Jimspeak

When I was but a lad my parents made the mistake of buying little plastic cars (alternative to a big wheel) that you sat in and with your feet you pushed on metal levers to motorate around. These were the real deal-it was like sitting in a convertible for kids-it had non-doors a nose and tail and everything! Having a patio/basketball court provided a perfect Rink of Death for my friends and me. 'Demolition Derby', we called it.

(Dilbert is on tv right now. They are talking about how a cold keeps getting passed around their cube-land. Hm, even though I am losing my mind from this solitary confinement, at least I am not in a cubicle!!)

Back to the story. These cars were great, though there isn't a chance in hell that they could be sold in today's world of 'someone should pay me for being a damned idiot and getting hurt'. It needn't be said that these cars did not last long (if my parents didn't know how they got destroyed so quickly, they do now. Oops). We slammed into each other at top speed and delighted in the neck jarring impact and cracking plastic.

As the number of participants grew, some were forced to participate on their big wheels (they did not come out ahead, much like a motorcycle taking on a full-body car. As the cars died, we graduated to bicycles. The game soon petered out. Crashes were more spectacular it's true, but it wasn't a fair fight.

Yes, I am still alive. Somehow. Don't worry, my ideas are getting safer by the day. I swear!