Things You Broke As A Child (You wish now you hadn't)

[Gilbey]

As a child of 5 yrs. old back in 1969 when the old LP was in its heyday, my father had a top of the line automatic transcription turntable that was the Garrard Lab 80. Back then it was an esoteric turntable during its debut in 1964 when my father was among the first who got it. Didn't pay much attention to it when it first came because I was just born. When I turned 3, my Dad whould put me in a high chair just to let me observe the record playing and I was fascinated especially when the record was about to end and the automatic cycle would engage to lift the tonearm and return it gently to its arm rest. The more I observed, the more it ignited my curiousity.

Finally when I turned 5, I planned to play with it when my father wasn't around. I got me a stool and turned on the auto cycle while I spinned the platter as fast as I can. You can imagine the tonearm going back and forth through the rubber mat - lifting the arm - returning to its post - then back again through the cycle as fast as it could. My father caught me in the act and immediately pulled me out of the stool I was standing on. By that time it was too late... the old Garrard won't cycle up anymore as he tried a record on it. He didn't beat me at all, but I could just see that he was upset at the moment. Maybe he was guilty to have sparked my curiousity in the first place?? Oh well, he tried to have it fixed but alas, the technician committed suicide while it was there with him (he was drowning in financial debt). So it was returned to my dad with a missing headshell without the cartridge and needle because the technician tried to sell the part to just to get by before he killed himself. So without that part and an auto cycle that doesn't work, it was totally worthless to dad so that it ended up in the attic.

By the time I was a teenager, I took it apart just to see its mechanism again. I was impressed by the quality of that table. It was at that time I realized how I broke a fine machine I wish I hadn't. Oh well, life goes on as they say ... [huh]

 

[Miss 1929]

Not my story

but so appropriate...
I have a friend who was handed a hammer as a child, and told to smash an entire set of Fiesta Ware as it was so cheap it wasn't worth packing for the move.
She still feels guilty about it 50 years later!

 

[Atterbury Dodd]

Let me see...

When my Mom was growing up, in the late 60's or early 70's, she found an antique butter churn at a yard sale. It was Daisy style, a square glass jar with a metal top, paddles, gears, and a wooden handle. My Mom bought it for about ten dollars.

For years it sat on a high shelf in the kitchen--just looking nice. Then we started to buy cow milk, and used the cream from it to make butter, usually in our electric machine. Then one day the power went out and Mom decided to try the old hand churn. It worked, but it was slow. This gave us the idea of actually trying to use the thing, which we probably wouldn't have dreamed of before.

Wow! I became very good at using the old thing and it was actually FASTER! Faster than the electric machine--after you got the technique down. I used it for a few years without incident. During this time I saw others like it at antique stores for about $200. And up. Remember my Mom bought it for about ten dollars! I became more careful with it than I had been, but I wasn't about to stop using the cool thing! I wouldn't let anybody else wash it, though. But darn! It got so greasy after each making, it was hard to clean. Hot water and soap, that's the stuff! That got it very clean. Then one day when I was in a big hurry I got the wash water to hot. CRACK! The glass part cracked from top to bottom. I stood there for a second with a terrible look on my face. My head kind of flopped forward, and I hit my forehead with the palm of my hand (the thought of a churn for $10, now worth $200, and I JUST BROKE IT!). And I have been wishing and searching vainly for a replacement glass part ever since, but no luck.

 

[LizzieMaine]

Well, not me personally, but several members of my family took axes and crowbars and sledgehammers and completely demolished my great-uncle's house the day after he died, searching for the bootlegging fortune he was rumored to have hoarded there for many years. I was eight years old at the time, and tagged along to see what was happening -- and I can remember some really nice 20's era living room furniture being shredded and smashed to kindling in a desperate attempt to find the money.

My great aunt found the booty, by the way, after slashing open the mattress with a straight razor -- maybe $20,000 in worn bills. Even *I* could have told them to look there first.

 

[obiwan]

I was raised by my maternal Grandmother, one day I was looking for something (who knows what) in a closet, I grabbed the edge of a box on the shelf and proceeded to pull it off the shelf.

The box came crashing down, loaded with 78 rpm records that belonged to my Grandmother. Most of them were lost during the tumble.

I always felt bad about ruining her box of records and still think of it to this day.

 

[Warbaby]

I was one of those odd children who was very careful with things and never, ever broke anything - except for the occasional window which I simply couldn't resist popping with my slingshot.

I'm still very careful with things. And I still have a slingshot...

 

[pgoat]

the golden rule

 

[Cracker]

My grandfather's 1937 F-hole Martin acoustic guitar.

He let me take guitar lessons on it in the 70s, and one day I accidentally scratched the surface with the pick. It felt so good. It felt so right. Before I knew it, I'd scratched quite a bit of graffiti on it. I was 9 or 10 years old. It was the only time he ever got mad at me, and I felt about an inch tall. I still feel terrible about it. And now it's hanging on the wall outside our bedroom, and I see it every night. Still sounds good when I play it, though. I've told me wife I'd like to get it cleaned up (though they say the scratches can never be removed without ruining the great tone of the guitar). She thinks it's cute, but I'm still ashamed of my vandalism.

 

[CharlesB]

My innocence

 

[jayem]

My mom's Tammy doll when I was little. I accidentally ripped her head off.
My dad was born in 1954 and had tons of old toys that were my grandpa's when he was little (so, around 1922), whenever we went over to my grandparents house me and my brother played with them. there was this adorable little pull toy of a little dog that would poke its head in and out of a dog house as you pulled it, and I bashed that into a wall. It doesn't move anymore.

The worst one, which I still kick myself for...

