Boys will be boys …
You see it all sometimes
Right before your eyes
He’s tossed and turned all night long, dreaming of his perfect plaything
He wakes singularly focused and sleeps singularly focused
There is something that has consumed him
Something that belongs to him
Something that has captured his every thought
Hours and hours are spent in contemplation
Day dreaming and envisioning
Picturing it in his mind
Considering all the ways it can be physically manipulated
To make it faster, quicker
To make it scream louder as he drives it down the road
To make it purr smoother
Make it’s responses more agile
Make it look the way he’s envisioned it
All the while making it distinctively his own
Making it do things for him that no others can do
Between his eyes and fingertips he has found his most intimate partner
He knows what tightening or loosening every nut and bolt will do.
He wasn’t designed to just enjoy something as is, it was perfect the day he got it
Perfectly the same as everyone else’s
Parked in a row, no one would know which one is his
No one can pass it on the road and automatically know who it belongs to
No one can hear it in the distance and know that he is the owner
Ideally it could be parked anywhere and all who pass by knows who it belongs to
But the greatest joys are personal
It will go places for him that the others cannot go
He’s built it to do so
It will move in ways others cannot move
It will go faster and farther than anyone else’s
All in response to him and the things he does to it
It’s his
All his
And it will do things for him that no others could do
No one can ride it like he does, he’s taken the time and effort to know what makes it run best
Every intimate detail of its structure and form
Exacting amounts of fuel and air, tire pressures
Together they are a beauty to behold in symmetry
Both dependent upon one another to exist at all
What good is his skill with nowhere to apply it
What difference would it make to a machine he doesn’t even own
The idea that men grow up and put away their toys is a fallacy
A fallacy propagated by the fact that most have tried to turn this screw or that, giving up on the prospect of ownership when their manipulations fail
Giving up on the idea of ever really making it their own
Instead they run into phrases like “you’re trying to make me something that I’m not”, which kills both his intent and vision.
Imagine a truck saying “nope, I’m not putting on bigger tires, if that’s what you really want then you should just go buy one that already has them”.
Or a motorcycle saying “no way, you are not going to open up my carburetor and poke around in there. I’m not like those kinds of motorcycles”
Point missed entirely
Had he wanted a monster truck he would have bought a monster truck, but that’s not what he wanted …
He wanted his truck to be his monster…the one that becomes so for him.
If had wanted a racing motorcycle he would have bought one, but no, he wanted to release the racer in is own …
It’s not that a man wants to make anything like anyone else’s, it’s in his nature to make it his own.
It’s in his nature to make it as he envisions it … to look like his. It’s in his nature to take it apart and to build it back better, to make it his own.
His plaything
His playtoy
One that is what it is or becomes what it is because of him …
There is nothing more satisfying or secure to a man than to know he sees what he sees, feels what he feels, hears what he hears all in response to him. To see the hours of contemplation, the intimate time expended on familiarizing and removing every nut and bolt, only to put them back …but with the knowledge of
To see it and feel it respond in ways that it otherwise never would or could
It’s his
And he knows it’s his because he knows it’s every nuance
He knows it’s his because he knows no one else could ever drive it that way
He knows it’s his because it’s been customized for only him
It fits him, it suits him, and it looks, sounds, and runs the way it does because it’s his
It does things for him that are impossible for it to do for any other
Yeah I know my ideas aren’t popular
They grow less popular by the day
You can take the boy away from his nature
You can take him so far that he no longer recognizes it
But you’ll never take my nature from me
Right before your eyes
He’s tossed and turned all night long, dreaming of his perfect plaything
He wakes singularly focused and sleeps singularly focused
There is something that has consumed him
Something that belongs to him
Something that has captured his every thought
Hours and hours are spent in contemplation
Day dreaming and envisioning
Picturing it in his mind
Considering all the ways it can be physically manipulated
To make it faster, quicker
To make it scream louder as he drives it down the road
To make it purr smoother
Make it’s responses more agile
Make it look the way he’s envisioned it
All the while making it distinctively his own
Making it do things for him that no others can do
Between his eyes and fingertips he has found his most intimate partner
He knows what tightening or loosening every nut and bolt will do.
He wasn’t designed to just enjoy something as is, it was perfect the day he got it
Perfectly the same as everyone else’s
Parked in a row, no one would know which one is his
No one can pass it on the road and automatically know who it belongs to
No one can hear it in the distance and know that he is the owner
Ideally it could be parked anywhere and all who pass by knows who it belongs to
But the greatest joys are personal
It will go places for him that the others cannot go
He’s built it to do so
It will move in ways others cannot move
It will go faster and farther than anyone else’s
All in response to him and the things he does to it
It’s his
All his
And it will do things for him that no others could do
No one can ride it like he does, he’s taken the time and effort to know what makes it run best
Every intimate detail of its structure and form
Exacting amounts of fuel and air, tire pressures
Together they are a beauty to behold in symmetry
Both dependent upon one another to exist at all
What good is his skill with nowhere to apply it
What difference would it make to a machine he doesn’t even own
The idea that men grow up and put away their toys is a fallacy
A fallacy propagated by the fact that most have tried to turn this screw or that, giving up on the prospect of ownership when their manipulations fail
Giving up on the idea of ever really making it their own
Instead they run into phrases like “you’re trying to make me something that I’m not”, which kills both his intent and vision.
Imagine a truck saying “nope, I’m not putting on bigger tires, if that’s what you really want then you should just go buy one that already has them”.
Or a motorcycle saying “no way, you are not going to open up my carburetor and poke around in there. I’m not like those kinds of motorcycles”
Point missed entirely
Had he wanted a monster truck he would have bought a monster truck, but that’s not what he wanted …
He wanted his truck to be his monster…the one that becomes so for him.
If had wanted a racing motorcycle he would have bought one, but no, he wanted to release the racer in is own …
It’s not that a man wants to make anything like anyone else’s, it’s in his nature to make it his own.
It’s in his nature to make it as he envisions it … to look like his. It’s in his nature to take it apart and to build it back better, to make it his own.
His plaything
His playtoy
One that is what it is or becomes what it is because of him …
There is nothing more satisfying or secure to a man than to know he sees what he sees, feels what he feels, hears what he hears all in response to him. To see the hours of contemplation, the intimate time expended on familiarizing and removing every nut and bolt, only to put them back …but with the knowledge of
To see it and feel it respond in ways that it otherwise never would or could
It’s his
And he knows it’s his because he knows it’s every nuance
He knows it’s his because he knows no one else could ever drive it that way
He knows it’s his because it’s been customized for only him
It fits him, it suits him, and it looks, sounds, and runs the way it does because it’s his
It does things for him that are impossible for it to do for any other
Yeah I know my ideas aren’t popular
They grow less popular by the day
You can take the boy away from his nature
You can take him so far that he no longer recognizes it
But you’ll never take my nature from me
