Week 16: '69 Pontiac GTO

What better way to welcome the new year than with a toy GTO flying through the snow.

For Daddy's Matchbox, this New Year's Day arrives at a time of actual personal change (as opposed to other New Years where I've tried to force the day as a symbol of change when, well, I just wasn't there).

For these few months since losing my job, combined with the demands of the holidays, I have been a young child at a party at Chuck E. Cheese, overwhelmed by the lights and noise and people and options, unable to process the chaos and finding it both exhilarating and vaguely uncomfortable.

 Like that child, I have been able to see opportunities, but have also let in a type of panic of not knowing where to focus in fear of missing the next ultimate game, darting here then there in a panic which every once in awhile ended up with the internal adult version of an external childhood whaa! whaa! meltdown.

I have attended webinars on advanced educational technology, worked on previously shelved writing projects, both fiction and nonfiction, and have learned new software programs, all the while exploring what I do next to pay the bills. I have spent more time with my children, attending events I would have missed had I been working. I have wrestled with major emotional ups and downs as I reexamined who I am and what is important, coughing up fits of grumpy, irritated, and sullenness like a cat coughing up hairballs -- not pretty.

I have more than once sat in the dark at 1:30 in the morning staring at nothing.

I've discussed with, argued with, and become angered by friends and family. I have at times been overly sensitive and at other times been the opposite (underly sensitive?), and I suspect some of the times have overlapped.

And I have finally begun to understand the difference between taking care of yourself and being selfish.

This New Year's, that overwhelmed feeling and panic of missing out I described above is dissipating as I begin to look at life more in the light of healthy living and service, and I am grateful for this gift.  I feel blessed for what I have and what I am beginning to understand, and I am appreciative of the help and kindness and life I have experienced and continue to experience. And while I don't enjoy conflict, (no, I mean I really, really don't enjoy conflict), I am even thankful for the insight I have gained as a result of my conflicts.

Happy New Years from myself and my family to you and the people you care about. 

I won't spell out why I selected that awesome, awesome car above, but suffice it to say my internal symbolism of a yellow '69 Pontiac GTO racing through the snow is something that is pretty darn good.

-------------------------------------

The incredible pic of my Matchbox GTO courtesy of Phil Pekarcik. Readers, know that the final picture is even cleaner than an earlier version sent by Phil, even if these tired eyes couldn't spot the upgrades! 

The '69 Pontiac GTO of part of the Muscle Mania 2010 Hot Wheels lineup. 

Week 15: '08 Garbage Truck

Happy Holidays from Daddy's Matchbox!

This week's theme was to revolve around a garbage truck -- a planned comparison of tossing out the illusions of commercialism at the holidays, enjoying the important things and the wonders of the mundane, and so on.

Now normally, the car pic is done by one of a group of talented friends who are skilled photographers, but this week's hectic pace didn't allow me to get my little toy garbage truck out to anyone, so I snapped it myself with my cellphone (hence the blurriness).

Watching me take the picture, Racer A (four years old), asked, "Can I bring out one of my cars and take a picture with your truck too?"

The request seemed harmless -- after all, it's digital, so it wouldn't be using actual film. "Sure," I said.

He paddled off to his room, and with little instruction, snapped off this:

Feeling inspired he paddled off again, to snap this: 

Which, after a few more paddlings off to his room, became this:








And eventually mutated into this:

And so on, expanding into:

and this:

 and this: 

 and of course this: 

Until by the end I had pictures of my feet, a floor mat, the computer, the pattern on my wife's pajama pants, and a variety of abstracts.

The culmination of this project was, as you would guess, a self portrait of the artist:

By this point, my original theme didn't feel punchy enough, and while I would not get to share the charming story of how I stood outside in the cold last week with all three kids, watching the garbage truck arrive, all of us waving to the workers, completely caught up in the moment of watching a big, noisy truck -- who am I to interfere with another artist's vision?

So instead of my usual metaphor, metaphor, play on words, pithy comment, wrap up, I am tossing it all out to go with a pictorial photo log by a guest artist, my own Racer A.

Have a Wonderful, Wonderful Holiday Season!!!

While Cheerios is a registered trademark of General Mills, I am in no way sponsored by that or any other company including Mattel, Inc., so these are not paid product placements.  But listen guys, I am currently unemployed, so if you want to talk...

