Remember: Just the facts on this blog.

Now that Kelly has left a comment, it's time for the next episode of our existence. I said I would write about the vanishing of my childhood neighborhood, so here it goes. There are actually two versions for this incredible legend, and it's up to you to decide which one you believe more.

#1: The lonely cry of the excavator

My parents' house, which my grandfather built at the ripe age of 21 before going to war, and adjacent factory, which we are renting out ever since he retired, is surrounded by fields on all sides. We have no direct neighbors, except for a few houses up the road, on the other side. The town really starts a little bit down the road. Anyway, one side of the road that one of my friends lived on was only developed on one side, there were no houses on the other, just a big field. Usually there were animals on that field and an electric fence around it (ouch), but later on we played frisbee on there too. My friend and I loved frisbee by the way, and spent hours throwing that thing back and forth. Unfortunately it would always land in the neighbor's garden at his place. So the field was way better. There were crops on the field too sometimes, and one year they found a huge stone, the findling. It was awesome. They placed it right on the edge of the field and we would climb on it and play spaceship and stuff like that. It's hard to say how big it really was, but it had plenty of room for two kids playing on its slope. It was hella cool. And slowly the empty field vanished. It started with just one house right across from my friend's, and ended with nothing but houses and a new road right through the old field. You would never guess it if you saw it now. The findling was moved up to the museum, but it was damaged in the process and not placed like it had been by the field. So house after house was built, and a huge wall of dirt accumulated, so that we could no longer see what was going on in the ex-field. Not that it matters, but the dirt gives some sonic relief from the trucks that go by for the new residents. Sissies! So that was basically it, one of my childhood playgrounds, even though not a very popular one, was replaced by houses. It was not a huge loss of natural habitat for animals or anything, and I'm not sad about it. It's just weird how the city keeps growing and growing. Where will it end?

#2: Electric boot

One year my brother and I played in the field right by our yard. It was rainy and muddy. At one point my brother got stuck in the mud with his rain boot, and I ran inside to get my parents. It ended up with my brother being rescued, but there was no hope for the boot. Heck, I don't know what happened to it, I'm sure my Dad dug it out, but I have no memory of that. And so I have to assume that the boot was consumed by the field. And it never came up again. Shortly thereafter a huge stone was found in the field that vanished, the findling. Shortly means either an unknown number of years and months or before the boot vanished, but I'm pretty sure the findling came later. Long time later, it's a field after all, not a lightning bolt. So the boot sinks in, and the findling comes up. Give and take. The findling was hella cool by the way. But you already knew that. Wait a second, how did you know? Maybe this thing isn't over yet. Anyway, I also had this toy rocket, and one of my brother's friends was looking at it and said, oh, a nuclear missile. Little me was scared. Nuclear? In my hands? I'M GONNA DIE! Cause I knew nuclear was bad and makes you die. Duh. So I put it somewhere in our attic, and never saw it again. A week later I woke from my sleep, and decided to go out on the balcony, by our bathroom. Outside was a person in a dark hodded thingy. Like Obi-Wan and Anakin and everybody else is sporting in the latest Star Wars movie (so that's where they got that from). Did you see that? Wasn't too bad. The original ones don't even compare though. In my opinion at least. Too much CGI. Anyway, he was looking right at me and gesturing with his hands. Not trying to communicate, just doing some weird ole stuff. He then walked back and forth across the field, twice, and walked down the road. Only that he never came out from behind the trees that line the sidewalk by our house. He may have also stolen my He-Man. But I digress. One day I was playing on the findling, spaceship of course, as everything else is for lamos, and suddenly the field began to move and the electric fence started giving of bolts of lightning into the field. First it moved very gently like a lake, but it grew stronger and stronger. Alright, this is getting out of control. I don't think I should reveal all, as it doesn't seem to be over yet. All you need to know is that the whole thing further involved a tiger-striped bunny rabbit, Jimmy Page's left hand index finger hangnail, a bottle of orange juice, 3 bottle rockets with ladybug pilots, a lock of Angelina Jolie's hair and that one chick from TV as a child who had travelled in time.

Two stories, one incident, and many unresolved mysteries. I will do better next time.