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.

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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.



Daddy's Matchbox wants to GIVE HEALTH with P&G!!

What's that P&G thing on the right side of the blog? It's a call to action as part of P&G's GIVE HEALTH program to bring water to developing nations.

Every click brings a day of clean drinking water donated by Procter & Gamble to a developing nation, and Daddy's Matchbox is proud to join other bloggers in this great program.

A network of GIVE bloggers and their readers generated more than 21,000 days of clean drinking water this past summer during the GIVE HEALTH Blogivation -- the goal now is to reach 100,000 days by the end of 2010.

Additionally, if this blog generates at least 1,000 clicks, it will get promoted via P&G's Facebook and Twitter account, a nice little plus, to be certain, but the real goal here is to bring water where it is needed.

Thanks, readers, and please take a few seconds to click the GIVE HEALTH button.


Sincerely,

Dale Luckwitz, the Daddy of Daddy's Matchbox (and the bubbler of http://thoughtbubbling.blogspot.com/).

Week 9: Nissan Skyline GT R34

This is a car made for speed.

Children, however, are not (made for speed).

They're fast all right, especially when running dripping wet from taking a bath or tearing off down the driveway when you turn your back, but they are not built for speed in terms of allowing parents to do anything speedily -- say, get somewhere on time.

"On time" is an adult concept -- To Racer A (almost 4) and Bubba G (18 months) being awake equals being on time. Even if they are looking forward to going someplace, like a playground, that time thing doesn't call the shots. Being alive is being on time.

The other day I was attempting to get out of the house to drive my son to pre-school (we were not going to be driving a Nissan Skyline GT, however). The leaves dropped from the trees and it had rained, so everything was soaking.

"Ready to go?" I ask.
"Yes, Daddy," Racer A answers, barefoot.
"Where are your socks?"
"In my room."
"You need to wear them," I patiently say.
"Oh, I'll wear sandals."
"No, it is cold and wet. Go get your socks on."
"I don't know where they are."
"You just said they were in your room."
"Oh, yeah. Can you get them? I can't reach them."
[Daddy gets socks - Racer A begins to put on socks.]
"Daddy, listen to this new beat I learned." [Racer A begins to beat box]
"That is a good beat, but we really have to get going, okay?"
"Okay. These socks feel weird. Can you fix them?" [Daddy fixes weird socks]
Can I have yogurt?"

... random questions and diversions continue until we both have on coats and shoes and are walking out the door.

"Okay, let's get in the ..." [Daddy looks for Racer A, who has disappeared. Hears mushy, splashy, leafy sounds.

"Daddy look at all the leaves! They're WET!!!"

[Daddy rushes to scoop up Racer A before leaves have adequate opportunity to transfer all their wetness to the eager preschooler.  Hears creaking door like from an old black and white mystery movie and paddling sound, then mushy, splashy, leafy sounds. Had not completely latched door and Bubba G had escaped, in his pajamas. Has wet leaves on his head.]


I repeat. Being alive is being on time.

The Nissan Skyline might be racing all fast and furious or getting to a place quickly, but maybe sometimes it is just driving to drive -- it's all life -- the race is every second.

Maybe that's not such a bad way to be.

For more on Racer A, check out my other blog, ThoughtBubbling.

Photo of my Hot Wheels Nissan Skyline GT courtesy of Phil Pekarcik.

Nisaan Skyline GT (R34) Number 7 of Hot Wheels 2010 New Models. Hot Wheels and Matchbox are registered trademarks of Mattel, Inc.

Cars are for sharing!

Thanks to everyone who has expressed support on this undertaking. If you like something at daddysmatchbox.blogspot or my other blog thoughtbubbling.blogspot.com, please share it! Facebook it, tweet it, send an email link (just click the share buttons at the end of each blog), add it to your Google Reader as an RSS, or whatever, but help me get the word out. Blogs are for sharing!

Also, a reader pointed out he was unable to leave comments unless registered. That is fixed and now anyone can post a comment, so share you thoughts, and tell anyone you know who has Matchbox/Hot Wheels stories about the Share Your Own Matchbox/Hot Wheels Stories tab at the top of the blog. (Check out MK's great story of collection...and destruction!)

Again, thanks for the support!

With wheels turning --

- Dale

P.S. Picture at top is an original Hot Wheels installment art piece constructed on my ottoman by my preschooler Racer A.

