so adventurous! I'm not. I don't think I'll ever leave the North American continent. I'm seriously considering retiring to Mexico, though.

Oh come on Tom. Spill it!

Insufficient bandwidth, I'm afraid. And fear has not been my specialty at all through this life, if that's any clue!

Come on Tom don't tease us :)

I was living in France one summer, and I read about this cave way up in the mountains that had prehistoric cave paintings from 40,000 years ago. I had no idea how to get there, but I decided to go one weekend. Found the nearest train station, which was in a village five kilometers away, went there and wandered around until I found a hotel. Next morning I walk around until I see street signs pointing in the direction of the next closest village to the cave, and I just start walking alongside the road, way up in the mountains. I had nothing with me besides my wallet and ID, and I really had no idea where I was going. I figured if I got close enough I'd be able to figure it out or ask someone. Hours later, after wandering around in the mountains, I end up in the right place, and spent the rest of the day exploring the cave. I had a guide for that part! The painting were about a mile underground in this cave system, and seeing such beautiful artwork painted by our ancestors that long ago by flashlight was one of the most transfixing and transformative experiences of my life. Then I walked back down out of the mountains to my hotel :)

(1971) Carried a cat w/kittens in my sleeping bag and left Fl via free drive-away car to find a commune to join in Massachusetts. Long summer, long story, didn't find a commune, ended by flying from NYC on red-eye with same cats in cardboard box wrapped as a present. Box made it all the way until airport limo driver handed it to me upon arrival, soggy box collapsed, mother cat escaped forever. That's a relatable tale; the unrelatable crazy stuff keeps me thankful and reminds me to be tolerant of the explorations of youth.

All these confessions made me think of something more interesting than messing around with a dead armadillo! When I was 13 I helped my father run a whiskey still! My father was a Canadian and did a lot of things in his youth worthy of this thread. By the time I came along he had moved to the States (a Canadian term) and settled down to a normal life. Every other summer or so we would journey to Canada to visit relatives and renew old friendships. On one of these when he was in his early sixties he and an old friend (fellow moonshiner) got to reminiscing over all the fun they had in the good old days and decided to run a batch off for old times sake. They brewed the mash in the basement of my sister's farmhouse and set up the still in an upstairs bedroom. What I remember most about is although we were 5 miles from the nearest village, 15 miles from the nearest town, and probably 100 miles or more from anything that could be called a city, every time a car would past down the gravel road in front of the house they would peek through the window and wonder out loud if it might be a revenuer. In their minds they had set the clock back 40 yrs and my sister, brother-in-law and I were enjoying it just as much as they were. As a side light, when I entered college I couldn't seem to get a good composition grade so I told this story and got an A. If you would like to read more about my father's experiences you can read my book, "Tug River Murder". It is currently available free as an ibook at Smashwords, Kobo iBooks, and Barnes & Noble. If you like it, give me a good review. If you don't---keep it to yourself!

Papa Jim

Jim, I downloaded your book. I've been looking for something to read, and this sounds like something I'd like. My father was raised in an area of SC famous for its moonshiners. In fact, most of the politicians were moonshiners. I used to have contacts up there where you could take a mason jar and a couple dollars and come home with some safe shine, if you knew the right people. Most of them were old men, so they're probably all dead by now, but there is still some shine made in SC, especially back in the swamps, although growing pot has been found to be much more lucrative.

Although a Canadian my father had no trouble fitting in in West Virginia. He could fiddle and knew how to make moonshine. Nuff said!

I was born in WV, all my ancestors are WV, but I was raised in Florida. My dad helped an uncle make moonshine and when he was grown he ran it around for him in his Army jeep. The last time I was up there I tried my best to get hold of some but I guess I'm considered a "foreigner" and can't be trusted. Most of the people up there in the "hollers" that would have made moonshine in the past now grow pot. Couldn't get any of that, either.

I'm a "mountaineer" also. Keystone, WV. Always a hardscrabble place to live. Probably even worse now that coal is out of favor. Like you I was raised in Florida---from age 6.