Previously Owned

I was randomly drifting through the blogs, attempting to find deep thoughts and insightful comments when I stumbled on a blog called Previously Owned.  I can't support or decry this blog because I went no farther than the name.
Honestly, my mind makes some strange connections and I wondered haven't we all been previously owned?  I'm not talking about being a belonging.  I'm talking about those pitiful pictures you see on the internet of terrible, hilarious problems befalling the average citizen.  Sometimes labeled Pwned! or just Owned! I'm not hip to the difference.
I've been Owned! many times, luckily never on film.  For instance, when we were kids, my Dad showed us the wonder of grape vine swings.  For you city kids, this involves finding a tree infested with wild grape vines.  These aren't the kind of vine you see in a winery.  They climb to the top of a tree and can be a couple inches thick at the base. Here is a likely candidate.
Grape vine image
These vines can be and are used by redneck kids as rope swings. If the tree is strong enough, and the vine is thick enough, and you have an axe, and hopefully a hill, this activity is a blast.  It is worth the chance of Pwnership!

Step one: find the perfect vine in the perfect place.  If the tree isn't on a hill, the swing is pretty tame.  The perfect vine will take the abuse of a couple kids jumping as high as they can and yanking on it.  The less than perfect vine will fall on your head.

Step two: run back to the house and find an axe or a hatchet.  A vine must be detached from its roots to be used as a swing.  They kill the trees, so it isn't a terrible loss to get rid of a few.  Cut through the base high enough that the kids can drag the vine up the hill a ways without the bottom dragging but not so high no one can reach it.

Step three:  drag the vine up the hill a ways.  I kind of gave that one away.

Step four:  Grab on tight and run down the hill.  Screaming is optional.

The result of all this feverish activity is that as the vine swings away from the hill, the ground drops rapidly away from the feet of the human monkey hanging on to it, and the kids have fun.  The ride is exhilarating and much cheaper than Kings Island.
As you may have surmised, there are drawbacks, caveats, and fine print involved in this activity.  Most of the time, no problem is encountered.  Everyone swings a few times.  A couple kids let go right away and slide down the hill, no big deal.  Sometimes things don't go as smoothly.
Every now and then the perfect swing can be found on the perfect hill. The vine can be dragged way up the hill.  The hill drops off steeply and the ride is super exciting.  We found this swing.  I swung it. Repeatedly.
Then there was a problem.
I mentioned that part of this activity relies on the strength of tree and vine.  One way to reach the stress limit of either is to put a hundred pounds of weight on the end of the vine and swing it back and forth thirty or forty times. I was a crash test dummy waiting to happen.
My sisters and possibly a cousin or two were swinging on the best vine ever. We were swinging twenty or thirty feet out and about that much above the bottom of the ravine before returning to the hillside.  The ground would disappear below and the feeling of flight would be upon the lucky child.
It was my turn and, as usual, I dragged the vine as far up the hill as I could. I ran down the hill, grabbed tight and flew out into space...
A supporting vine tendril snapped.
My heart jumped into my throat as my short life flashed pitifully before my eyes.
I didn't fall.  Amazingly, the rest of the vine held and I continued to swing.  It was a long drop and I was pretty lucky.
As I began to relax though, I realized that my return trajectory had changed.  I was no longer swinging back toward the soft hillside but toward an apparently pissed off Hickory tree which was supporting the majority of this vine.
It's amazing how intimidating a tree can look when you approach it fast enough.  Ask a drunk.  Unfortunately, I was totally sober at twelve years old, I didn't have the benefit of blurred vision until after the tree smacked me in the face and chest.
Here's the odd thing.  I didn't bounce off and fall.  Somehow, I let go of that vine and I grabbed the tree trunk.  The vine went away and I was left hanging twenty or thirty feet off the ground against a tree I didn't know how to climb.
Imagine this twenty feet higher
I was stunned for a moment, spitting bark and blinking rapidly to dislodge pieces in my eyes. When I realized I was still alive, I put the highlights reel back inside my head and looked around. I'm not terrified of heights but I have a healthy respect for sudden stops on hard surfaces.  The ground looks much harder while hanging in a tree.
I was officially Pwned! Anyone with a camera could have had me on a web site in minutes and I hate to think of the video.  Luckily, the internet wasn't yet in existence. Cell phones were the size of bricks and sans camera.  After a few minutes of panic, I realized it was not necessary to understand tree climbing to go down.  I loosened my arms enough that I had a fairly graceful if sandpaper-esque trip to the bottom of the trunk.
As with most things when we were kids, this only phased us for about as long as it took to tell each other how scary it was and how cool I was for having it happen to me.  Then we went looking for another perfect vine, on another perfect hill.