Thread: Do You Want The Strop?

I remember one time, I did something and had to go to the Principals Office. Got three swats, I got home from school, (my Dad was out at Sea. My Uncle was staying with us.) I got it again only this time with the Razor Strop. Then about four or five months later my Dad came home from I think it was a West Pac tour, he asked me if I had gotten in trouble while he was gone, and of course I said No Sir! I got it again with the Razor Strop for lying to him. I was sure glad when he got off that ship, because if I did something and got the Razor Strop applied to my backside, it wasn't three or four months later it was when he got home. I have a spot on the back of my right leg that if I take a real hot shower or bath it still shows the results of a switch or the Razor strop.

Originally Posted by Magpie

I too suffered the lash. My fathers implements included a cat'O'9 tails the belt, the bullwhip. and of course a meaty appendage that could only be called a hand due to its position at the end of his arm. There is getting a whupping, and then there is being beaten into submission. I feel for any of you that were ever beaten bloody. Sometimes I think I shave with a straight simply because it provides me both a feeling of control that I never had in my youth, and because it was something my father could (or would) not do. Its soothing to my soul. =)

My dad had a Cat-O-Nine Tails, never got beat with it. One time I was told to go cut a Switch from the tree, I came back with a poor excuse for a switch, that made my Mom mad so out came the Razor Strop. I got it from my Mother and then when my Father came home from the Ship, a week or so later (after I would forget what I had done) and I would get again!
I had an Aunt that would scream at my Cousin Joseph Kent You go get me the wooden spoon. And he was so stupid that he did it. She'd beat the daylights out of him.

I suppose the bottom line is that as the older of us remember our childhoods, most of us were pretty damn free to do whatever.

Our communities knew who we were and what we were up to. We paid dearly for taking advantage of it. Just like life.

Good thing we learned. I cannot say for younger generations, however.

Anyway, Smile!

We could be 60 year-old men in North Korea or in a Daesh-controlled town. THEN, it would be literal......Oh! You DO want the strop!

Originally Posted by PatrickA51

My dad had a Cat-O-Nine Tails, never got beat with it.

Soo. What was that cat-o-nine tails for, Pat?

Originally Posted by sharptonn

I suppose the bottom line is that as the older of us remember our childhoods, most of us were pretty damn free to do whatever.

Our communities knew who we were and what we were up to. We paid dearly for taking advantage of it. Just like life.

Good thing we learned. I cannot say for younger generations, however.

Anyway, Smile!

We could be 60 year-old men in North Korea or in a Daesh-controlled town. THEN, it would be literal......Oh! You DO want the strop!

Well said and agreed.

This thread made me chuckle, I decided to delete my original Email incase it was taken out of context. Suffice it to say I was a delinquent child with what now seem like pretty appropriate consequences on more than one occasion. One of the more fond memories I have is that my dad believed in maning up, I wanted a CocaCola yo-yo at the age of 9, he said he would give me one if I dived off the 10M platform at the pool. Damned if I did not lose that bloody yo-yo the day after I got it, never been afraid of heights since.

Originally Posted by Euclid440

Nope never got hit by my folks, the "look" was enough, but the Nuns, good lord…

Sister Martina was like a freakin ninja with a thick wooden yardstick. The Matrix dude hand nothing on her…

I think, they used to train Marines, how to fight dirty during the summers, to keep in shape...

That is no lie. I went to a private school & a nun, the math teacher, had a 3 sided, triangular yardstick.......................talk about hurt!!!!!!!!!!!

Never met eithe of my grand dads, both died a few years before I entered this world, but I would love to have had the chance, I envy people with (good) grand dads, I recently went through supporting my wife through the death of her grand dad, and I was about as heart broken for her as she was in her greiving... Only thing I owned that belonged to my American grand dad (my mother is from Germany) was an old wwII ronson lighter with the army air corp logo on it, but I lost that through my divorce to my 1st wife, she had in her possessions, and still never returned it...

I love the sound of a razor being honed across a fine stone when you know it's "almost there"... As well as the sound of the same razor running across the strop when its just about ready.... Music to my ears...

Originally Posted by strategy8

Never met eithe of my grand dads, both died a few years before I entered this world, but I would love to have had the chance, I envy people with (good) grand dads, I recently went through supporting my wife through the death of her grand dad, and I was about as heart broken for her as she was in her greiving... Only thing I owned that belonged to my American grand dad (my mother is from Germany) was an old wwII ronson lighter with the army air corp logo on it, but I lost that through my divorce to my 1st wife, she had in her possessions, and still never returned it...

I love the sound of a razor being honed across a fine stone when you know it's "almost there"... As well as the sound of the same razor running across the strop when its just about ready.... Music to my ears...

It pisses me off when ex's steal things from you that you treasured all your life.....................................

Where I grew up, the neighborhood moms worked together (like gangsters). If one caught you rolling dirty, she would bust your rear end, and by the time you got home your mom would nail you again. If it was really bad, dad would have a piece when he got home too...

My dad's favorite saying was "Boy, you better be standing on a soft spot." He usually meant it.

I used to tell my kids, "I'm gonna knock a big chunk of skin from the side of your head." I never did though.