Week 38: Volvo P1800S

In fourth grade I read a fiction book about a Jewish family escaping from Nazi Germany. The title has long since evaporated from my memory pool, although I remember the cover was an illustration done in dark blues and black, and I remember I ordered it from the Tab or Troll Bookclub (where you ordered books by checking boxes on a newsprint flyer and you then waited in anticipation for the weeks to pass so that the teacher would get her big stack of books to pass out to the students).

That book introduced me to new ideas -- this was pre-Internet and cable television. I had never met a Jewish person in my small town upbringing, and if I knew about WWII, I'm sure my understanding was little more than a jumbled mix of unconnected pieces.

That blue-covered book, while written for children and without graphic mention of the actual horrors of that global conflict, nonetheless illustrated the realities of persecution, ethnic struggle and bravery from that time. I suspect the impact was heightened because the characters were children of my own age.

What I do remember of the story is one of the children characters had been well off before the conflict and had told the other character that her parents had owned a Volvo. I had never even heard the name Volvo before that book. I also learned what barbed wire was, after looking it up in my dictionary.

While I don't remember the storyline, for 38 years I've retained the feeling of that book, the sense of injustice, the bonds of friendship between the characters, and the mixture of hope and fear. The story is now more like an abstract painting of colors, or a garden of fragrances, real, but not in a linear, concrete sense.

Odd that I remembered one unimportant line about a Volvo. Maybe I was destined even then to one day write an obscure blog about toy cars, even if blogs didn't exist and the word "blog" would have sounded like a creature from one of the sci-fi books I usually read.

Even with the over-abundance of entertainment for kids today via Internet, gaming, cable and handhelds, I still believe the power of the written word should not be forgotten.

You might not know what part of a book will make an impression, and a child might not remember the ideas you would like, but if you provide children with a range of books and encourage them to read, they might read something of which one day they'll remember one line about a Volvo, retain a vague memory of a book cover, or develop the seeds of understanding that freedom is not free.



This blog is dedicated to the men and women, past and present, who serve, or have served, in the military, allowing myself, you and all our children the glorious freedom to read, smile and be inspired. 


Photograph of my Volvo courtesy of Phil Pekarcik -- my car is the red one.

Week 37: Porsche 911 GT2

Going back some 25 or more years ago, I had stubbornly told myself that I would know I had "made it" when I was driving a black Porsche 911.

I don't feel that way now, and I'm not certain why I selected that particular car (the diecast pictured above is a 911 GT2, which didn't debut until 1994, but the 911 Turbos go back all the way to 1963), but that became my symbol.

In truth, I have generally not been motivated by material possessions and now feel that stuff in general is often more of a burden, but that symbol of the black Porsche 911 failed to acknowledge my lukewarm response to possessions. That was the car I wanted. That was the car that said success.

Over the years the symbol eventually hardened up like a Play Doh pizza to become less of a symbol of what I actually wanted to more of a symbol of what I once wanted, a kind of materialistic caricature (car icature?) of old arbitrary markers of success.

Finding this Hot Wheels car was satisfying to me because while I still love the recognizable European look of the Porsche, I realized I no longer saw success as measurable by what I or anyone else own. Hey, I thought, maybe I have learned a thing or two over the years.

For some reason, having let go of this car as a symbol of success made acquiring its diecast persona even more rewarding -- the enjoyment was pure without feelings of regret, frustration or judgment.

I like that.

Now, my little Hot Wheels is a symbol of symbols, a toy to enjoy but not covet, an understanding of the ebb and flow of material success, a reminder of growth. All that in a shiny little sports car. A shiny little sports car I can hold in my hand.

Now that is a lot of value for $1.07 with tax. Maybe the Porsche 911 was a symbol of success after all.


Photo of my youthful dream car by Phil Pekarcik. Tell me you're not impressed with the reflections.

Week 36: 1967 Dodge Charger

My kids have never actually sat in a muscle car like the 1967 Dodge Charger that inspired the Hot Wheels car above.

I wonder what they would think?

I'm trying to imagine what impression that might deliver to them, the stiff seats, the roomy interior...

...the circles!! 

Would they find the visuals of that dashboard cool, or would they see something outdated?

Maybe it would just be a car -- not an old car, but just a car.

They would have to find the exterior cool, wouldn't they? That must be somewhat universal, like drippy type is universal for scary.

Because the focus in my household is on conservation and sustainability, maybe they would only see something that would be fuel inefficient.

