SfanGoch

"Yeah" is unacceptable. Please refrain from further use of this word.

You must've had places that all the kids would go to besides a park to have fun and cause trouble. Lawnguylant ain't that much more different than the city when it comes to that kind of stuff.

HAH, good one Doug. I'll tell you, one grew up fast in my neighborhood back in the '50s - early '90s. There were a number of gangs spanning that time period and you had to pay attention to your surroundings. You could count on gang wars as soon as summer started. We had major gang-fueled riots in the summers of '69 and '72 which made the headlines around the country. During the one in June '72, a white demarcation line was painted just south of Green Street on the main drag, Manhattan Avenue, which ran from the second story of a building on the north side of the street to the second floor of the one on the opposite side. Anyone from the opposing side who was caught on the wrong side was dead meat. Heck, they were tossing refrigerators of the roofs of five story apartment buildings. This took place from june 30 to July 2, when NYPD brought in ESU and cops in full riot gear. Ah, those were the days........

Thanks, Tom. I think of those says whenever I'm walking around the neighborhood. Kids just don't play outside anymore. No two sewer touch football, no stickball or punchball, no kick the can,playing skelzies, crack the top, Ace-King-Queen, boxball....nothing. They hole up in their houses and play video games or waste time texting each other and behaving like little effing sneaks. Playing outside was how we developed social skills and learned how to interact with others. Kids today are treated like they're human veal by their helicopter parents. They can't do anything that could cause even the slightest bruise or injury. Pretty sad not letting kids be kids.

If you don't get what it's about, I ain't gonna try to explain. Being street rats, this is how kids played in the city and my recollections of the old neighborhood.

Every neighborhood in The Garden Spot Of The Universe had it special places kids used for fun and getting into trouble. Our place on Dupont Street was a magical and legendary portal into mindless adventure, known as "The LOT". When we got older, it was where we'd hang out and drink beers or Wild Turkey. But, in our younger days, it was where we'd do dumb stuff like setting up targets on the ancient oak which was once located next to the back fence and have archery competitions or our own Olympic games, including bare knuckle boxing and tackle football without equipment. We were a tough bunch back then and didn't worry about a little bit of bruisin'. What didn't kill you made you a better person. "The LOT" was also our gateway into every backyard on Dupont and Eagle Streets, from Franklin Street to the fence adjoining P.S. 31's schoolyard, two doors down from my old house at 76. We would play team tag, Army and Hot Peas 'n Butter throughout the block without having to worry about dodging cars driving down the street. Having a play area as big as this was great. It beat going to the park up the block because there weren't any grouchy adults screaming, "Hey, you punks! Go find someplace else to make a racket!" That's where "The LOT" came in. We were the masters of our universe and nobody could tell us otherwise or stop us from having fun. None of the people whose yards we played in ever complained or put a crimp in our funtime. None, that is, except for one man. This embodiment of pure, diabolical evil was known to all as "BEAST". "BEAST" was a fat, balding 35+ year old slob who still lived with his mother on the second floor of 85 Eagle Street. His kitchen window gave him the perfect vantage point from where he could observe the goings-on in "The LOT" and most of the backyards. Whenever we went to play in "The LOT", "BEAST"'s corpulent presence would completely fill the kitchen window as he surveilled our activities. See, "BEAST" wasn't the average fat, balding slob who always tried to put a damper on things. No siree. He was an ingenious fat, balding slob. He ran barbed wire through the shrubbery near the fence separating his yard from the one next door. We got wise to him and kept an old area rug hidden in "The LOT" which we would drape over the fence. He also installed barbed tanglewire disguised as tomato plants in his yard. Being that we all watched WWII movies on TV, we were prepared for this contingency. We went into his yard at night and, using wire snips, cleared the obstacles and left him a FU note. But, above all, he was also a sniper level shot. Whenever we would go through the yards, "BEAST" would shoot at us with his pump action BB rifle. He didn't just shoot us while we were in the yards. He would target us inside "The LOT", too. Waldo Gromek, "The Hero For All Ages" from the "Battle of the Waldos" story, once got popped twice in the schozz. His ability to lead and adjust his fire and hit moving targets was nothing short of amazing. We all were impressed with his skill, to say the least. "BEAST"'s reign of terror lasted about four years. He finally threw in the towel after we tossed an M80 at his window and blew it out of its frame. Fat Boy never called the cops because he knew we'd rat him out for shooting at us.

