Bad Boys:

A few weeks ago I had lunch with my brother Hank and sister Regina. We were all in our eighties at this time. During our visit Hank asked me, Do you remember when we were on a garage roof and threw a few stones at the horses?" I laughed and said, "Sure do, kids can't do that today."

What happened that day; It was noon and Hank and I were walking along Meade St. in Chicago. We saw the garbage men at the corner. They were sitting on the lawn having lunch. Their garbage wagon was parked on the street, and the two horses had their oat bags attached and they were quietly eating oats.

We found a few small rocks, put them in our pockets and climbed up on a garage near the horses. When the men were finished eating they sat back and it looked as if they had their eyes closed. We threw the stones, which hit the horses on the rump, and the horses began to trot away with the men chasing them. At the same time Hank and I were off the roof and running in the other direction.

After a short distance we slowed to a walk and could see the men, holding the horses, with fists held high, yelling and cursing at us. We just trotted away. Tsk, tsk. Boys will be boys.