If two words ever made my skin crawl, head twitch and immediately begin a seizure, this title did just that. The notorious Pink Box was a 4 ft.X 4 ft. X 4t. plywood box with a lid. It was painted pink by our beloved matriarch, which- BTW- everything in the house was purple with pink accents. But to add to the noxious state of this, the box held all, yes, ALL, of our sports equipment. Helmets, masks, cleats, gloves, skates, chest protectors...... well, this list goes on, but suffice it to say that as little kids, we had to "dumpster dive" to get what we needed. HOWEVER, the Pink box had an altogether second, and more disturbing, life. If you have been following this blog to any extent, you read the Rubber Band episode- if not, take a moment....... Bear in mind, this was the 1950's, no, not Summer of Love and Peace, we had barely been out of WWII. A
ll of the movies in this era were around what went bad for our guys by those guys. Hence, the acorn fights, rubber band fights and these were all based on what we saw in the movies , heard from our uncles ( I will leave them out of this to protect the innocent )and read in the magazines. The Pink Box became the "sweatbox", "solitary" and all that could be bad to get you to in a 4x4 space. I arrived here often as the deposed, defeated and decimated. .......Thank god, you couldn't get bamboo slivers at Gyper Jack's! ......Thrown in, but first, ceremoniously removing my glasses -lest mom and dad get pissed if they came home to find they were broken... and slammed shut. The darkness coupled with the sensual feeling of cleats in your ribs and catcher's mask grill in your back were well remembered happy childhood experiences.
Then, as a younger person, those who tended the "cell" were always cheerfully reminding me not to use my air too fast and I couldn't breath well under such circumstances. Very thoughtful of them to think of me! Hey, where are my glasses? silence...Seeing no light, who was I to question? Makes the imagination and claustrophobic in anyone kick into gear. Ah, great times! .............Better yet, these happy times occurred when mom and dad were out, so you would think I would be a bit more prepared, like oxygen tanks, flashlight and comic books. Heck, they wouldn't have hurt any more than the rest of the stuff. .... Looking at the photos on the right, would my complaining have sunk in? NEVER.. not against those two angels.......Looking back at those pristine moments of silence and self reflection were times that most hippies in the 60's were looking for, finding themselves. What is troubling, however, is what I found...... mask, helmet, chest protector, CLEATS AND DAMN, MAYBE THEY ARE RIGHT! I AM RUNNING OUT OF AIR!!!!!
ll of the movies in this era were around what went bad for our guys by those guys. Hence, the acorn fights, rubber band fights and these were all based on what we saw in the movies , heard from our uncles ( I will leave them out of this to protect the innocent )and read in the magazines. The Pink Box became the "sweatbox", "solitary" and all that could be bad to get you to in a 4x4 space. I arrived here often as the deposed, defeated and decimated. .......Thank god, you couldn't get bamboo slivers at Gyper Jack's! ......Thrown in, but first, ceremoniously removing my glasses -lest mom and dad get pissed if they came home to find they were broken... and slammed shut. The darkness coupled with the sensual feeling of cleats in your ribs and catcher's mask grill in your back were well remembered happy childhood experiences.
Then, as a younger person, those who tended the "cell" were always cheerfully reminding me not to use my air too fast and I couldn't breath well under such circumstances. Very thoughtful of them to think of me! Hey, where are my glasses? silence...Seeing no light, who was I to question? Makes the imagination and claustrophobic in anyone kick into gear. Ah, great times! .............Better yet, these happy times occurred when mom and dad were out, so you would think I would be a bit more prepared, like oxygen tanks, flashlight and comic books. Heck, they wouldn't have hurt any more than the rest of the stuff. .... Looking at the photos on the right, would my complaining have sunk in? NEVER.. not against those two angels.......Looking back at those pristine moments of silence and self reflection were times that most hippies in the 60's were looking for, finding themselves. What is troubling, however, is what I found...... mask, helmet, chest protector, CLEATS AND DAMN, MAYBE THEY ARE RIGHT! I AM RUNNING OUT OF AIR!!!!!
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