

Hot Bird
Using just the tip of a Crayola crayon which we would cut off with scissors and smooth the edges of, we created our "baseball." From there, we picked the team we would play as and set up our bedroom with outfield walls until we had the best possible playing field. It was fun right up until we had to decide who was going to win or lose. Ultimately, there were heated endings to these games which left one of us fuming until the next game. These games took on a few interesting looks when we played games in the girls' room, the backyard, or the Family Room. Anyhow, we had a blast.

Used for more than just mere coloring.

PALM BEACH
Perhaps the greatest player in our car baseball league was a Hot Wheels car (GMC Motor Home) which Casey and I named Palm Beach (see the side of the car?). He hit home runs like Babe Ruth on steroids. He was the gang's enforcer and unquestioned leader. To put it simply, he was "The Man."
In fact, I'm pretty sure that our escapades after a ball game led to my parents confiscating our collection of cars one afternoon. And they were gone for months with Casey and I having no clue of their whereabouts. We must have somehow redeemed ourselves, or simply forced our parents to give in, because one afternoon my mom revealed to us the secret location of our collection: the back corner of her closet. We lost it. There was a jubilant celebration that afternoon as we played and played with those cars. We named that day - December 28, 1984 - PALM DAY - after you-know-who and every year since have remembered it. This year will be the 25th anniversary of that magical day, in fact!
When we finished a ball game, or a rumble, or even a football game with our cars, they were put away into a cardboard box. This we called the Lava Pit, and don't ask me why. From time to time, we assembled our cars - every single last one of them - into some kind of massive conference. I can't even remember what the point of it was, other than to say that our cars - hundreds of them - would be lined up over the entire length of the floor of our bedroom. This ancient Matchbox dump truck that we called "The Father of All Cars" was at the head of the conference of cars. I imagine there might have been religious overtones even within our car universe. It was definitely complicated.
And don't even have me start on the time Casey and I discovered a Hot Wheels car (Formula One) in our backyard, buried in the dirt by our plum tree. Oh, the stories we made up about the horrible plane crash he survived. We made the TV program "Lost" years ahead of its time.
Anyhow, I thought I would thoroughly embarrass myself and share my childhood memories of playing with cars. It's fun to see how much enjoyment Will has with cars! Maybe one day we can resurrect our baseball league of old.
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