I've been doing a lot of thinking (...head...hurt) about
what's so *darn fun about chasing after little die cast car toys.  Certainly I'm not alone in experiencing frustration in the shark pool that finding new Hot Wheels has become.  And its not limited to just toy cars.  If you've ventured into action figures, comics, sports cards,  Barbies, or those gawdforsaken Beanie things, you've encountered the same thing: its not just a kids toy anymore, but a Collectors Item. 

Has it always been like that?  My memory isn't as good as it used to be.  Its pretty selective, and often confuses nostalgia with reality. But in my experiences as a child, I don't recall having to fight grown-ups for Hot Wheels in the K-Mart toy aisle (My Dad might tell a different story).  No, when I look at my old Hot Wheels (and some of my new ones), I see times and places and people. 

So let’s set the Wayback Machine to 1965, and we’ll hit some events that have made Arv the person he is today:

February 12, 1965 - I was born  (Hey, its a key event in MY book!)

1969-1970 - Mt Clemen’s, MI:  My uncle's Rat Fink models; his Deora and loop track. (Several years later, he would give me all his accumulated track and cars);  My cousin’s big Johnny Lightning oval.  THAT was
impressive.  And Grumpa always had a hot Lincoln.

1970-1977 - (This is where I was destined to be a Hot Wheel fanatic) Indianapolis Indiana:  1117 Adirondack Ct, West Glen Village, 10th St and Raceway Rd.  Every year, the Summernationals would come to Indy.  This is back before major roads existed for the high volume of traffic that the drags brought.  So when the races were over, the trucks and trailers loaded with exotic rods would be lined up forever RIGHT IN FRONT OF WHERE I LIVED!!!!!!! My friends and I would sit there all evening and watch the parade.  And every time we’d come home with literally thousands of stickers from them.   Key events/things:   Yellow and Black Banana Seat bike; SSP’s (chrome rail dragster and exploding VW Bug); GI Joe (whose heads were all eventually
smashed); Indy 500 time trials (and puking on way too much cotton candy); Motocross races (pre stadium stuff, where you could really get run over by the bikes!); playing with my new RASH1 at the Indy Fairgrounds
sprint car races; the Christmas morning I got up and Santa had put a giant twisting HW track all around the tree; The Christmas I got a mini bike; the Christmas I wanted the black with flames Super Van HW and got it (found out later Dad did some road tripping to find that one.  Still have it, too); sneaking coins from around
the house, until I saved enough for a vinyl HW carry case, then getting busted when Dad figured it out, and took it away (and all my cars I’d put in it) for a little while...*bad guy; waking up early Saturday mornings and running my HW down the track in my room, jumping them into the wall and getting griped at by Dad for waking him up;  getting into a fight with my best friend and each of
us throwing each others HW out into the tall grass, never to be found again; Farbs;  Scorchers;  reading CarToons Magazine; anybody else remember UHF?; staying up all night with Dad watching Sci-Fi movies and building models; the day I freaked out at Sears (or maybe Penny’s) when I found the HW Factory, and my Mom bought it on the spot, along with extra wheels and
plastic (One of my most beloved toys.  She doctored many a blister from the hot plastic that sometimes oozed onto my fingers). 

An interesting point worth noting here is that I recollect
those times as some of the best in my life.  It wasn’t until I was an adult that I realized  these were the worst of times for my parents financially.  They were at the bottom
of the barrel, with my Dad still recovering from injuries
sustained when the UH-1C gunship he piloted was shot down over Vietnam, and the Army was of no help (what else is new).  Through all this, and with loving help from my grandparents, they never once burdened me with reality.  I was blissfully unaware of these problems, and had the time of my life. 

1977-1979 - Cleveland OH:  Brunswick, to be exact.  Still buying HW, but redlines went away.  And Star Wars came along, destined to consume my attention for years to come. 

Key Event:  Preparing to move to California by U-Haul, we had our big garage sale.  I figured I’d outgrown HW, and put everything I owned but the cars into a big box (I had MILES of track and accessories), and some old guy said he’d by the whole box for $10.  What a fool I was!!!!!!!  I just hope some kid somewhere got as much out of it as I did.

1979-1984 - Riverside California: Hey, I'm going to High
School now!  No time for toys.  I bought maybe 5 HW over this time, all Real Riders.  Had real cars to play with now...

1984-1990 - Citizen of the Earth: The Army moves me around a lot, and I didn’t look at a single HW.  Got married though, and had a son in 1989.  HE would have Hot Wheels, I said.

1990-Present - Had a girl in 1992, and already the floor was littered with all the toys I wanted (for my son, of course).  They are currently 5 and 8, and have miles of track, and almost hundreds of cars (she prefers purple or pink, and wants to own a VW Beetle when she grows up);  I have been on the collecting roller coaster since unearthing what was left of my once proud HW collection from my folks house.  I've settled down a lot recently.

Key Events: Actually finding Treasure Hunts on the pegs in Germany; lying my way into Germany’s biggest trade show for toys (I was with the “HW Collectors Club of America”) and scoping the new stuff; getting a care
package from Trish while I was in Bosnia, and the looks on peoples faces as I gleefully pulled out stacks of Hot Wheels!; meeting Trish & Dennis while road tripping; and
just recently, finding the Hot Seat with my kids and having a great laugh.

Is there a point to all this?  If there was, I lost it a while ago.  But I plan to do with my kids what my parents did with me.  Let them have the time of their life, while they still can, before reality creeps in and steals their
innocence. 

And the ones they don't get to play with?  Yeah, I buy more than my fair share of those *darn little cars just for me.  Only about half of them get opened. The other half wind up in boxes due to lack of display space (the wife
reeeeaaally wants the living room plastered with Hot Wheels. Not that it would get in the way of her BARBIES!!!!!!!)  But every time I find one I like, be it at the store or from a friend, I don't see dollar signs.  I see
memories.  Like the kind I'm building right now with the
friends I'm making and the children I'm raising. 

So there.

Big Arv