What was I thinking?

I break out in a cold sweat when I remember some of the dumb things we did during our rough-and-tumble boyhood days.
For example, when I was about 8 years old, my buddy Bubba Ponds & I were just goofing around on a lazy summer day -- typical rowdy boys trying to think up something fun to do before we ran out of summer vacation and had to return to the boredom of school days.

Bubba had a Wham-o Boomerang. You can't find them anymore. Wham-o stopped making them, and I think I know why (probably because of reports of incidents similar to the one I'm about to relate). The related photo is not me. It's a photo of a typical boy (probably sometime in the 1960s) with a Wham-o boomerang resting on his legs.

I came up with what I considered a really fun thing to do -- bomb the boomerang. We went to a baseball field near Bubba's house. I stationed him near home plate and my station was on the pitcher's mound. I brought along a collection of Dixie paper cups for making the bombs. To make a bomb, I would place a rock in the bottom of a cup and then place some sand (taken from the pitcher's mound) on top of the rock. I would then twist the top of the Dixie cup tightly.

When I had a collection of bombs made, I would give Bubba the signal to throw the boomerang. When the boomerang came within my range, I would start chunking bombs at it. It looked really cool when one of the bombs would hit the boomerang. The boomerang would wobble and fall to the ground, sort of like a wounded bird. And what was really cool was the dusty "poof" that occurred on impact when the dust bombs "exploded."

We were really having a blast, until we had a little mishap. Bubba threw the boomerang before I gave the signal. I was preoccupied on the pitcher's mound making a new batch of bombs and did not even know he had thrown the boomerang. I remember hearing Bubba holler: "Watch out!" Instinctively, I looked up at Bubba and the next instant -- WHAM !!! The boomerang smacked me hard, right in the head. I didn't cry, because it really did not hurt that much (guess there are some advantages to having a really hard head). The next thing I remember is seeing Bubba run up to me and asking if I was OK. Then, I distinctly remember seeing the sort of sick look on his face and how white his face looked when he put his hands to his mouth and said: "Oh, my God." "What's the matter?" I asked him. Then, I remember feeling something warm on my right side. I looked down and my right side and right leg were just covered with blood. Yep, my head was busted open and blood was just gushing out.

Fortunately, our house was pretty near the baseball field and my dad was there in no time, rushing me to the emergency room. It took nearly 20 stitches to close the gash. The doctor told dad that if the boomerang had hit just a little lower it would probably have struck my temple, meaning that I could have been severely injured or even killed.

As it turned out there was no concussion or any complications (although some may think that whack on the head could explain some of my bizarre behavior through the years).
Wish it could have happened a few months later. I could have missed about 2 weeks of school.

Anyway, if you ever come across a Wham-o boomerang (they are probably now collectors' items) you really ought to set up a boomerang bombing session just to see how cool it looks when the bomb hits the boomerang. Just be sure to do a better job of coordinating your signals.