Friday, January 25, 2013

The Hot Wheel That Broke My Heart

The first car I can remember my family having was a lime green Chevy Vega. Probably a 1973. I remember this car more clearly than cars I've actually owned as a result because I have an uncle who is six foot and nine inches tall and it was an exercise in comedy watching him try to get into that car. 

It's odd the things you remember and the things that will traumatize a four year old boy. For me one of the lingering traumas of my childhood was when I lost my pink Hot Wheel in the crevice behind the back seat of this car. I remember the car being a super shiny magenta with a bubble hood and it reminded me of the Jetsons. In my little boy brain it seemed more like a flying saucer than a car. Maybe I didn't even cry when it disappeared into that seemingly irretrievable void behind the seat. Maybe I did and no one thought enough to look for it. Either way I lamented the loss of that toy my entire life. Until three years ago when I saw...

The 1968 Beatnik Bandit. That was it. The thing that was lost forever, found again. Needless to say I bought it straightaway, but I did more than that. I bought myself the entire 


The original 16 Hot Wheels from 1968. Reclaiming lost aspects of your past is a very important component in Gestalt Therapy. Unfinished business. The Hot Wheels I played with as a boy aren't as old as these, but it's nice to start somewhere, and the beginning is often a good place. I have a goal to own one of every redline Hot Wheel ever made eventually. Maybe that's overkill, but it feels good to get this far down the road and be at peace with things. 

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