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Speak, Minotaur!

Guilt
Mom Tree Wiener
When I was younger and not so aware of manipulative advertising, I was entranced by an ad for some slot cars. This was during the saturation period leading up to December, and I was led to drool by the high-energy images of the kids gaping excitedly as their little cars raced around the twisting track, whizzing past obstacles and, of course, crashing spectacularly.

This particular set was special in that the cars could change lanes, thus opening up a whole world of action: passing, cutting off, slalom... Wow. I was so enthralled with the possibilities that I took an unusual step that year and asked Mom for the set for Hannukah.

When Hannukah arrived, Mom brought out a gigantic package. I knew it was the racing set. Before she gave it to me, though, she said, "You know, this was a very expensive present. I hope you're going to play with it for a long time..." Fear seeped into my heart. But, I reasoned to myself, the lane-changing...I can think of all sorts of games to play with that...

I unpacked the set and got it going. The cars seemed to move a bit slower than in the ad, and the track was a pretty simple oval. The much-touted lane-changing was not quite as responsive as I'd imagined, and any sort of accurate swerving was out of the question. The cars also quickly developed grooves in their pick-ups which further hindered changing lanes.

I played with it for a few weeks, probably longer than I would have if Mom hadn't said anything, and then it was put away, never to come out again.

Chez Zeus: Speak, Minotaur!: Station No. 22

Last modified: Thu Mar 31 16:14:13 2005
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