Kid Fears

The RM was in Memphis with my parents all last week while JHP and I tore up his high school reunion on in Houston. Because the Higdons are a selfish, cold people they actually expected me to take her back so I (very) reluctantly picked her up yesterday. We met for the prisoner exchange at the halfway point between Atlanta and Memphis, which is unofficially the snazzy new Love's truck stop in Jasper, Alabama. It has a fancy food court, TWO different claw machine games and a wide selection of what I am assured is the only smart choice when it comes to customized fuel tank covers for my big rig. It also has what is the greatest personal affront to the RM on the planet, something that turns her tiny little heart icy with terror and has her crying out in her sleep - that doomsday machine of Cthulu, the Dyson Airblade hand dryer. She hates that thing with a passion I haven't felt since Hitler's whore Kay Bailey Hutchison called me "girl" and kicked me out of the public Senate subway car.

it really should apologize for all that trouble it's been responsible for in the Middle East. Not to mention Dick Fuld, and cancer

 

The fear is strong enough that every time we even drive past the Love's on the interstate she feels the need to reassure everyone "WE ARE NOT GOING TO STOP THERE NO WE DON'T NEED TO VISIT THAT DYSON WE CAN GO TO ANOTHER PLACE OKAY SURE". I've even used it as a tool of discipline - if she's acting up in public for example I've found that the best thing to do is tell her that if she doesn't zip it I'm going to show her the Love's dryer I conveniently have right here in my pocket; that almost always shuts that shit down right away, not to mention convinces me that she's a real dumbass when it comes to spatial issues.

 

We can't really figure out why she's so afraid of the Dyson brand in particular; it's no noisier than any other hand dryer or lawn mower or countless other loud things that don't bother her at all. Perhaps she just fears progressive British industrial design. In any case it got me thinking about stuff that really freaked me out as a kid, and I have concluded that I was way smarter than the RM because I wasn't afraid of anything that was nearly that silly. What kept me up at night were threats that were totally obvious on the global level, like the Hamburglar and quicksand. Quicksand, as anyone around my age knows, was the hazardous darling of the 70's - I could barely turn on a "Bionic Woman" or "Gilligan's Island" without being reminded of its lethality. And it could turn up anywhere! You just never knew! You could be all la-di-dah playing fort in the yard but one wrong step later, your sister gets your room.

 

 

I think this was the back of the playground at school

 



As for the Hamburglar - what a dick. I never understood why he kept stealing when Ronald was sincerely happy to just give him as many burgers as he wanted. Pure misanthropy (I guess it's no coincidence he was a product of the Nixon era). And what does "robble robble" even mean? All that furtive muttering and darting around! Now my palms are sweaty. See? WAY worse than a Dyson dryer.

 

I'm glad my kids have such a rational mother to help them navigate the terrors of childhood. Or at least add to them.