P.P.S -- For those of you who love aquariums and fish as much as I do, I will also be doing random blogs on the Cleveland Aquarium ning -- it's free to join this community as Cleveland gathers support for a wonderful new aquarium -- just click on the Cleveland Aquarium badge on the right of my blog or go to http://clevelandaquarium.ning.com/.

Week 8: Lotus Evora '08

Zipping through the downtown streets in my orange Lotus, my custom-tailored Armani suit crisp and ready for adventure, is something that...

Has never happened.

While you so see the occasional family sedan Matchbox, for the most part, Hot Wheels and Matchbox  represent cars kids think look cool, and while great, it leaves a gap, especially for adult collectors, of unrepresented cars..the cars we actually drove as young adults. I'm talking about the rusty K Cars, AMC Hornets, and Pintos.

You know, a Hot Wheels AMC Pacer would be something.

My grandfather had a red Pacer, but he has been gone for many years, and that Pacer for even more.

In my memory, the Pacer looked something like this:

As you can see, I remember the Pacer as a bowler hat with wheels.

In reality, the Pacer didn't look so much like a hat or gumball machine with tires, but most of us who are even old enough to remember the Pacer must rely on memory, because you don't see the below car on the road anymore.

1975-76 AMC Pacer X Liftback Coupe*

The point is, there are some cars that might be fun to see in 1:64 die-cast form.

At least I would buy a Matchbox of a Pacer. Wouldn't you?

For the record: Johnny Lightning has made a diecast toy 1974 AMC Hornet.

 Photo of my Matchbox Lotus Evora courtesy of Andy Bindernagel.

*Image of the AMC Pacer X Liftback Coupe (1975/76) from WikiMedia Common, image by WikiMedia Common user Spantax, used under the Creative Commons Attribution/Share-Alike License. Image downloaded Oct. 30, 2010.

Week 7: Jaguar XK

The fun in buying this car was that a favorite Matchbox car as a child was a blue-gray Jaguar (a Matchbox by Lesney). That car stood apart because in my under-ten-year-old mind it was exotic.

Not exciting, like the outrageous fantasy-type Hot Wheels and Johnny Lightning cars I raced, with their wild shapes and imagined super-hero type powers. No, this car was exotic, fashioned after a real car from a real place and lifestyle far away. I suspect that idea of the exotic might have grown out of The Children's International Film Festival (I think that was what it was called, anyway), which ran on TV, and which might have a car that looked something like my Matchbox.

Growing up in a small Midwestern town in Ohio at the time when the 60s were turning over the reigns to the 70s, my exposure to foreign culture was limited. I didn't know people from outside the U.S., and since this was pre-Internet, pre-cable television, my ideas of the outside world came from books I read occasionally set in another country and a the previously mentioned foreign moves for children which ran on Sundays on television. I don't remember if it was on one of the three VHF stations, 3, 5, or 8, or the two UHF stations, 43 or PBS station 25, we received.

I loved these movies, especially the ones from France and England. Often moody, these movies didn't guarantee a happy everything-works-out ending like most American movies, so they felt truer to me. The child characters might be a little tougher, a little braver, a little sadder, and a little more worldly, but they also seemed more independent than kids in domestic movies. They were different (and had cool accents!), and while I didn't always want to live these lives, I was fascinated by this differentness.

My blue-gray Matchbox was from these kind of other places.

I wasn't an artsy kid. I watched Speed Racer and Lost in Space. I played piggyback crashcars at recess. I liked Twinkies. I circled toys I wanted in the Sears Gift Book catalog. I hiked through the woods with my dog to the railroad tracks. But these foreign movies gave me a longing for the exotic, and kick-started my appreciation of foreign movies.

Additionally, they showed me how dramatic rain and fog could be. Those foreign movies loved the rain.

Now the Jaguar XK is nothing like the old-school Jaguar I had, but that's how memories get triggered.

Now I'll just need to find a Hot Wheels that I can somehow tie-in to Benny Hill.

Photo of Matchbox Jaguar XK by Dominic Buccilli.

Week 6: '73 Ford Falcon XB

I knew the Ford Falcon, yet this Hot Wheels model didn't look familiar. Hot looking car, though.

A little research revealed the Ford Falcon XB did not release in the U.S. but in Australia, and, more importantly, the '73 Ford Falcon XB, with a bit of modification, became the mean-looking "Interceptor" from the original 1979 post-apocalyptic adventure movie Mad Max .