I was four when that car rolled off the assembly lines. I wonder if  my four year old will think about these things concerning today's new cars when he reaches my age?

Will there be any 1967 Dodge Chargers around when my kids are adults?

Have you guessed I've been thinking about the passage of time and about how things hold up, improve or become outdated?

I am.

Coincidentally, I was looking at my invite today for my 30th high school reunion.

When that Charger came out, I was four, just like my son. Now, 30 years have gone by since I left high school. I don't remember being four.

Maybe 30 year reunions do this to everyone, I don't know.

Whatever the case, the 1967 Dodge Charger was a great looking car.

And look, it's still cool.

Even if it is younger than me.


Hot Wheels picture courtesy of Phil Pekarcik.


Interior shot of 1967 Dodge Charger taken from the web site Serious Wheels (http://www.seriouswheels.com), photo image credit Christian Heuer.

Week 35: '63 Cadillac Ambulance

This little diecast is particularly hip looking, part of Matchbox's 2010 Emergency Response collection. I like looking at it, the styling, the red/white with gold stripe colors, the clear siren light on top. This is a favorite.

But I almost didn't use it for Daddy's Tiny Cars.

The idea of using an ambulance for a thematically driven blog about family unnerved me. I realize things that require a ride in an ambulance are all around me, peaking in through darkened windows in my consciousness until I pull the shades on them, but I don't generally want to acknowledge their existence. 

Every time one of my kids gets sick, or takes a decent fall, I age, and my kids get sick once in awhile and fall a lot. 

Once in awhile + a lot = a whole bunch.

I age a whole bunch.

And now I'm talking about aging, and again, I don't want to think about aging and ambulances. Zip. I pull the shade.

Now I could act like the ambulance was not being used as an ambulance, like the Cadillac ambulance that the Ghost Busters drove (that was a 1959 Cadillac), but this one says "Ambulance" on the top.

No, it is clearly an ambulance. A 1963 ambulance. I was born in 1963.

I'm not sure the connection there, but it seems ominous. 

If I did have an accident myself, it might be cool in a surreal way to be zipped away in a 1963 Cadillac. I might not, however, appreciate it, depending on the circumstances, but I'd like to think I would. Regardless, my being picked up by a 1963 Cadillac Ambulance after an accident is unlikely.

The truth is, we get sick, accidents happen, emergencies are part of life, and we try to keep the thoughts of these realities out of our minds to the best of our abilities when they are not occurring to us and our loved ones. I'm okay with that.

I guess those unpleasant realities don't need to be denied any more than they should be a center of attention. They just are. You can worry about what might happen or dwell on what did happen, or you can look for the tail fins, siren light and gold stripes in life. 

I suspect that is probably a better way to live. 

Photo of my birth-year Caddie ambulance courtesy of Phil Pekarcik.

Week 34: Myers Manx

I officially welcome the first dune buggy to Daddy's Tiny Cars, a lil' replica of a Myers Manx. Consider it my offering to warm and dry weather.

Rain has been falling for nearly two weeks where I live in Ohio (as well as elsewhere in the U.S. as many communities wrestle with flooding rivers), and while the temperature had warmed, it is down to chilly again.

My kids don't really mind the rain, but walking on the lawn right now is like  walking on a giant sponge, and sooner or later the mud will take its toll charge of one rain boot, leaving my four year old yelling for help while balancing on one leg, white-socked foot swaying over the muck.

Not that the rain boots help - socks always come back into the house wet and muddy, even if not pulled off by the mud. The truth is, rain boots for kids aren't designed to protect against water. They are strictly designed to increase the cute factor of toddlers. Purely for show.

I have matured over the years to accept puddle splashing. Why matured instead of grown more youthful? Because I don't want to splash in them myself (that would be growing more youthful), but I have grown to understand that if children are physically able, then they are incapable of not splashing in a puddle. 

I move out of the way and let it be, sometimes even smiling. (A forced smile is nonetheless a smile.)

So as I write this the rain splashes outside, a toy crashes inside, and I think of warm sand, 70s reverb beach music and a fast little dune buggy cresting a hill.

Photo of my summertime ride courtesy of Phil Pekarcik.

This car part of the 2010 Hot Wheels Race World collection.

Trivia: Steve McQueen drove a modified Myers Manx with co-star Faye Dunaway in one of my all-time favorite movies, 1968's Thomas Crown Affair. The original script allegedly called for a Jeep in the scene but was changed to a Myers Manx at McQueen's urging.