A-ring-a-ding whirr...

Daniel V. Klein © 2004

They were playmates over 40 years ago, and Vic was one happy kid. But they had lost touch with each other over the years. Time took its usual toll, and after numerous moves across a few cities and states, they had just drifted apart, until all they were to the other was a memory.

Vic was 4 years old when he first saw Mac, and he was also three years older. Yet paradoxically, they got on just fine. Vic had begged his mother to buy Mac for him, and at first she refused – Mac was just too darn expensive, and you know how it is with children – today's obsession is tomorrow's yesterday's news. But over the months, Vic continued to plead, and Mom finally relented, but only after Vic fulfilled his promise to learn to read. And although reading was good for it's own sake, it enabled Vic to read Mac's care instructions, which enabled him to take Mac apart and put him back together again.

Mac didn't mind, of course – it was why he had been built in the first place. Mr. Machine – ‘Mac' to his friends – was the bestest toy ever made, and Vic could tear him down and reassemble him blindfolded. And then with a turn of the key, Mac would strut his stuff, a-ring-a-ding whirr.

Dragons live forever, but not so little boys. And one day Mac was put in his box, and didn't come out again. Vic discovered that stereos had more parts to tear down and reassemble, bicycles could take you places, and girls... they were just way too complicated. Mac found a new home somewhere, some friend of Vic's, or maybe he just walked off, a-ring-a-ding whirr, into the sunset.

Dragons are fictional. And although little boys usually grow up, sometimes they keep a little part of their dreams alive. Vic was one of those atavisms. What's the point in being a grownup if you can't act like a kid every now and again?

The Internet is a wonderful thing. For every knick-knack and toy you threw out as a kid, someone else kept it around. And so after over 40 years, Vic found Mac again. Took him out of his box and lovingly reassembled him. Not blindfolded, not yet. And then, with a turn of the key, that old familiar sound from so long ago. A-ring-a-ding whirr...