Lucky Strike

(And No Strike Back)

Reminiscing about the old neighborhood, I can’t believe the stupid things we did
as kids while the whole time considering it normal behavior. One of the stupidest of stupid was the lucky strike credo. Back in the early 1950s, littering was more tolerated than today. With the exception of my dad, who 'brutally assaulted' me in the bubble gum wrapper episode (see my earlier story entitled The Baseball Cards).
Our 'heart of town' consisted of the following... Morris’s and Salvador’s drug stores, George the Tailor, a couple of barber shops, Goldie’s Bar (Goldie was a heroin addict) and Fibber McKeys tavern. This area was usually littered and a prime location for finding cigar bands, especially around Fib’s joint, to pick up for your collection. Empty cigarette packs were strewn about as well (everyone smoked back then). Some idiot in our gang started “the lucky strike war”. It took off like wildfire. There was no stopping it. Instantly, it went out of control. The 'game' went something like this...
If you spotted a Lucky Strike pack on the ground, you would lure your buddy close. If successful, you had the right to stomp on it, yell “LUCKY STRIKE”, and pound your buddy as hard as possible on his arm. But if you didn’t move away fast enough, then he could do the same to you, using the pack against you. To explain further, one foot always had to remain on the pack. So, basically, it was the old military 'hit and run' tactic. So, to avoid a 'Rocky Marciano' retaliatory blow, one yelled “And no strike back!” Kind of like walking out of the drugstore with a candy bar... if you didn’t yell “no dibs” or “fins on all dibs” before your friends yelled “dibs”, then you had to share some with them. It didn't take long for all the gang to be carrying Lucky packs in our pocket. As soon as a friend neared... toss, stomp, yell “lucky strike and no strike back”, and smash his arm! I have to admit, it was great 'pulling a fast one' over on your buddy! A real rush of euphoria by deceit. Man, it doesn’t get much better than that!

Soon, instead of each of us having a 'red badge of courage', all of us were sporting 'black and blue arms of stupidity'! We never figured out who came up with this ridiculous ritual (or how). My guess is that it drifted from one community to another.
Nowadays, fun stuff like that is in the past. Gone away like a cloud of smoke. And ain’t it a shame? What’s a kid of today supposta do for fun? Well, to Lucky Strike, I say amen, and I leave you with the immortal initials...
LSMFT
Lucky Strike Means Fine Tobacco