The featured car is number 66 of 100 of the Matchbox 2010 lineup and is part of their City Action collection. I really like this highly detailed, fun little replica.

Week 14: Cadillac Sedan Deville

I selected the Matchbox version of the 1969 Cadillac Sedan Deville for its color (lavender metallic flake).

Holiday lights are up in the neighborhood, and their colors elicit excitement from the kids, even if that excitement is drawn from the same decorated house we passed a few days ago...or earlier in the day...or a few minutes ago as we go by again to return home to grab the bag of stuff we forget on the step. Holiday lights are the quiet fireworks of December, and while everyone enjoys the classy illumination of the all white motif, the multicolored lights are what really bring out the ooohs and ahhhs from the kids. Color is a wonderful thing.

We have a prism glass that hangs in front of our kitchen window, and on sunny days at certain times, the light hits the glass just right and sprays rainbowlets across the floor and wall. Bubba G (20 months) will stop whatever he is doing to run after the floor rainbows and stomp on them, giggling -- sometimes, they even make him dance.

Such is the power of color.

As a kid, I had a car of similar color to the Caddy, but more pinkish metallic. That car (I can't remember the kind, but it was some fantasy car, perhaps a Johnny Lightning?) had an honored spot in the toy box for it's coloration, a tough pink, which seemed impossible, but there it was, like some powerful deep woods rarity of an animal in carburetored form. This was a car that could not be beat. Sometimes I imagined it was being driven by the mysterious Racer X (from the cartoon Speed Racer).

Colors seemed more intense and important as a kid.

I'm not saying colors are not amazing now, just that, as a kid, they were more.  

I had a Whammo Superball that was swirled deep blue and black, and 37 or so years later that color combination takes me back. I distinctly remember thinking that those two colors looked extremely cool together, and for months I was fixated on coloring pictures with my Crayola Midnight Blue and Black crayons.

The farther we move from that initial mindblowing wonder-flood of color we get in babyhood, the more we look for a little help to remind of us of the power of color. This help comes both naturally, such as with autumn leaves and crazy glow pink sunsets, and artificially, such as with laser light shows and paint swatches. 

But tell me, is there anyone, of any age (given the person has working eyesight and can register color), that doesn't get some type of rush from looking at a wall of paint swatches? Color, man, it is just the best.

Enjoy the colors of the holiday. If you're in the Midwest, such as myself, or in the north, you get the added benefit of a white backdrop of snow to emphasize the hues, but, if you're in warmer climates, well, you're warmer. But wherever you are, celebrate color. 

And listen, if you want to dance around a mini-rainbow in your kitchen, go ahead. You can sometimes learn, or re-learn, something from a colorful child.

Excellent photo with dramatic blue contrast (to jump start your color juices) courtesy of Phil Pekarcik.

Matchbox Cadillace Sedan Deville part of the Heritage Classic 2010 lineup.

Week 13: Ferrari 308 GTS

I am ready to drive fast. 

Lake effect snow hitting Ohio, I'm thinking convertible.

Two child safety seats and a booster seat, I'm thinking two-seater.

Freelancing without a steady income, I'm thinking Ferrari.

Accustomed to the practicality of a minivan, I'm thinking sports car.

Mid-life crisis? Maybe a little, but such is the joy of Daddy's Matchbox. For 99 cents, I have a brand new Ferrari, the same 308 GTS that Tom Seleck drove in Magnum P.I. I'm not wasting my time opening doors, either. Stiff lower back, thinking jumping up and over the door right into the driver's seat.

I am ready to drive fast, if only metaphorically.

Because there is so much to do, to read, to think about, to try, and to experience, and time is zipping by so fast that the roadsigns of life are beginning to look like a picket fence.* I'm hitting the brakes, spinning the wheel, and skidding into a parking space, but then I'm off again, because who wants to park?

I want to drive.

I'm feeling wild. You can tell. I went for the Ferrari Hot Wheels this week.

Yup, I'm ready to drive fast, but playing in the snow today with my kids, racing my ten-year-old down the snowy driveway, him towing four-year-old racer A in an orange saucer sled, me pulling baby Bubba G in a red baby sled, cutting in front of  Racer Z as Bubba G's baby slid skids sideways eliciting a squeal of delight, I'm thinking these more subtle adventures of speed, luxury and drama are just what I want right now.

Adventure, I realize, is a state-of-mind.

And if I need anymore, I can always grow a Magnum P.I. style mustache.

