# Marbles



## zeeprogrammer (Jun 13, 2010)

Completely off topic but I was reading the forum tonight and started thinking about marbles. We needn't go into why.

This isn't about who still has them, who's lost them, who never had them, or who needs some...

What I remember is shooting for marbles...games like '5 pot poison'...I had 3 shoe boxes of winnings. Mom threw them out when we moved back stateside.

I'm struggling to remember...maybe this will tickle some memories from you all...

Cat's Eye
Steely
Spaghettis
Shooters
BumbleBees
Quarters
Pints
Clearie
Half Pint
Alley
Aggie

I remember the idiot kid who tried to play with a Steely the size of ping pong ball. Couldn't shoot more than a few inches unless he fudged (I hated fudgies). You learned early on not to shoot glass against a large Steely. Your shooter would shatter.

And never put your favorite shooter at risk.

Darn my Mom. But I love her.


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## Foozer (Jun 13, 2010)

And so it begins

Next up is the Misses dabbing the cloth to the corners of your mouth saying "Good Boy"



Robert


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## Troutsqueezer (Jun 13, 2010)

When I was a kid, Zee, marbles were the number one form of entertainment and we all carried a shooter, some puries, cateyes and aggies along with a piece of string in our pockets wherever we went.

We used to live on a steep hill next to ocean in San Francisco. Whenever an older kid would get tired of playing and collecting marbles he would do a "scramble". Notice was sent out to all the neighborhood kids that at a certain time, this kid would be at the top of the hill and he would dump all his marbles out of a box at once and all anyone who wanted some would scramble to catch them as they rolled down the hill. 

Nowadays, like many things, you can spend big bucks on marbles. I bought some last year for one of my rolling ball sculptures and they weren't nearly as cheap as they used to be.

-Trout


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## Deanofid (Jun 13, 2010)

This brings back good memories, Zee. 
In the grade schools, when I was a kid, most all boys had marbles, and at least one piece of baseball
equipment, whether a ball, bat, or glove, and some had all three. During short recesses, we played marbles, and on longer ones, (lunch hour, ect.) we played baseball.

I don't remember how we all got marbles. Sometimes, a bunch of boys would get together and pool their ice cream money to buy a large bag, then divvy them up, but usually, we just came across them. Adults would often give them to us, having kept them from their own childhood, I suppose. 

Most of us had "kid" jobs. Paper route, egg route, lawn mowing, etc. That's how a kid could get a new baseball glove. Marbles just seemed to show up most of the time, though. 

I recall a number of your marble names, but not all of them. I probably never knew them all. 
At one time, there were an abundance of 'clearies' at school. They weren't very good though, and we never knew why, back then. They were about the diameter of a quarter, and the color of Coca Cola bottles. Clear, and kind of bluish-green. Our school was near the railroad tracks, and we would find these things often. They all seemed to have flaws in them, like a small crease or divot here and there.
After I grew up and became an employee of the RR, I discovered why those "clearies" weren't very good. They were how glass companies shipped bulk glass. As small spheres! Apparently, they got out of the hopper cars now and then, and ended up along the tracks. 

I don't know what became of my marbles, literally, or figuratively. Probably gave them to some kid.
I had fun being a boy. Things were good.

Dean


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## bearcar1 (Jun 13, 2010)

Yeah, I remember shooting marbles, as a small lad growing up as well. There was a section of asphalt of the school yard missing in one corner, up next to the building, and a few of us had been playing toy soldiers in that spot. When we grew tired of that one year we made that area into a marbles pit. We would carefully use a string and a stick to draw out the ring after which we used powdered chalk to enhance the marking. One time a game came down to me and Bob Crafton, who had been the reigning champ for quite some time. We were both having a tremendous day shooting and the bell rang to announce that lunch recess was over. Not me and old Bob, we went right on playing and twenty minutes later, I was the champ. I collected all of his marbles from the ring and his pockets, and he had some handsome ones at that, and ran inside. Needless to say, I was ushered to the principal's office anon and proceeded to get lectured. 

Now, fast forward to just a few short years ago. I had wondered, off and on over the years, about all of those wonderful treasures that I had experienced in my childhood, those marbles, my army men, and my rather extensive collection of bubble gum playing cards and was resigned to the fact that they had either been trashed or given the the local church as a donation for other children and I would never again see any of them.

