Boring Cars
Feb. 28th, 2004 08:27 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mishalakA Pointless Story
Like most boys machines and cars fascinated me. I collected "Hot Wheels" the little toy cars that are about six centimeters long. My favorite ones were always the older models, particularly cars from the 1950s and 60s. But while I thought them pretty cars also became more and more a bane of my existence. I had to help my dad work on our vehicles. He would regularly tune the family vehicles and starting when I was about five I helped him as much as a boy could.
At first I was often fascinated by taking whatever it was apart and learning how it worked. About fifteen minutes later I'd be bored out of my skull. Hold this, hand me that, my attention wandered. Particularly when I was young I had the attention span of a gnat. So while watching the timing light work was neat for a little while I'd want to wander off at that point, and I imagine I became much less useful to my dad.
As I grew up working on the family vehicles became an occasional chore for a warm day. Get out and change the oil with my dad. Lots of waiting then scurry around for whatever part or tool. This shaped my later opinion of cars as not particularly interesting. By the time I was a teen cars were a tool to get one to a destination and I no longer wanted a pretty car. Though if I had way too much money I might get a slightly more stylish car it just doesn't fit in my lifestyle even if I was making good money. Cars bore me.
Like most boys machines and cars fascinated me. I collected "Hot Wheels" the little toy cars that are about six centimeters long. My favorite ones were always the older models, particularly cars from the 1950s and 60s. But while I thought them pretty cars also became more and more a bane of my existence. I had to help my dad work on our vehicles. He would regularly tune the family vehicles and starting when I was about five I helped him as much as a boy could.
At first I was often fascinated by taking whatever it was apart and learning how it worked. About fifteen minutes later I'd be bored out of my skull. Hold this, hand me that, my attention wandered. Particularly when I was young I had the attention span of a gnat. So while watching the timing light work was neat for a little while I'd want to wander off at that point, and I imagine I became much less useful to my dad.
As I grew up working on the family vehicles became an occasional chore for a warm day. Get out and change the oil with my dad. Lots of waiting then scurry around for whatever part or tool. This shaped my later opinion of cars as not particularly interesting. By the time I was a teen cars were a tool to get one to a destination and I no longer wanted a pretty car. Though if I had way too much money I might get a slightly more stylish car it just doesn't fit in my lifestyle even if I was making good money. Cars bore me.