If you don't know this movie (could that be possible??),  Mad Max featured a baby-faced Mel Gibson and lots of violence and punk rockeresque-looking bad guys. As a teen, there was nothing to dislike about this cult-classic-in-the-making of a movie. Well, as an adult, is there still anything to dislike? Full-out R-rated, though, and not one my kids will see for a long time, even on television.




Check out http://www.madmaxmovies.com/cars/ for Mad Max trivia and cool car pics

 

The first true R-rated movie I saw in raw form (most movies I saw as a kid were cooked down versions on TV) was another Mel movie, the Mel Brooks comedy Blazing Saddles. I was 11, and my grandmother, who didn't look at ratings, took me to a matinee. That was the most I ever remember her laughing, crying as she leaned over and tried to cover my ears during the raunchy parts (she did a lot of attempted covering), which made her laugh even harder. The best.

Seeing that one at the theater earned me bragging rights at school, even if it took me a few years to understand all the jokes.

The first R-rated movie I chose on my own was 1975's French Connection II. An unlikely choice (I was 13), the movie was one of the only things playing at a small theater in Sarasota, Fla. in walking distance to the condo of my grandmother -- yup, the same one. My family was there on a vacation. I went to the movie myself, and I'm fairly certain nobody ever knew I saw that particular film.

I am extremely conservative in what I let my kids watch, even covering the baby's eyes if something nasty shows up. Comparing R movies of my youth with today's movies is tricky, however, as PGs and PG-13s, as well as movies that play on TV, now have quite a bit of .... Rness, so I don't base decisions on ratings, but content.

A lack of nudity, visual violence or swearing doesn't mean safe -- implications of horrible behavior is worse in my mind than a flash of someone's naughty bits, and I even am cautious of kid's programming filled with snarky sarcasm.

Because of this, however, my kids might not be as desensitized to movies as some. My fifth grader, Racer A, begged me to watch the original Jaws. For the life of me I don't know why he became fixated on that movie, or even how he heard of it, but he asked me for at least a month. Finally, I gave in, and we easily found a copy at the library.

Scared him senseless. Regardless of how many times over the past month I had told him it would be scary, after it was over, he was angry with me for allowing him to watch it. Umm...what??

In fairness to him, it didn't take long for him to realize, and laugh, at the absurdity of that blame. But still...

It is a scary one.

Now, with Halloween approaching, I have to walk that line between allowing him to watch a good scary movie (at his insistence, again) and keeping him away, as long as I can, anyway, from the really twisted stuff. I'll probably go monsters. A monster movie, while scary, is about a non-human menace, as opposed to a monster-like person behaving horribly.

Kind of like Mel Gibson today.

Picture of Ford Falcon XB by Andy Bindernagel.

Hot Wheels is a registered trademark of Mattel, Inc.

Week 5: Volkswagen Golf V GTI

This past Saturday was my wedding anniversary, and my wife and I celebrated by going to a wedding.

No sarcasm --I looked forward to this wedding -- two exceptionally matched people each solid enough with their own selves to let the other person be who he/she is. I had none of the oh boy, I'm not so sure about this hope it works out guilty trepidation I've had at past weddings, and, if you've been to more than a few, you have also had, even if you've never admitted you did.

Going to a wedding, with its significance of a new beginning, is a reflection on time passing when done on one's own anniversary, after the cardboard pine tree of romance dangling  from life's rearview mirror has lost some of its odor-blocking power. Let's be honest - life can be stinky at times, and we all like fresh scents. Inevitably you are brought back to the beginning of the union of you and your spouse and you begin reflecting on how those vows are holding up.

In fact, sitting in the wedding hall, I had a type of Scrooge moment, being visited by ghosts of Anniversaries past and present and sensing that spooky ghost of the future all pumped up and ready to jack me up with its bony hand, pointing out my flaws and where they would get me. Go away, bony, finger-pointing ghost. You are all about decay, but fresh is fun, and you, my friend, are not fresh.

Which brings me to the this week's Matchbox selection - a Volkswagen Golf. I searched for the most unexciting Matchbox or Hot Wheels car I could find, not an easy thing to do. This commuter ride was the best I could score (truth be told, I really like this car both as a Matchbox and as a real car, and I don't find it boring, but compared to a Ferrari or Lamborghini....).