My Nana (great grandmother) had a giant box full of old bisque Jumeau dolls. Must've been about five in there, with plenty of clothing. When she died, she left them to me because she knew how much I liked dolls and because I was the oldest great-grand daughter. I must've been about 9 or 10. When my dad brought home the box, I opened it up and screamed. The dolls were so freaky looking I told him to throw them out. Wisely, he didn't. But, he did store them in the basement. One year, we had a terrible flash flood and our basement got at least 3 feet of water. Everything was trashed, including the dolls. The price of a perfect Jumeau doll today with her original outfits and wig? About $2 to 3 grand. Multiply that by 5, plus various outfits and wigs...

 

[Mojito]

My great aunt found the booty, by the way, after slashing open the mattress with a straight razor -- maybe $20,000 in worn bills. Even *I* could have told them to look there first.

Wow - LizzieMaine, I was so sure this story was going to end with "and of course, there was no fortune stashed away"! I could cry for the 20s era stuff, but it's rather cool that there *was* an actual stash. I'd have gone mattress as well...followed by looking for a loose floorboard or tapping at walls. I'm not an original treasure stasher or hunter.

 

[Foofoogal]

The price of a perfect Jumeau doll today with her original outfits and wig? About $2 to 3 grand. Multiply that by 5, plus various outfits and wigs...

Jumeau. Yes, you definitely made a booboo on that one. Dolls used to be huge and Jumeau is the top of the line. I think some dolls are making a comeback though. I love dolls.

fftopic: As a collector and dealer of dolls I had picked up some at a show in the 1980s. When I started selling online I picked up a doll book at another show in 2002. The new book stated a doll I had was $75.00 tops so I decided to sell it at $60.00.
I was doing so because like you my 6 year old grandbaby would cry every time they saw the doll and said, "that babydoll scares me Nana."
So put it on my store and it was bought immediately. I decided to look on ebay. It turns out it was a Blythe doll and they go for about $3000.00. Mine was in an orange original polka dot bikini. I never list just about anything without doing my homework now. I learned my lesson on that one. Kudos to the person that bought it.
Her eyes turn 4 different colors when you pull the string. Now you tell me what child this would not scare. I do as an adult see the charm though.
http://www.abc.net.au/tv/collectors/txt/s1984186.htm

 

[Flivver]

As an only child, I was always careful with my toys and still have most of them...except for my pedal car. It was a bright yellow "sad face" dump truck that said "fluid drive" on the side. I got it for Christmas 1954 when I was 3 years old. I kept it in good condition and it sat unused in the garage after I out-grew it.

But when I was about 13, a friend and I got the idea to have a demolition derby with our pedal cars. But, they were made of heavy gauge steel and didn't "smash" well. So we took my dad's sledge hammer to them! Then we took them to the dump.

My mom was angry about this and told me I'd be sorry one day. She was right...today I wish I still had that pedal car.

The exact model I had is now reproduced. And an original is worth a tidy sum...but mine is gone due to teenage stupidity.

 

[pgoat]

My grandfather's 1937 F-hole Martin acoustic guitar.

He let me take guitar lessons on it in the 70s, and one day I accidentally scratched the surface with the pick. It felt so good. It felt so right. Before I knew it, I'd scratched quite a bit of graffiti on it. I was 9 or 10 years old. It was the only time he ever got mad at me, and I felt about an inch tall. I still feel terrible about it. And now it's hanging on the wall outside our bedroom, and I see it every night. Still sounds good when I play it, though. I've told me wife I'd like to get it cleaned up (though they say the scratches can never be removed without ruining the great tone of the guitar). She thinks it's cute, but I'm still ashamed of my vandalism.

I got shivers just reading this....

Oh well, at least you can still play it - it'd have been worse if you'd sat on it or done an "el kabong".

 

[Twitch]

I wish I hadn't broken the Stream of Consciousness thread cause no one has fixed it and some of us actually enjoy it. It shows February as the current date! This is a test to see if anybody ias out there......hellooooooooooo

 

[pgoat]

things is still loopy....lotsa posts floating out in cyberspace somewhere.....

 

[Cherry_Bombb]

I didn't so much break it as I did ruin it...

My mom and her father were super close while she was growing up, but money was tight and there was no room for any of life's extras. When she graduated from high school in '78, he took her shopping for an outfit. Together they picked out a gorgeous yellow cotton, swiss dotted shirt w/ a peter pan collar, empire waist, button front, and short/ gathered cap sleeves. She held onto this shirt for me to have when I got to high school.

I've never been an organized person. And I had a bad habbit of forgetting where things were and losing track of them.

I also love mixing my own nail polish colors.... So on a paper pallet, I created my own nail polish color, left it there and at some point mom's shirt ended up on top of the puddle. No amount of paint thinner/ polish remover could get the stain out and finally I ended up having to confess to mom what I had done to her shirt.

Man, looking back on it years later, I still feel like crud about it. It's not so much it's historical value as it is the personal worth.

 

[Jay]

Thanks for making me dig up repressed memories... When I was little I smashed a rotary phone... With a hammer... My Dad rescued it from his job at Campbell Soup when they switched to modern touchtone phones. I still feel bad about that, 14 years later. I also broke an old pocket watch, but at least it was a piece of junk when I got it.

He didn't let me live down the phone thing for a LONG time. I should buy him one as a replacement, now that I think about it. Maybe it'll make a nice Fathers Day gift.

On the other hand, I'm now known in the (whole) family as the one who takes care of things. Whodda figured...

 

[Twitch]

Jay- I still feel like smashing my phone today with all the yahoos, geeks, wazoos and jamokes calling up

 

[freebird]

Didn't break it, but did lose track of it, I *think* it got lost when we moved in 75. Evel Knievel was my hero back in the day and I had the original stunt cycle and although not mint, it was in good condition. Also still have the EK soda straw, the rear wheel of the motorcycle turns as you drink through the straw.