Anybody ever wish they were twelve again?

Twelve is good in that Stand By Me way of "you'll never have friends like you did when you were twelve" and you can go riding your bikes around and have adventures and stuff, but I wouldn't want to be 12 again because, you know, I don't want to be a child again. 14 to 17 kinda sucked, but there were good bits, especially drinking till you trhew up and going completely nuts about rock bands. Man I wish music still sounded like it did when I was 17. 18 to 25 is where it's really at, 18 to 25 rocked. 25 to 30 was pretty good too. I'll let you know how the rest turns out.

God no. I hated being twelve. Not a good time. I loved being very small (up to 7ish) then everything 15 and over.

you mean drink legally or illegally mike?

When I was 12, we spent several days marching around the neighborhood with brooms over our shoulders in anticipation of being drafted into the military at any moment and sent off to fight the Russians. That was during the Cuban Missile Crisis. After a couple of days, we realized that the army was not about to draft a bunch of 12 year olds, so the whole thing lost its urgency. Of course, the implications of a nuclear war also sank in about that same time, and we put the brooms back where they belonged. That was the end of my military career. "You don't need the light of the Lord to read the handwriting on the wall." Copies of Warsaw Tales available through www.new-ink.org

Ah the Cuban Missile Crisis... 'Cos. I was born under the threat of the Bomb,' was an oft used response to my mother's whinges about my teenage attitude. Not that I can remember the cuban missile crisis (born 1964) but I saw the film Thriteen Days a few years back. What a tense film! My God, that must have been a scarey time.

I also remember when Krushchev pounded the podium with his shoe at the UN declaring 'we will bury you.' Things like that tended to give Tailgunner Joe McCarthy a degree of credibility that he did not deserve. OTOH, though I was not aware of this at the time (being only about 5-8 yrs old), but subsequently studying that era, there was actually quite a lot of opposition to McCarthyism. This is in contrast to today when there is essentially no effective opposition to those in power, bearing in mind of course that McCarthy was not in power, as such. He was just one loudmouthed Senator with a committee and a microphone. Ah, nostalgia for the Cold War. "You don't need the light of the Lord to read the handwriting on the wall." Copies of Warsaw Tales available through www.new-ink.org

I used to live next to an American air base - Brize Norton - and during the Cuban missile crisis decided to take a trip around a small path that circumnavigated the airfield; outside the perimeter fence. The B52s and B54s were all out on the airstrip why I don't know, but all being guarded by a single soldier with a rifle. The nearest guard looked at me, he was about 200 yards away, and shouted "Hey buddy, move on!" I shouted back that I was on English soil and he had no jurisdiction over me. (I was a lippy kid) He pointed his rifle at me and I did the 100 metre sprint in about 3.4 seconds. I was 12 at the time.

'He was just one loudmouthed Senator with a committee and a microphone.' Wasn’t he just. I've seen excerpts of the hearings before, but watching all the footage in Goodnight and Good Luck was fascinating. When McCarthy was haranguing some sweet little old lady (forget name), he had to leave suddenly. As soon as he did, the Senator who had been sitting quietly next to him, began to question the manner in which the woman was being accused, saying it was unfair. This raised applause from around the room and you could feel the shift happening right there. The bully had left the room and now McCarthy's colleagues, usually cowed in his presence, began to realise that they all thought the same - McCarthy was barking mad.

McCarthy was also an alcoholic in the in last stages of drinking himself to death. He only lasted a short time after the hearing went off the air. "You don't need the light of the Lord to read the handwriting on the wall." Copies of Warsaw Tales available through www.new-ink.org

Oh Wow. I didn't know that.

God no, I hated being twelve. You try being the only girl in schhol with 'twin peaks'. I didnt speak a word for years, and was so ashamed of liking reading. In fact I did not even know my life had started till I was twenty one. Went through all the rebellious motions of doing everything far too young, but did not really know how to have fun until I got to university. Made all the difference. I figure everything up till then was just a warm up for everything that has come since. Should not think about going backwards, there is that saying which I cannot ever remember, something to do with those who pine for the past get stuck in it. Although sometimes I wish someone would pay my bills for me, that there would just be food in the fridge, that I did not need to know what band area of council tax I live in. I am sure you know mikepyro but there is so much more to look forward to. I agree with maddan, eighteen to twenty five is where its at. I would love to say that everyone gets much less excited by the opposite sex as your age creeps up, but looking at those around me right now.... nope. Span

twelve, I went on my first holiday abroad. During tihs time I'd started to get my first proper hard-ons and I remember clearly walking around Venice in shorts and t-shirt with a jumper tied around my waist because I thought it covered up my boners. It was a difficult time but, during that fortnight, I did things with lilos that I'd never considered before. Enlightening. Hear my music: http://music.download.com/3600-5-100795586.html

Twelve? Goodness me, no. Second year at an all-boys grammar school. Not nice. University days - now that's a different matter; beer and dope and music and women (well, not so much the women, to be honest). No uniform, lectures you go to only if you think you might gain something, haircut once a year, being with clever people all the time ... is it still like that??

Lordy no! I'd have to live with my parents - a thought that makes my blood run cold. Every good thing about my childhood (and there were lots) is overshadowed by having a family on the wrong side of dysfunctional jude visit my boring website http://www.judesworld.net

12, No way. I grew up in a place called St John's, all boy's - strict as hell boarding. My wing was called Kings wing and my bedroom "A dorm" had large Church like windows that looked out on to courtyard full of very scary live size satchels. Often, I would be sleeping in that room by my self, the howling wind and menacing shadows from the tree's out side. 12? No bloody way!

no way 12 was rubbish, pants, bad bad bad 41 is where it's at