To make it more domestic I came up with placing the car on a cutting board for the picture. The photographer, Andy, added the subtle touch of the greasy spatula. He's an artist.

The point here is that to a kid, and also to a certain dad/husband who buys himself a Matchbox or Hot Wheels car each week, there is no bad car. Every individual car is exciting, even garbage trucks or family sedans. As a metaphor for marriage, the Matchbox idea here doesn't work, but as a reminder for marriage, it does.

How? Make every moment fresh -- think about yourself as a kid with a new Matchbox or Hot Wheels -- all thrills, all play. Must every car be a sports car? No way. They all become part of your collection, and every one has its own charm.

Because with marriage, you are collecting moments for the long-haul, and not every one is going to be a Chevelle SS, but they are all cherished parts of the collection, and some might even be worth something some day. They are all good.

Maybe the symbol of a Matchbox doesn't work for you, so find one that does, but I encourage you to all try to remember the freshness and kid-like joy of a new toy when building your collection of moments with you spouses, children and friends.

For me, I'm going to think about this little green Matchbox as my own personal reminder of keeping it fresh.

Happy Anniversary, Rochelle, and congratulations Erin and Pat.



And be glad I didn't attempt one of my usual word plays with Match and Box, because I'm sure that wouldn't have ended well.



Matchbox Volkswagen Golf  V GTI is number 28 of 100 of the 2010 collection and is 4 of 6 of the Metro Rides offerings.

Photo of my Matchbox courtesy of Andy Bindernagel. Cutting board, greasy spatula and knife courtesy of Kerry.

Week 4: '64 Austin Mini Cooper S

If I see a Mini Cooper while walking, I pause.

I experience MiniPause.

American muscle cars from the 50s, 60s and early 70s take my breath away, so it might seem a Mini Cooper's boxy, constant simplicity would not hold an appeal, but oh it does. I love looking at these cars.

I concede it could be their size, causing the same neurons in my brain to fire that are ignited when some people see a baby version of of adult clothing, like a tiny pair of baby Chuck Taylor hightop shoes or a toddler denim jacket...and by some people, I guess I also include myself. (But I DON'T ever say 'Ohh, how cute!!' What? I don't!)

Nonetheless, I don't think the baby mini-version factor is why I love staring at Minis. No, I write it off as something I call CarWonder, that factor that causes a person to actually lose track of time and enjoy a car's looks outside of the limitations of responsibility and real life.

And it doesn't just happen to adults.

A few days ago I took Racer A ( the 3 going on 4 son) on an errand,  parked at the errand place, unbuckled A from his carseat, and grabbed some papers. In the two seconds it took to get the papers, A  had taken off, and I turned to see his little blond mop of hair slowly drifting down the space between the two rows of parked cars.

The panic a parent gets in these situations is a simultaneous rush of terror-guilt-frustration-more guilt-more terror and horror (Since I've already coined MiniPause and CarWonder, I won't give this gut-twister of a feeling a name, but it needs no name, and if you have kids, you've experienced it).

 I yelled, but he continued wandering, in a trance, and did not appear to hear me.

The parking lot was quiet, I scanned for immediate danger, and began to run.

The reason I didn't run right when I saw him was because running after a toddler or preschooler, I have found, often triggers an instinctual run and giggle response, and I would not risk that reaction until:

1. I was sure I could catch him and/or
2. I was sure there were no immediate dangers, such as an approaching steamroller or a Tour de France tribute bicycle race that would squash him if I missed achieving 1. There wasn't. The parking lot was freakishly still.

But he didn't run, or giggle. He only continued walking in that sleepwalk way he was doing and stopped behind a car, apparently the target of his wandering.

 Now in reality, this car was only two cars away, but my retelling of this event is not done for dramatic effect. That 12 or so feet felt like the length of a football field, and I experienced an entire football field length of emotion getting to him.

"What is that?" he asked, pointing at the back of a car and standing so close his finger was only a half inch from the brand emblem on the trunk. If he heard me panting, he did not acknowledge it.

 After admonishing and lecturing him for wandering off, I saw he was almost unable to hear me. The look was in his glazed eyes -- CarWonder.

"That is a BMW," I said.

"I like that car, Daddy."
"Me too," I replied.

The car Racer A had stopped behind was a four-door new model BMW 5 Series Sedan (Black Sapphire color), and it was pretty.

