I think I was 2 years old. My brother wasnt born yet so I was an only child. We lived on the outskirts of Baltimore City, not far from the county, in an old, working class neighborhood. Not bad, but on a busy enough street that you really didn't go out to find other kids to play with. I was obsessed with cars. I loved my Hot Wheels and especially my Matchbox. cars. There were so many cool American cars all with different designs. Fords were distinctly different from Chevys or Pontiacs. I could recognize them all by their shapes.
Of course the oil crisis of '73 came and changed everything. My parents started buying Datsun, Subaru and Audi.
12 miles to the gallon wasn't going to cut it anymore!
But I digress...
I used to sit outside and play with cars for hours by myself. I think I learned to comfortable with my own company back then." Be your own best friend".
I think there is still a lot off that in me today for better or worse ....
Since I loved cars so much, my parents bought me a little Jaguar pedal car. It was a maroonish, dark red. It was plastic but I didn't care. I loved it. It looked great outside in the sunshine.
I had a blast peddling around my Grandmother's property where we lived.
When I was done, I would leave in our yard or driveway.
A couple hours later, I went back outside and noticed my little Jag was gone. I went and got my Mom. We walked all around the yard, checked the garage in case my Grandmother had put away, but no luck.
My Mom took me back inside and told me to stay with Grandmother. At least that's how I remember it. She was going to search the neighborhood. I didn't comprehend why, but mothers know when something is wrong...
Now part of the experience of learning about the world is there are houses that your parents teach you to stay away from....
You know what they look like . The grass and any shrubbery are overgrown , there may be trash and car parts strewn about the yard , etc....
Well, my Mother's search took her to one such house in our neighborhood. She knew some kids that were a little older lived there and the parents were, well, white trash. Rumors of drug use etc...
Her instincts were right.There in the yard with the shit beat out of it was my cherished new Jaguar. They must have taken a baseball bat to it..
My Mom was livid and confronted the apathetic parents who I am sure she tore a new asshole....
I remember looking out the back door as she entered the yard dragging my precious vehicle. There was a huge crack in its hood. The windshield was probably roughed up etc. I just remember that feeling where your face feels flushed and things kind of go black, a feeling of shock. We all know it....
Of course life brings us all far more painful moments: parental separation, rejection from peers, romantic breakups, & even deaths but this was the first letdown of my young life...
I circled my little car to survey the damage. I kept trying with my hands to push the pieces of the cracked hood back together, to no avail. The damage was permanent. I still went onto to play many days with the car but it was never the same.
It was no longer shiny and new nor was I....
I learned that their are people who don't even know you who would violate your property just for kicks.
I learned there were people to stay away from, who you couldn't trust. People with free floating anger who would hate you for no reason. I learned to develop defenses....
Now this is not my "Rosebud" moment, so please don't buy me that plastic Jaguar you see at the Flea Market ;)!
Don't cry for me Argentina....
I would also go on to experience great moments of love, friendship, elation and fun....
Unfortunately ,I would go on to do the same bad thing to a couple of poor bastards' mailboxes.
I now feel really bad that some guy had to spend his Sunday at the hardware store because of stupid teenage behavior, but I'm sure he already knew Life could suck....someone had broken HIS toy a long time ago....
That's a sad story. We've all been there, but you've written about it so well.
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