By Joe Hobby
Growing up, I didn’t have any fancy-schmancy electronic toys that kids have today. That’s OK. I had some neat stuff that – gasp! – didn’t even require batteries. Things like a Daisy BB gun, a Mousetrap game, Silly Putty, a Slinky, a Man From UNCLE gun, cap pistols, Duncan Yo-Yos, Case pocket knives, Frisbees, and a bike that Dad bought at Sears. About the only thing I wanted that I never got was Lawn Darts. That’s because my parents thought I would turn them into weapons. And they were right. By the way, who even came up with this idea? At some product development meeting, did a toy executive stand up and say, “Hey! What if we make giant steel-tipped darts that kids can throw in the air?” And everyone else said,” Yeah!”
Joe Hobby, Tribune Columnist
As I look back on my childhood, there is one toy that I would’ve really liked: the Big Wheel. Oh, how I would have loved to glide down our driveway and cut that front wheel to do a 360-degree turn! Of course, the reason I never had one is that they didn’t come out until 1969. That was the year I got my driver’s license, and then my main focus became seeing how much rubber I could burn off the tires of my Mom’s 1967 Plymouth Fury.
Growing up, a pedal tractor was the only thing remotely comparable to the Big Wheel. I got one when I was about five years old. It was typical of toys from the late fifties, American-made with thick gauge metal, nothing like the cheap Chinese stuff you see today. It had a single seat, a steering wheel, and a gear shift lever that, once engaged, made the tractor emit a puttering sound when you pedaled. The body had an intricately painted replica of an engine on both sides. White rims and knobby rubber tires contrasted sharply with the bright red paint job. A lot of thought and workmanship went into its creation.
I loved that toy. In the summertime, I washed it frequently. I cleaned that tractor like a teenage boy cleaned his Dad’s car before he took it on a date. I rode it down the hill in our front yard so many times that there was a groove in the grass. When I broke my foot, I ruined two plaster casts because I discovered that dragging them on the driveway was an excellent way to slow the tractor down. Upon setting it a third time, the doctor threatened to break my other foot if I did it again. He was joking – I think.
But little boys don’t last forever, and neither do their toys. And so, in time, my three-wheeled buddy ended up in the corner of our basement – unused, unmoved, and unloved. By the grace of the toy gods, it somehow never made it to the Goodwill pile. Unlike most of my toys, the tractor outlasted my childhood.
When I grew up and bought my first house, my Mom decided it would be a good time to have a home transplant. That’s a procedure when every possession you’ve left in your parent’s basement is transplanted back to you. And that is how my old toy tractor ended up in my basement.
Years passed. On occasion, my wife would walk past it, then come upstairs and say, “Why are we still hanging on to that old thing? It has no use at all.”
And I’d say, “You know, that describes me, and you keep me around.”
She replied, “That’s because at least you’re good for lawn maintenance and basic home repair.”
Sometimes I wish I could give her to Goodwill.
However, my opinion of the tractor began to change when I discovered the prices they were fetching online. I thought, “Well, it is just collecting dust in my basement. Why not sell it to a collector and pocket some cash? Otherwise, my kids will probably donate it to a thrift store when I’m gone, where somebody else will buy it and make a big profit.”
I decided to clean it up, oil the moving parts, and see how it looked. Like most 63-year-olds, it had a few bumps and scrapes, adding to its charm. Patina, as they say. It was time to put it on e Bay.
But distant childhood memories still had a firm hold on me. I just couldn’t bring myself to list it.
I guess the reason I couldn’t get rid of the tractor is the same reason I can’t delete my Mom’s contact information from my phone. In my mind, I would be removing much more than a name, address, and phone number. Likewise, with my tractor, there are so many memories from my youth imprinted in it that selling it would feel like I’m giving them away.
Fortunately, Pinterest provided me with a solution to my dilemma. I took the tractor out of the basement and displayed it on our front porch. Depending on the season you drive by my house, you can see the proud old toy flanked with pots of colorful flowers in the summer, pumpkins and hay bales in the fall, and even Santa around Christmas.
And on occasion, I will let my granddaughters ride it down the driveway if I am there to supervise. After all, it has no brakes, and none of them have a cast on their foot to slow it down.
Find more of Joe’s stories on his blog: https://mylifeasahobby.blogspot.com/?m=1. Also, follow him on Facebook at Joe Hobby Comedian- Writer.