*For those of you who remember, this is a reference to Charlie Ryan's hot rod anthem "Hot Rod Lincoln," although as a kid I was familiar with the Commander Cody and his Lost Planet Airmen version. Above is a live recording by Bill Kirchen (of Commander Cody)  from 2008.

Photo of my Hot Wheels Ferrari 308 GTS zipping into the sunset courtesy of Phil Pekarcik.

Week 12: Datsun Bluebird 510

My wife and I hosted Thanksgiving, a combination event also celebrating Racer A's fourth birthday.

I began the day a bit stressed, however, as when we began planning earlier in the month I was employed, and by the time guests arrived, I was not.  I unexpectedly lost my job of more than seven years, and while I've been upbeat (see Week 11), the fiscal concerns of being unemployed during the holidays were difficult to shake that day, especially given the onslaught of buy-buy-buy ads on TV, radio and even the net.

As the guests arrived, those concerns simmered down, and we had a great meal, with wonderful food and drink additions from everyone. Nobody finished hungry.

I am thankful for the dinner, and that I didn't burn anything down while frying the turkey outside in a propane-fueled fryer, but what I am most thankful for is how great of a time Racer A had.

No huge gifts, black light bowling, throngs of kids, coordinated Transformers napkins, cups and balloons, or singing rats. Just family, a few gifts, and ice cream cake. But the celebration was sincere, and so was his smile.

For any regular readers of Daddy's Matchbox or my other blog, Thought Bubbling, you know I don't do serious, at least not unless it is disguised as humor, so this straight-forward account is a-typical. Daddy's Matchbox, however, is also a type of snapshot of my time on this planet, measured in weeks and toy cars, so I wanted to try to do justice to this very real Thanksgiving, because I was, and am, thankful. Life can be filled with so much clutter, hollowness, and commercialism, and yet so little appreciation.

Watching Racer A blow out his candles, I knew we all had pushed past that for that moment, and man, that was truly something for which to be thankful. Nothing but real, and no matter what anyone says, that's not always easy to do.


So how can a 1969 Datsun Bluebird possibly fit into this week's blog?

Because this car just made me smile. No symbolism this time, or thematic purity, or connection whatsoever to my real life. For this week, I simply picked a car that made me smile. For this week, that was truly enough.

---------------------------------------------

A Daddy's Matchbox confession:

When I began Daddy's Matchbox three months ago, I purchased one car each week, with no thought to collecting (I'm not the collector mentality and am a bit of a minimalist with personal possessions).

These little cars can be addictive, however, and as time went on, I became enamored by the chase -- finding a Hot Wheels Treasure Hunt, waiting for new models to be released on certain days, keeping an eye out for flaws, etc.

I began reading about their history and learning about the collector community. And, as the 2010 models were wrapping up, I began stocking up and my collection grew at more than one a week, especially when I found the occasional two-for-one sale.

I really like these little buggers.

Given my current employment situation, I've discontinued the multi-car purchases, but I don't have guilt about a weekly addition, nor do I feel it ties into the empty commercialism I strive against. In addition to being affordable, there is an innocence and a childlike fun to these cars I find satisfying when contrasted against the hectic, complicated and at times noisy and harsh world.

Now don't think I'm going to go and get all soft and sweet -- I wouldn't do that to you.

But if you find my hobby juvenile or worthy of a solid shake of the head, give it a try sometime. After a tough day, go to the store, pick yourself out a car, and simply enjoy it. I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to.

But I bet you end up adding at least another car to your collection at some point, even if you do it on the sly.




Featured Hot Wheels is number 37 of the 2009 New Models collection. Photo taken by my wife Rochelle Luckwitz on her Android phone.

Week 11: Land Rover Discovery

The Matchbox I selected for this week is about adventure, beginning with dreams of a park-rangery, outdoor living, brown-bear-you-get-out-of-that-garbage-can adventure. (The selection is also about being aquamarine, my color of choice.)

When I finished high school in 1981, I had plans of becoming a park ranger. I became an English teacher instead, and soon thereafter moved into the editorial world, a far cry from patrolling trails and giving tours of Old Faithful. I'm not sure what happened -- must have read my class schedule incorrectly.

Between the Nissan Skyline and the Hollowback (Week 10's car selection), my +7 year run as an editor at a company, part of an overall +16 year run in the editorial world (+18 if I count proofreading for a print shop), came to a close, and now I'm revisiting those park ranger thoughts.

