Typed Thoughts: Little Green Camaros

The old curio cabinet sitting in my home contains a variety of small items for display purposes only. Among these items are a number of die-cast metal cars, some of which have been with me since my youth. One car in particular always stands out in my mind, colored bright green and nearly as old as I am.  It was made by Mattel, one of their initial offerings in their Hot Wheels series of cars. The little green car serves as a great reminder of the ups and downs of my childhood as well as a much simpler time in my life.

Let me rewind things all the way back to 1968 — back then I was a car crazy 6- year-old, just as countless other kids were at that time. My younger brother and I already owned quite a few little die-cast metal cars by then from the likes of Matchbox and others. The two of us created multiple small-scale environments where we would “drive” our little cars both inside and outside of our home. Our greatest such achievement was the series of dirt roads that we constructed in the empty field located just across the street from our house. At the time, that field dropped off quickly from the street level so that gravity alone would propel our cars down the the small roads that we had carefully constructed with this in mind.

1968 is significant because that was the year that Mattel initially struck gold with the first release of their Hot Wheels series of cars. Up until then, kids like me had been more than content with the cars made by Matchbox for example. We had enjoyed countless days playing with such cars. But then Mattel took things to another level with their Hot Wheels featuring brilliant “Spectraflame” paint jobs and custom mag wheels shod with redline-striped tires. These little cars much more closely rim iced the sort of real customized cars we were seeing on the streets here in America at the time. The fact that Hot Wheels are still being sold today speaks volumes about their ongoing popularity.  Yet it is hard to properly describe the impact that Mattel’s new little cars had on kids like me back in 1968 when they first appeared on the scene.

Even though my brother and I already owned plenty of little cars before Hot Wheels same along, the two of us still managed to end up with quite a few of the brilliant cars from Mattel. In fact, even our dad got in on the act, buying one of these cars for himself. That was the only time that he ever bought a toy for himself to the best of my recollection. His car of choice was a “Custom Camaro” finished in the attention-grabbing antifreeze green color, along with a black roof.  This was meant to mimic the black vinyl hardtops that were so popular on real cars back then. Upon knowing that this car was the one that my dad had selected for himself, it immediately became an object of desire tor me. I soon became fixated on working out a deal with my dad.

I imagine that it wasn’t a coincidence that when my dad learned of my fixation with the little green Camaro, he suddenly seemed to take an interest in my blue “Custom Corvette”.  Thus a deal was struck, a straight up swap of his Camaro for my Corvette. The Camaro instantly became one of my most prized possessions.  It would remain so for a very long time. Long after most all of the small cars owned by my brother and I were eventually sold off at the year-round garage sale run by my grandmother and my great aunt, the antifreeze Camaro remained.

As the years passed, the green car would remain one of my most prized items. But things change over time as we all know. Whereas my brother and I played together happily in our younger years, we wound up fighting quite a bit by the time I had become a teenager (just as countless other siblings did and will continue to do so). After a couple of years spent pounding on one another we eventually called a truce when it came to our physical brawls. This in turn led to what the two of us would come to know as our war of revenge. Rather than trying to destroy each other, we resorted to destroying each other’s belongings. After the passing of many decades, I have forgotten all of the details of our revenge war with the exception of how it finally came to an end.

After returning home from school one day I headed back to my bedroom just as I always did so that I could drop off my books at my desk. On this particular afternoon I didn’t quite make it all the way to my desk as my peripheral vision had picked up on something that was not right.To my horror, I immediately figured out what was wrong as I looked at the bookshelf sitting in the corner of my room. There on the shelf where my prized little car would normally sit was a squashed lump of metal and plastic. Though it looked nothing at all like a car (and it never would again), I could easily make out the antifreeze green paint that remained.

I should probably note that the small green Camaro sitting in the curio cabinet of my current home is not the same little car that I owned as a child. My brother had seen to it that there would be no possible way to restore that particular car. Thus ended our great revenge war. After that my heart just wasn’t in it any more. While my brother’s actions might seem a bit harsh, I don’t doubt that I likely deserved it.  We live and we learn, if we’re lucky that is.

Looking back on things, it was actually rather impressive that my brother was able to smash that little car so thoroughly. Though I never forgot about that Hot Wheels car that had originally belonged to my dad, by the time I finally thought about trying to find a matching replacement prices for the original series of these cars made back in 1967 had reached crazy levels. Then maybe a decade or so ago I finally found one that was not trashed and very reasonably priced (by collectible Hot Wheels standards that is), so I bought it. I do not know what the collectors might have objected to as it regards this particular car, though the decals that someone applied at some point might have something to do with the low price I paid. It doesn’t matter to me as I don’t spend my time looking at the car up close.

These days there are a number of topics that are off limits when it comes to the conversations that my brother and I have with one another. Our shared experiences during our younger days is not one of those off limits topics and we can always count on talking about such experiences to bring us some levity. A couple of years ago the little green Camaro came up once again. My brother stlll feels bad about turning that car into a piece of abstract art. Yet I’m well over it. Of course I wish that I still had the original car (pre-squashed that is). But I still have what is most important to me, which are the memories that I carry with me because of that car. I do not require the original car to retain the original memories.

Were my brother to have not destroyed the original car, then I would not have the same set of memories that I do now. Were the original car still intact and still in my possession it would no doubt remind. me of my dad and of my childhood, but it would not remind me of my brother nearly as much. While not all of my memories of my brother are positive ones as it relates to the little green Camaro, that’s how life is in reality. More importantly to me is that I’m reminded that my brother and I were able to work our way past our differences back then. I’m also reminded of the power of forgiveness whenever I look at the replacement car. That is something that I know I can benefit from now and moving forward in life, even if it means simply forgiving myself at times.

AFTERTHOUGHTS: Had I hung on to all of the Hot Wheels cars that I owned as a kid, they would be worth a small fortune these days. In part because I tended to treat my Hot Wheels with great care. (The other makes such as the Matchbox cars didn’t have it quite so well.) Even after playing with them for years, my Hot Wheels all looked pretty much like new by the time that found their way to my Grandmother, where they were eventually sold at her year-round garage sale.