Now as adults, our feelings on cars are often filtered through our individual life experiences and beliefs, and along the way our perception of a particular car gathers emotions like a toddler's lollipop gathers lint, based on personal views on success, status, our own place in the world, our history, and more. I suspect the BMW brand might do that even more than other cars in this country.

But to a three-year-old, concepts of status, cost, and image don't exist yet, or at least not much. Racer A wasn't looking at a car he was supposed to like. We just smitten by something he did like. He was under the spell of CarWonder.

Which brings me back to my little 99 cent Mini Cooper Matchbox, which is actually part of the 2009 collection but which I found in the back of a rack of Matchbox cars at a drug store.

Mini Coopers spark that pure CarWonder in me in the same way that Sapphire Black BMW sparked it in A. No status, no judgment, no feelings of superiority or inferiority, just enjoyment.

Only pure, refreshing what a fun, cool car.

And if you don't get flattened getting there, what a wonderful feeling.


(With thoughts of my friend JT, whose favorite car in the world is a dark green Mini Cooper)

  

The pictured car is part of Mattel's 2009 Matchbox collection in it's Heritage Classics series, number 2 of 11. And I'm really sorry about that "MiniPause" joke.

Week 3: '57 GMC Pickup

 

My kids buggered up my blog plan for this week.

The concept was to be a discussion on the tipping point in one's age when something moves from unexciting to cool. I planned on illustrating it with the Matchbox replica of what I now view as  an incredibly cool vehicle (and Matchbox), this week's entry, the 1957 GMC pickup.

No flames, skulls, or screaming-down-the-road racing looks, just an old-style pickup. The kids won't be impressed, I thought. As a child I wouldn't have been interested, and even though these trucks were still on the road when I was a kid, at least 13 years would span between when that vehicle rolled off the assembly line and me as a seven-yr-old Matchbox/Hot Wheels enthusiast -- it wouldn't even have a new factor to me.

So when I showed my soon-to-be-four-year-old car enthusiast Racer A the truck, I was caught off guard when he said, "That's pretty cool."

"What?" I asked, visibly disappointed.

"That truck is pretty awesome. Can I hold it?"

"No," I muttered, "What's awesome about it?"

I could salvage this yet. Maybe he was only saying it to get his hands on the hands-off vehicle.

"I like the way it looks," A said. "It's cool, Dad. Doesn't look too fast."

AHA, I thought. Now to just get him talking.

"No? You like fast cars, then?"

"Yeah," said A, but then finished the discussion. "It's okay if it isn't fast. I still think that truck is awesome. I like it a whole lot." And Racer A moved off to play.

Okay. So that didn't go as planned, but I would definitely get my point illustration with my fifth grader Z.

                                                                   ...the next day...

"That's a cool truck you bought for this week."

"What? Really?" I asked my ten-year-old son. I couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Yes. I like that it looks old-fashioned. I would enjoy having that truck in real life." (Racer Z tends to talk in complete sentences and use antiquated expressions like "not my cup of tea" so he sounds like he might actually be from the same era as my truck).

"Why do you like it?" I asked. I now just wanted to know.

"I like how it is designed. Also, I bet there are not [Racer Z seldom uses contractions] many of those trucks driving around, so I would look pretty good driving one."

"Huh," I said. "Good point."

"Plus, I like that color."

"You like aquamarine?"

"Yes. I like aquamarine. Good choice, Dad."

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

So, I didn't get my philosophical point on how an aquamarine '57 GMC pickup would be cool to me but not to my kids, but hey, what can I say? Cool is cool... AND my son likes aquamarine.

That's my boy.

 Above is a restored 1963 Ford pickup belonging to Racer Z's grandfather, who also understands the coolness of an old truck. Trust me, if I see a Matchbox of that, I'm snagging it.

Pictured aquamarine pickup number 38 of Matchbox's 2010 collection.

Photograph of Matchbox car courtesy of Andy Bindernagel. Photograph of 1963 Ford pickup courtesy of Grandpa Phil.

Matchbox and Hot Wheels are registered trademarks of Mattel, Inc.

Between post pictorial

I wanted to post these mashups created by Charles Audino (with the car photograph by Andy Bindernagel) for Week 2's entry.

I had told Charles I wanted to do something with the car picture of the Citroën DS that was French.

Below are his efforts that didn't make it into the official entry.