Can I have a quarter?”
The five-year-old was a cinch to get the quarter he was asking his grandfather
for. Apparently, this was a time of bonding with the two grandsons and grandparents.
Pizza was the food of choice, and there was no need to wonder whose choice.
The boys, although small in stature, ate two slices to one of their grandparents.
“Can I have a quarter?”
The five-year-old was a cinch to get the quarter he was asking his grandfather
for. Apparently, this was a time of bonding with the two grandsons and grandparents.
Pizza was the food of choice, and there was no need to wonder whose choice.
The boys, although small in stature, ate two slices to one of their grandparents.
The pizza gone, the grandsons attention immediately turned to the video
game standing nearby. They examined it carefully, then moved on to examine the
pinball machine. The pinball machine must have looked like a relic of the pastno
blood, no guns, no decapitations, no excitement – just a large steel ball
banging around under a piece of glass, flashing lights and clanging bells.
They went back to the video game.
Actually, the video game is tame. The person who inserts his quarter has the
privilege of driving a virtual car making an escape from pursuing cops. People
and objects hit by the car simply explode – no blood, no glory.
With great predictability, the grandfather handed over the quarter to the younger
grandson.
The next occurrence has to be a Ripleys Believe-It-Or-Not moment. The
older brother who seemed about
10-years-old actually helped his younger and much smaller brother, who seemed
about six-years-old get set up at the controls of the video machine. He pulled
a chair over so his younger sibling could climb into it and then stand on it
to see the screen and grasp the steering wheel. The older brother operated for
his brother the foot accelerator that was far away from the shoe sole of the
younger.
The tyke inserted the quarter and off he went, without really going anywhere.
The scene on the screen was not pretty. The youngster ran over electronic cats,
dogs, women and children and barreled over other cars. He ran the car over the
curb and then sidewalk leaving deep ruts in yards and knocking down bushes and
ruining flowerbeds. Bicycles resting on driveways were smashed and toys left
in the yard were decimated.
As long as the quarter lasted, the scene displayed mayhem and chaos. He only
occasionally drove the car on the street. Lets face it, the kids
inexperience was too much to overcome.
The young driver jerked the steering wheel with the zest of a full-blown road
rage maniac. The older brother said nothing; he just kept the pedal to the metal.
The video machine sounded the end of the great escape. The lad lingered for
a moment, obviously cherishing each second he had just experienced. Then, he
jumped down from the chair so quickly, his older brother hardly had time to
steady him.
He turned to his grandfather and yelled in decibels beyond a jet airline taking
off, “Pop! Pop!” The volume startled even his grandpop, not to mention
20 other diners.
He then ran to his grandfathers side, and got about two inches from his
face and yelled, “I won! I won!”
He was right. His effort was to have fun and actually steer the video auto
and he did it so he won, as far as his desire was concerned.
The tyke was definitely a terrible driver, but in his naivete and inexperience,
he was a great teacherhe understood what much of life is all about after
all. Lots of times we get so caught up in competing with others, we forget the
joy is in the journey, fast or slow, short or long. If you run well the race
God gives you to run and find His joy in running it, you win, you win.