I remember a time when I was two, about to turn three. I was sitting in my red car. The old type with the back and forth power peddles. When I pumped my plump little legs I could achieve a blistering pace. Almost, almost I could keep up with my dad walking down the street. Oh, blistering pace? If I kept it up my heels would blister. I was always striving to achieve a new land speed record. Never quite making it.
Then one day I equipped my car with a kinetic initiator drive. Wow! Such speed! Of course this kinetic initiator drive, K.I.D. for short, was my best friend and neighbour Ernest Greenwald. He would get behind my little red car and when I said go he would unleash massive power. The peddles by my feet would rattle so fast I would have to keep my feet off of them. I traveled for three hot rods. (For those of you not brought up in with the imperial measurement system that’s about fifteen meters in length.) An impressive distance for a drag race.
Vrooommm!
Of course to be fair we would swap positions so both of us could share the thrill and excitement of high speed racing. Yup, white knuckled driving as we accelerated to almost three miles per hour. Again, that would be five kilometers per hour for the imperially challenged. Simple pleasures for simple times. It also was good practice for my first real car that needed a really big K.I.D. to push start the car.
Now I am older and drive a much better car. Yet sometimes I long for my first love. It just seemed to be so much grander.