This week's League of Extraordinary Bloggers Assignment: "What is the one item in your collection you would save if your house was being swallowed by a sink hole, carried off in a tornado, and then swept away in a flood."
I've said it before here on Toyriffic and I'll say it again: If I could only hang on to one toy/collectible/piece of childhood ephemera in my collection as the world opened up and tried to swallow me whole I would hop on my bad motor(less) scooter and ride!
The Silver Bullet. My steed. My sidekick. My ride. My Batmobile. My Enterprise. My 'Last of the Interceptors.'
My '78 Schwinn Mag Competition Scrambler. My first bike ever, I got this beauty for Christmas 1980. My Dad worked with a guy who's teenager was selling it, Dad bought it off him and tinkered and polished it up better than new.
I remember peeking down the stairs Christmas Eve night and seeing it by the fireplace.
I remember Christmas day; my first attempt to ride a two-wheeler - Dad letting go of the seat as I drifted straight into his work truck and SLAM! I bounced off and onto the street, leaving a massive dent in the truck's fender...and Dad didn't get mad at me!
I remember riding it to school a mile in the snow - not uphill both ways but close enough to be a badass by today's sissy kid standards.
I remember all the dirt tracks and trails and jumps and curbs and scrapes and scars (still have one or two) from going over the handlebars.
I remember wanting dice valve stem caps and not being able to find any in stores, so Dad took a pair of dice to his drill and voila - and they're still on the bike to this day!
I remember my Dad always saying "Use the kickstand; Don't lay your bike on the ground; take care of your bike and your bike will last you your whole life." And he was right, it has.
I remember hanging my bike up in the rafters when I got my first car, and not taking it down until over a decade later when I needed a project, something good for my body and mind and soul after my first divorce. Dad and I together in the garage, repacking the bearings and replacing the tires and tubes. Polished it up to a beautiful shine. New pedals and a new seat.
Just a little maintenance and the Silver Bullet, like my soul, were good as new once more.
Yeah, things can be replaced. Toys and action figures, no matter how rare or hard to find, are not one of a kind. If they all burned up or melted or were stolen by some thief with awesome taste, I'd get over it. Eventually.
But my Silver Bullet is a part of me. My trusty steed. My friend. And I wouldn't give her up for anything.
And check out a few more from the League:
Lefty Limbo talks about his old school BMX ride too!
Life with Fandom talks about the (and his own) one and only He-Man!
and Branded in the Eighties talks about a very well loved Wicket!