Not so fast there Andy. In preparation to relocate my Dad, my sister and I were in the midst of breaking down housekeeping and cleaning out the house I was raised in and on the top shelf, way in the back of Dad's bedroom closet, what do you suppose to my delight I found? A quart sized Mason jar full of all of those very marbles I had prized as a young lad and I was immediately transported back to the schoolyard and Bob Crafton. I proceeded to cull the lot of about a dozen or so of the finest specimens and stashed them away for safe keeping. 

Now this story isn't over yet. The afternoon we were in the lawyer's office working on the real estate papers, we were all admiring his antiques and collectables that he had on display in and around his office (it was in an restored historical hotel converted to residence/office) and he made mention that he would really like to find some old marbles. DING! DING! DING! Step right up! Do I have a deal for you! I related the story of Bob Crafton to him and that I had found all of my winnings just recently and he said he would enjoy having a look at them. On our return visit to him for final signatures I took the now much emptier jar along and showed the marbles to the young man. He inquired if I would sell them to him but I replied that I did not have any idea of a price and he, without blinking an eye offered $500. I was stunned but kiddingly said "How about $600" to which he said SOLD! 

Now I don't know if I had The Queens jewels in that jar that day or not, all I know is that I had the better ones and all of old Bob Craftons jewels safely stored away and still have no remorse or uncertainties regarding the transaction that day in August but I sure as Hell would like to find my two rookie Roger Marris cards. ;D :bow:

BC1
Jim


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## zeeprogrammer (Jun 13, 2010)

This is just too neat...



			
				Foozer  said:
			
		

> Next up is the Misses dabbing the cloth to the corners of your mouth saying "Good



Okay by me. Much better than finding myself in some home with some guy in a white labcoat with a nametag of 'Robert'. ;D

Trout...I have no idea where my first marble came from...but I do remember it was up to me to get any more.

I hated pee-wees. They just bounced off the target. Pweeng!

Dean. Neat story. I seem to recall that some marbles were, in reality, for other purposes. Just like steelies. I remember my disappointment that steelies were nothing more than ball bearings...a 'useful thing'. Marbles aren't supposed to be 'useful'. Heck..I remember finding out what BB stood for.

Jim. Cool story. Really cool. If we think about it...there's only a few names from our childhood that we remember.

I remember Tony Casorso. I wish I could find him. We stunk out an entire apartment building with a chemistry set. (That's right...sulfur and wax...rotten eggs...everyone came out wondering what was going on.). And then there was Michael Goldman. Broke both forearms on a slide. A week after getting the casts off..he did it again. He had appendicitis that year too. Hm. Maybe I dont' want to find these guys.


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## Foozer (Jun 13, 2010)

zeeprogrammer  said:
			
		

> This is just too neat...
> 
> 
> Broke both forearms on a slide. A week after getting the casts off..he did it again.



Cant top that but close, As a kid did the compound leg break, week after getting that cast off went and broke my arm. Not a good year for me. Lots of hills in San Francisco, could really get up to speed on a bike, them sudden stops however . . .

Robert


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## DICKEYBIRD (Jun 15, 2010)

Yup, this thread brought back a flood of memories. We didn't need TV, video games, etc. to keep us happy during the summer.

I pinched a big ol' magnifying glass from my Dad's workbench and us kids spent hours & hours burning ants & bugs with the focused rays of the sun. We'd just seen "War of the Worlds" and made the death ray sound from the movie as we incinerated them by the score.

We collected soda bottles and cashed them in until we had enough to go down to the 5 & 10 to get AJ Hornet rubber powered balsa airplanes. We started out just flying them normally; mass launch with last man down being the winner. The crash damage finally got bad enough that the wing tips had to be clipped and then they were speed planes. Once all the flying surface were gone, we wound them up and flew the bare sticks straight up and tried to catch them on the way down. When the motor stick was no longer usable, we'd use the tired rubber strand to pop poor, unsuspecting flies off the watermelon juice on the front porch. One moment they were happily slurping up the sweet juice, the next nanosecond, SPLAT, they woke up in fly heaven or wherever they end up. We wasted NOTHING in those days.

We built sand & gravel dams in the gutter so when a rainstorm came up we had ourselves a small lake to float our make believe batteships carved from scrap lumber. When we got tired of that, we'd get on our bikes and take turns speeding through the water to get a cooling splash.

Speaking of bikes, how many of you fantasized riding a growling Harley or Indian with playing card & clothespins on your bike? Balloons & clothespins were the best though. We'd ride up the top of the hill and pedal like heck back down at a zillion mph until a ballon would pop and we'd scream "Dangit, my engine blew!"

We pinched shovels from the shed and spent hours down at an overgrown field digging foxholes and having ferocious dirt clod fights. The field across the street was our baseball field but most of the time we just played flies & grounders cuz' there weren't enough guys for teams.

