Reckless Robin Rides Again...Eh, Not So Much

As a young man, I was always a guy willing to take a chance.  You know, to leap out there while my contemporaries hung back and denied any knowledge of me or my stupid schemes.  Course, the older I get, the less likely (or capable) I am to leap anywhere.  Besides, I’m really getting too old (and am far too handsome…and humble) to go to jail for doing something stupid.  Ah, but back then I was something of a reckless daredevil (wannabe).

Let’s see, there was the time that Captain Time (aka, me) planned to jump the North Canadian River (mostly a dry riverbed at the time) on a bicycle.  My friend, John Bumpass, hijacked his trigonometry class to figure out what it would take for me to make the jump and live to tell the tale.  I seem to recall that the riverbed’s width was around 50 feet with an assortment of rocks, rolled strands of rusty barbwire, and broken beer bottles in the sand bottom.  Evel Knievel never made a jump so daring…14 Greyhound buses?...that’s nothing!  The trig class’ calculation was that I would have to hit the top of the ramp at a speed no one could possibly achieve on a bicycle.  The plan was doomed to fail, but that didn’t stop me.  I even had teachers coming up to me in between classes, saying they had heard what I was planning to do and begging me not to do it.  That, of course, just egged me on.  In the end, I didn’t do it.  April rolled into summer and Dad enslaved me to the farm for wheat harvest and the plowing that followed.  Probably just as well…they would still be finding parts of me in the riverbed and selling them on eBay as remains of the “Lost Ancestor” found in Woodward County, OK.

But, wait, there’s more.

So it was, in the mid-70’s that streaking became all the rage.  All the college kids were doing it.  Being the kind of person who was always finding ways to bring the latest trends to sleepy Woodward (I was probably the only teenager in Western Oklahoma to own a New York Dolls album – the true origins of Punk), I decided to give streaking a try. 

One night as my friends – Doug, Mick and I – were dragging Main.  For those of you born after, well, I have no idea…dragging Main was the chief source of entertainment for Woodward teenagers back in the day.  You started at Sonic and moved east down Main Street made a circle through Crystal Beach and then back to Sonic…all night long sometimes.  I think after gas prices began to shoot up in the ‘80’s people stopped dragging Main. 

But, I digress…

So, I had opened my mouth that I was going to streak down Main Street.  Doug, of course, wasn’t going to let that go and kept egging me on.  Fortunately, for the good people of Cosmic City, some sense of modesty and decency (not sure I’ve ever actually used those two words when talking about myself) prevailed and I chickened out.  Doug wasn’t going to let me hear the end of it though and kept up with the goading.  Mick was in the backseat and just laughing about it all. Up and down Main we rolled along, with Doug constantly telling me to let him know if I wanted him to pull over so I could strip and run.  Finally, I think he suggested going out of the city limits on a dirt road and I could just try it out.  Next thing I knew, we were on Cheyenne Drive, just off of 28th Street, which at the time was still a dirt road though it was still in city limits.  He pulled the car over to the side of the road, I stripped and got out.  Off I began running toward the west.  Doug was staying behind me with lights on bright. 

Honestly, it was kind of a liberating experience…if you’ve never run naked, I would recommend at least trying it (oh, come on, no one is watching).  I was laughing so hard I could barely run, but run I did…until a car came racing up behind Doug.  I jumped back into the car and away we went.

The very next day, my mother let me know that she knew I had done it.  I caught a huge load of guff about it, but it soon died out.  Soon thereafter she bought me a pillow with a graphic of a naked guy running and the words “Keep on Streaking” across the top.  She also included in my “prize” package a 45rpm of Ray Stevens’ “The Streak”.  Not long after that, my Aunt Dee Ann gave me a T-shirt emblazoned with “If it feels good, do it.”  Words to live by, me thinks.  I don’t know if they were encouraging me or trying to embarrass me in my family’s own special way.  Thankfully, it was a soft landing. 

In case you’re wondering why I’m taking a nostalgic trip down days past, all of this came back to mind as I reading about two knuckleheads who could be my illegitimate offspring (always wondered about that).  WKYT television station in Pike County, Kentucky (I swear, I’ve never been there) ran a story about the surrender on warrants and subsequent arrest of both for streaking.  They’re being held without bond.  For streaking?  Really?

Seems our two daredevils donned masks while one ran naked through a Wal-Mart screaming that he was “on fire” and “burning up.”  The other was following to film the whole thing for social media.  When Johnny the Human Torch got to the back of the store, he reached into the dairy case and poured two gallons of milk all over himself (duh…to put the flames out…sheesh, keep up!).  

If you follow the link above, you can see the video.  During their arraignment, both stressed that it was a prank and had been previously planned.  Guess the judge wasn’t impressed.  Thus, he ordered them held without bond.  Who knows, maybe da judge’s elderly Aunt Fanny was shopping in Wal-Mart at the time (it was half-off previously frozen chicken parts Tuesday) and the sight of Johnny the Human Torch's nakedity gave her the vapors.

So if there is anyone from the ACLU reading this, please send someone to the Pike County jail and let’s free these idiots.

Ummm…I gotta go.  There are people at the door.  I let my daughter read this after I finished it.  Apparently, she’s trying to have me committed.