Two bad memories and a similie...

i think i was about 5. maybe younger.

my uncle was proud beyond words. he got his first car.

i don’t know which make or model, but i think this is my earliest bad memory.

he took me with him, cruising along the coast. he was so cool he even let me sit in the front seat-a thing that was of the forbidden realm .

what interested me, was not the open road, or the things that we could see, or even ocassionally curious passing cars.

what interested me more than anything, was the roll up button.

you see, back then, windows were most often crancked up and down down. which was just boring.

me and my uncle shared a fascination with jet fighters. sitting there, i felt my hand on the door handle , thumb on the button, the car speeding, pushong the throttle, ready to engage the Migs...

so i open and close, open and close. my uncle tells me to stop, and i take it as a suggestion-only.

i open and close, open and close.

my uncle askes me again...

open and close..

SLAP!!

we drove to an ice cream parlor, and i never rode shotgun with my uncle again.

---+++++++++++++

i guess i had the bad luck to be born in december. the kindie planned the budget for birthday presents less rationally than you expect. so by my birthday, most of it is gone, swallowed up in parties, and holidays and presents for everyone that cones in that budget years.

so the other guys got widup cars, and robots and stuff. i got a small metal car.

but it does not matter, because i eas in love.

there was a girl in my class called cindy or rachael (versions differ..) and i was trying deseperately to impress her. but she was not an easy person to get on with. she had terrible tantrums, and no patiance at all. and so, that birthday was my big chance!!

so we are sitting in a circle, singing. it is then that i decided to make the greatest, most romantic gesture in my life. i got up, took the little metal car in hand and walked all the way around , to where cindy was sitting. i handed her the car, to the shock and amazement of everyone. i could not say much, and don’t remember if i said anything at all. after saying (or not) what was the reason for my giving my present , i went back to my place, and we started singing again.

which is when the car hit me, with great velocity in the forehead. cindy was a great shot. apparently she saw through me, and didn’t like neither me or the toy. it was tiny but dense enough, to make a hard impact. there was blood, and stitches. and even today, there is a tiny scar. it used to be mostly hidden by my ’fro. but those days are gone. the bay is wide and deep enough for supertankers lay anchor.. only they need to steer clear of the tiny , pesky shoal, that is cindy’s birthday present.