Then there was mumbley-peg (sp?) marbles, hide & seek, collecting bee stingers on the back of your belt,....the list goes on & on!


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## zeeprogrammer (Jun 15, 2010)

Ah that was great.
Yeah...rubber powered balsa airplanes and dams and playing cards in the bike.

I grew up in an area where the seasons dictated the fight...
snowballs in the winter of course...
chestnut and acorns when they dropped...
mud clods in the spring...
the occasional rock...but that was frowned upon...
all right in front of the school where the teachers would watch out the window...but we were 'just off school grounds'

My worst toy...a top. I wanted one for ages...finally got a bit of money and hiked two miles to the store. Unwrapped it as soon as I left the store...
I was bored within 5 minutes. :big:


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## BAH101 (Jun 15, 2010)

I lost mine :'(


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## bearcar1 (Jun 15, 2010)

Say Zeep, regarding locating Tony Casorso, have you check the local penitentiaries? :big:


Nawwww! More than likely he is a CEO of some big name outfit that sells air fresheners. ;D


BC1
Jim


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## zeeprogrammer (Jun 15, 2010)

bearcar1  said:
			
		

> Say Zeep, regarding locating Tony Casorso, have you check the local penitentiaries?



Not a bad suggestion given that he ran around with me. :big:

But more than likely he's recovering in an asylum.

My choice for therapy is this forum.
Did I make the right choice?
The prognosis is 'iffy'.


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## Captain Jerry (Jun 15, 2010)

Speaking of balsa models, does anybody remember the kind that had folding wings that opened at the apogee when you launched them with a rubber band on a stick. My older brother and I decided to max out the altitude. We linked a bunch of rubber bands together and tied them to a 3 foot long stick. My brother would climb up a stepladder with the stick and I would lay on my back, holding the plane by the tail. He would give the stick a big swing and when the tension got so big I couldn't hold it, it launched. The rudder and the stabilizer were just stuck in slots, but we glued them and reinforced the thing all over so that I could stay together and hold up to the acceleration. We didn't have telemetry so I cant tell you ho high it went, but at the top of the launch, when the speed slowed and the wind force reduced, The wings would unfold and rotate into position under rubber band tension and it would glide forever. We'd hop on our bikes and give chase.

He went into the US Navy, was Commander of Top Gun School, flew three tours in Viet Nam, and retired with so many medals and commendations that there isn't room to list them.

I didnt do much.

Every time I go in a hobby shop or toy store I look for one of thos planes for my kids, grand kids, or great grand kids. No luck. They don't sell them anymore. Safety issues.

Jerry


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## DICKEYBIRD (Jun 16, 2010)

Jerry, you're referring to the Jim Walker "Interceptor." Couldn't afford one of those in my "yute" but the rich kid a couple blocks over had one. They flew GREAT!

Check this out:
http://www.americanjuniorclassics.com/interceptor/militarylauncher.htm


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## bearcar1 (Jun 16, 2010)

zeeprogrammer  said:
			
		

> My choice for therapy is this forum.
> Did I make the right choice?
> The prognosis is 'iffy'.



Probably not, but the patient's condition has stabilized somewhat. Rof}

BC1
Jim


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## Lew Hartswick (Jun 16, 2010)

Here are what I have left some 70 yrs later. How many of you had a mechanical 
shooter like that. Not allowed in most games. 
  ...lew...


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## zeeprogrammer (Jun 16, 2010)

Darn you! A bag! All I had was a shoebox.

I never saw a mechanical shooter before.

I recognize some of those marbles.

No shooters though...at least what I knew as shooters.

Cats-Eyes...that's another one I remember now.


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## Artie (Jun 16, 2010)

oh hell... marbles.... ive lost mine.. ;D

Some of the larger ones in Aus were called Tom Bowlers... I wonder what happened to them....

Years ago car batterys had a glass marble in them to stop acid spills when rolled over (basic check valve)... after I discoverd this there was the potential for acid spills in all the cars in my family....... : 

These were a lovely Cleary........ oh my...... down memory lane again....

And dont worry zee, Ill wipe your mouth for you (with 80 grit paper).....

Cheers, Robert T AKA RT AKA Artie


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## Chazz (Jun 16, 2010)

All this talk of marbles reminded me of a Carpenter I used to work for, and, if he happened to be bidding on a hardwood flooring job he would drop a marble on the floor and adjust his bid according to how fast\erratic the marble might roll around\across the floor.  

Chazz


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