Bombs?

I learn from Rob that all kids are alike. I bet that if Rob and I sat down to compare notes, his childhood in Georgia and my childhood in Louisiana were very similar.

Rob had one advantage over me, though, as he shows in this post. He could buy black powder. The kids in my neighborhood didn't know you could buy that stuff, so we had to make it. The charcoal was easy to find. A quick trip to an encylopedia gave us the other ingredients. A freindly pharmacist sold us what we needed after we convinced him we were not trying to hurt anyone, we just wanted to make some small bombs.

Pharmacist: "What do you kids want with that stuff?"

Us: "We're trying to make black powder."

Pharmacist: "Okay, just don't blow yourself up."

Can you imagine having that conversation today? I bet you wouldn't make it out of the store before the FBI and DEA and DHS and all manner of acronymn agencies swooped down to arrest the whole bunch of us.

This nation is turning into a bunch of sissies.