Stay tuned for the action-packed tale about "The Lot".

It was more like a poor man's version of "West Side Story" without the soundtrack and choreography. And the good looking chicks.

Beers are on me. Tom's covering the tab.

Sure we would. Except, expressing it here guarantees one will get frogmarched off the forum. True. But, being tagged as a money hungry ladro out to destroy "the hobby" by asking, and that is the key word, what some feel are outrageous sums for his stuff ain't exactly conducive to creating a spirit of amity.

The info about his health should make people think twice about spewing vitriol directed at him or anyone else.

Nice, man.

My son, owner of two Schwinn Krates, the original muscle bike. This is him with one of his Grey Ghosts. I had a '68 Apple Krate 5-Speed and a '71 Pea Picker 5-Speed when I was a kid.

I'm not going to begrudge someone for parting out a kit, no matter how relatively rare it might be. What's the alternative, buy a complete kit for a large pile of dough to get the parts you need for the one you already have? If you're going to do that, you'll be back at Square 1 because you'll still end up with a kit missing those same parts. Be glad that there are model car chop shops on ebay so you won't be forced to go that route. Ain't no more Modelhaus and VCG Resins doesn't offer replacement parts anymore, either.

It's no different than going to an auto salvage yard to get a part for a long discontinued car you happen to own. If the guy doesn't have the part, he'll do a search with other yards. If the part is available, and being that it's been long out of production, it's probably gonna cost you a whole lot more than you assumed. Depending on how badly you need that part, it's up to you if you want to buy it, or not.

I received an order last week; so, I guess the answer is yes. He's prompt in replying to emails. More than likely, he's been busy or took a break. Try emailing Steve again.

During September 1971, a legendary war finally erupted between the forces of the territory covering Ash to Freeman Streets and those from the enemy territories of Green/Huron Streets. Both factions were busy fabricating tile guns and collecting bats, chains and other implements of street warfare to arm the troops. Finally, the day and time of battle arrived. It was a cool autumn Friday, the 24th. The time - 4 P.M. The place - the middle of Dupont Street, in front of P.S. 31. Almost one hundred well-armed and rowdy belligerents were ready to fight to the death in a final, decisive and titanic struggle of historic proportions to ultimately determine the control of northern Greenpoint, known far and wide as Zod. The leaders of the opposing armies decided that each group would choose one warrior to represent its respective side and they would duke it out. The combatants were chosen. Fittingly, this would be forever remembered as "The Battle of the Waldos". Our side, the Ash/Freemans, were represented by Waldo Gromek who, even at age 13, bore a more than passing resemblance to actor/comedian Carl "Gruber" Valentine. The Green/Hurons were represented by Waldo Pisarczyk, a lumbering brute who was a dead ringer for the third guy from the left on an evolutionary chart. It was a violent exhibition of face-to-fist combat of the most primitive and brutal kind. After five minutes of non-stop knuckle eating and beak busting, it was over. Only one remained standing. That champion was Waldo Gromek, forever to be remembered in neighborhood lore as The Hero For All Ages. The defeated and thoroughly demoralized Green/Hurons scraped what was left of Waldo Pisarczyk off the asphalt and dejectedly trudged off the block amid jeers, raspberries and the occasional thrown soda bottle knowing that, from that day forward, they would be mere vassals of the all-powerful Zod Empire. Waldo Gromek was cheered and hailed for the glorious victory he brought to our neighborhood. All of which lasted about a minute. We all had to split and go home for dinner.

Well, that describes anyone selling, or putting up for auction, on ebay and elsewhere. Nobody does out of sheer love of a hobby or interest. They're out to make a buck and there's nothing wrong with that. It's the name of the game.

Just like working on a real one.

Cool and creative, Pete. At Metrotech Commons in Downtown Brooklyn:

Posting comments via carrier pigeon might be a feasible alternative.

Getting the annoying "404 Error" message when I attempt to post.

I'm experiencing the same problem now, Dave. Let's see if this gets posted.

OT, I visited the Hornby FB page yesterday and asked why they haven't reissued/re-released this kit. As of a few minutes ago, my post was deleted.

It's the other way around.