Not in the sense of chucking it all in at age 47 and becoming a park ranger, though. 

The parts I am revisiting are the ideas of choice and adventure.

As a kid, job thoughts are not based on limitations, but on the premise you just pick what you want, like from a menu, and it is the dessert menu -- employment aspirations from my children over the years have included rock star, race car driver, video game designer, dragon, basketball player, fix-it guy, spy and actor. 

Then you grow up, make a bunch of decisions, respond to a bunch of circumstances, and get swept away by a whole bunch of external factors, and somewhere, amid the responsibilities and drudgery, many of us (most of us?) lose that sense of adventure and that feeling of choice.

Somehow, blessedly, as a result of a bunch external factors,  a bunch of circumstances, and a whole bunch of decisions, I've managed to rekindle that spirit of choice and adventure, and man, what a great feeling.

I say spirit of choice and adventure, because the responsibilities and the realities remain, as does the hard-fought platter of experiential hors d'oeuvres I've gained over my life that are too tasty to toss out, so going the rock star route at this stage probably isn't going to work for me, but what has changed is how I view the future, and how I view making a living.

What a phrase -- making a living. 

Tell you what, let's revisit this topic down the road, say Week 31, and I'll give you an update on how I'm doing.

For now, I'm living life and rediscovering the adventure of the story and the story of the adventure.

Right now, I'm living my own aquamarine Discovery.

------------------------------------

For me, adventures and stories are almost the same, so below are five random stories from my career retrospect so far:

• Stuffing envelopes for New York's Museum of Modern Art (MOMA) for invites to a gala featuring a who's who of famous folks (this was a part time gig, and for a 20-something Ohio bumpkin this experience was astonding.)
• Proofreading proofs and plates at a shop printing pornographic video/sex toy catalogs. I even got to make sure the black dot hiding certain areas was placed correctly.
• Cooking at the historic Old Port Tavern in Portland, Maine when it burned in the mid 80s. (The fire had nothing to do with my cooking, thank you, and it is not related to "The Great Fire of Portland" of 1866.) 
• Manning an answer line for a company that sold television/electronics remote controls -- did this actually happen?
• Age 14 -- sitting in a cement bunker hand-loading clay pigeons into a manual skeet flinging machine, listening to someone yell "PULL!" and hearing the shots fired over my head.

Matchbox Land Rover Discovery 8 of 10 of Matchbox 2010 Outdoor Sportsman line.


Photograph of car courtesy of Dominic Buccilli.

Week 10: Hollowback

The picks for Daddy's Matchbox are and will be (for the most part) replicas of real cars that have rolled off carmaker lines -- some Hot Wheels models may be based on modified versions for street racing, but you won't see the car that looks like a dinosaur or something.

So when I grabbed this Hot Wheel's Hollowback from the rack at Target,  I assumed it was based on some underground racing reality or car modified for drifting. As hip as I might seem, this late 40-something dude in Ohio is somewhat removed from the illegal street races of L.A., although I have seen The Fast and the Furious, The Fast and the Furious II, III, and Tokyo Drift (in the spirit of full disclosure, I was actually cooking dinner during III and Tokyo Drift, but I ran into the livingroom for the race scenes).

The idea was, I would tie it into music because obviously this related to the Gwen Stefani song "Hollaback Girl."

I gave the car to Andy, the guy who takes some of my car pics and who is +20 years younger, and explained my most excellent blog idea.

"You know, like the Gwen Stefani song 'Hollowback Girl?'" I asked.

"No," Andy said.

"No, yeah, you know, this is a Hollowback, so the Hollowback girl would be the hot girl who drops the flags during a street race, like in The Fast and the Furious. See, she isn't going to do that."

"Uh, no," said Andy. "The song is 'Hollaback Girl,' but your idea makes a lot of sense."

At that moment we both knew that it didn't, and I just had sounded really, really old.

"Like the girl, who, you know drops the flag, for the...Hollowback..." I weakly said.

"Right. For the Hollowback car. But no."

"So...."

So I did learn, by Googling, that hollowback is a B Boy type dance move, and hollaback has nothing what so ever to do with cars.

Oh, well, it's still a cool car. And if you don't know what "drifting" or "B Boy" refer to, well I'm sorry -- you're just not as hip as me.

Photo of Hot Wheels Hollowback courtesy of Andy Bindernagel.