A beautiful made-to-order day begged me to take a stroll with a smile to the harbor. It’s a mere block away, but other daily duties and demands kept me too otherwise occupied to meander there for even a brief respite. Today was different.
I hadn’t taken but a few steps from my driveway when I noticed a small child riding a tricycle on the edge of the street. Accompanying her appeared to be her father who, under a watchful eye, carefully guided her toward the side of the street preventing her from errantly making her way into the empty street.
I doubled up my pace in order to catch up to these adventurers to make acquaintance with these unknown likely unfamiliar newcomers. Its wasn’t difficult to reach them as their combined mobility resembled a turtle-like pace.
Traffic was non-existent, as usual. But something unusual caught my attention. Although both apparently having a fun time, it was difficult to ignore the little girl was wearing a helmet. Back when I was a young child, a fellow elementary school student was cursed to wear a helmet to protect him in case of a seizure and subsequent fall.
I never witnessed Larry in the throes of a medical emergency at school, but the possibility was always present. Recalling Larry, following an exchange of names and our respective living quarters, I desperately avoided mentioning little Marilyn’s headgear to avoid an awkward situation for all of us.
In any case, after a few polite remarks between us, they went their way while I headed in the opposite direction. My walk was relatively brief, and took mere minutes. Nonetheless, I had a tough time feeling pity for Marilyn. Oh, the humanity.
After spending a short 20-minutes on a bench at the wooden pier, I headed back to resume duties and finish some business when I met a long-time neighbor. We swapped pleasantries at which time young Marilyn’s name popped up.
I was ruing her being forced to wear that cranial protective device to protect any brain damage when my neighbor interrupted. Evidently, I read too much into what I witnessed – all of which was erroneous. It seems as though Marilyn likely has no known spastic issues; the helmet was to protect her in case of a tricycle mishap. Period.
Feeling relieved, my neighbor and I parted ways, heading home.
This is not the end of this tale, but rather the beginning. I, too, had a tricycle when I was Marilyn’s age, progressing to a scooter, then a small bicycle, a skateboard, eventually a few larger bicycles, and lastly an English racing bike all for fun and transportation. None of which required me to wear a helmet for protection.
Realistically, somewhere along the way, guvment became involved likely due to prodding by parents who wanted their kids ‘protected’ from all dangers in life. Through seemingly countless ‘awareness’ campaigns, guvment buttinskis relish in regularly demanding newly-fashioned rules and regulations be imposed on others against their will – all in the name of safety.
As a child, my parents introduced me and my sister to learning through educational toys and books. But just because toys were educational didn’t mean they were boring.
Mattel happens to be the apex of toy manufacturers marketing everything from Barbie dolls to Hot Wheels cars.
For generations, kids have been subjected to having wonderful times which created equally terrific memories that often last a lifetime.
At age eight, Santa brought our household something Mattel called Vac-U-Form. It was a metal box that plugged into an electrical wall socket to heat up a cast aluminum plate. Plates were supplied designed for both boys and girls, so that both sexes could easily be burned on this modified hotplate.
It came with several plates along with small plastic sheets that, when used in conjunction with one another, would be able to form a homemade toy. And they were great because we made them by ourselves without too much adult supervision.
Fortunately, we never visited the emergency room for injuries related to this magical box. Pressing their luck, two-years later, Mattel gave America some new dangerous toy called Thing Maker from which were crafted rubbery icky bugs and critters to make most girls grimace.
Using the same electricity-to-heat process as with the Vac-U-Form, both these contraptions needed more supplies in order to manufacture these fun objects. The continuing marketing came from buying new molds, plastic sheets, and – as with Thing Maker – a liquid substance that also ran out needing replacement.
As I recall, these were some of the best educational gifts Santa delivered. Alas, they are long gone relegated to the dust bin of minor history. Still, although both were highly dangerous, we weren’t forced to wear asbestos gloves and aprons, respirators, special boots, or safety glasses. We merely had fun.
Recalling Marilyn and her helmet, evoked sympathy from me. I hope she was experiencing merriment nonetheless.
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