Midlife Fantasy Included
Probably the first toy I collected was Hot Wheels.
By the time I was 5 or 6, I had a few dozen of the mini diecast cars, and I’d send them zipping around the red linoleum of our kitchen floor, or winding up the ramps or down the elevator of our prized parking garage.
Looks like, from some quick Google research, that garage was actually for the torso-and-head Fisher-Price “hole” people and their blocky vehicles. So, visionaries that we were, my bro Dan and I kit-bashed it, I suppose, for use with our fleet of Hot Wheels vehicles.
Or whatever you kids of today wanna call it.
The cars I actually got to drive as I grew up carried at least some vintage credit. I learned on a stick, 1984 VW Rabbit. And since my dad was devoted to VW, drove a series of Vanagons to work and school.
Other real-life wheels have been more sober, from my first, used 1986 Toyota Camry (white), to the 1997 Mazda Protege (also white) that mothballed it, and on through Hyundais (four), Escort (one) and a roomy Chrysler Pacifica mini-van.
I did experience the rare sensation of my kids calling me cool — or rather, my ride. They appreciate the zip and red accent lights of my 2021 VW Jetta GLI (as do I), bought during the dwindling days of Covid so the teenagers would have the decommissioned Santa Fe SUV to drive. So, for now, I’ve got that going for me. Which is nice.
The only times I’ve ever experienced the muscle and growl of a Ford Mustang outside of racing games on X-Box has been on two trips West with my wife, when the rental car desk threw us a complimentary upgrade. I’ll admit to a thrill akin to skimming my Hot Wheels around the kitchen as I tooled around Napa in a red hardtop special edition, and cruised into town with the top down in Sedona between our hikes through the red rocks.
I haven’t seriously considered actually purchasing one. Beyond this Christmas Lego set, I mean. It’s one of the Creator sets packed with detail, down to the configuration of the engine, and the ability to change out license plates and spoiler, raise or lower the suspension, and supercharge it with nitrus oxide in the trunk.
Right now, it’s a glorified place to set my glasses while I’m in the shower or sleeping. But woah to the wayward Dad looking to bring their Camaro or Firebird or some other weaker specimen of late century muscle into my neighborhood. Boys, your pink slips are mine. First to the living room, wins!
Ready, Set, Build!
Since we’re digging in to the adult Lego phenomenon, I better raid the archives for all my step-by-step build photos. For your viewing pleasure – the Mustang build, from start to finish.
Dadsense 
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