Months ago, maybe 2, the announcement was made...to a bunch of 9 year old boys, that the pinewood derby was coming up. Each boy was handed a box with a block of wood, four black plastic wheels, some nails, a paper with instructions and some stickers. My boy, Eddie, brought this box home.
The box was immediately placed in the cupboard. For a very long time. There was some talk about design. Some words exchange between father and son about look and color. There was even a week or two when Eddie could have taken his block of wood to pack meetings and had the opportunity to work on his design. But, who does that? Who uses time wisely? Who takes advantage of adults willing to help? Not this 9 year old. No sir-ree.
Monday comes. The Monday before the race. The race is scheduled for Wednesday night at 7pm. That's three days. Has any work commenced? This is a logical question, of course. I asked this question myself. "We'll be fine." Those were the words Chris told me.
Eddie was almost convinced by his father, I think this was on Sunday, to just put wheels on the rectangular shaped wood piece and call it good. Almost. Eddie decided he wanted to design a shoe car. And that's what happened. Chris' church shoes were brought downstairs and placed upon the kitchen table. Eddie than drew an outline of a shoe onto the wood. And then the block of wood continued to sit, untouched.
But, you know what? Things always work out. The shoe was cut. The shape emerged. The sanding proceeded and progressed. Tuesday night Chris travels to the store to get the paint. White paint. White appliance paint. Eddie sprays the wooden shoe and it's placed into the garage to dry.
It is now Wednesday morning and the shoe isn't quite dry yet. It's actually very sticky. So...I take to placing the hair dryer on the shoe for the entire day. From 8am until 5pm, the hairdryer blows hot air onto the shoe, non stop. And it works. The shoe is dry. The wheels get put on. My brother Conwey is in town for the day, and we decide to go to dinner before the derby.
The box was immediately placed in the cupboard. For a very long time. There was some talk about design. Some words exchange between father and son about look and color. There was even a week or two when Eddie could have taken his block of wood to pack meetings and had the opportunity to work on his design. But, who does that? Who uses time wisely? Who takes advantage of adults willing to help? Not this 9 year old. No sir-ree.
Monday comes. The Monday before the race. The race is scheduled for Wednesday night at 7pm. That's three days. Has any work commenced? This is a logical question, of course. I asked this question myself. "We'll be fine." Those were the words Chris told me.
Eddie was almost convinced by his father, I think this was on Sunday, to just put wheels on the rectangular shaped wood piece and call it good. Almost. Eddie decided he wanted to design a shoe car. And that's what happened. Chris' church shoes were brought downstairs and placed upon the kitchen table. Eddie than drew an outline of a shoe onto the wood. And then the block of wood continued to sit, untouched.
But, you know what? Things always work out. The shoe was cut. The shape emerged. The sanding proceeded and progressed. Tuesday night Chris travels to the store to get the paint. White paint. White appliance paint. Eddie sprays the wooden shoe and it's placed into the garage to dry.
It is now Wednesday morning and the shoe isn't quite dry yet. It's actually very sticky. So...I take to placing the hair dryer on the shoe for the entire day. From 8am until 5pm, the hairdryer blows hot air onto the shoe, non stop. And it works. The shoe is dry. The wheels get put on. My brother Conwey is in town for the day, and we decide to go to dinner before the derby.
This is where the tale gets interesting. We sit at the table, with Conwey next to Eddie. On the specials board at the restaurant is the fried grouper sandwich. Ahh, yea. Eddie is in heaven. He sits there and enjoys his delicious sandwich, a huge smile on his face. Dinner is done and we make it to the Church on time. There are a few test runs of all the cars. Conwey is nervous for Eddie. It's a dad thing I think. He's making sure no one touches Eddie's car. He's giving Eddie sound advice. He makes Eddie stop running his car.
And then the gun sounds and the cars are off. Run after run, Eddie's car reigns supreme. He's the fastest shoe in town. He did it! He won the pinewood derby! And I think he was happy. He didn't seem too excited. I was able to capture one picture of his admiring eyes looking down at his certificate, proclaiming him the winner.
And I think it was the fried grouper sandwich that sealed the deal. And Uncle Conwey of course. So, next year, we'll procrastinate, we'll use sticky paint, we'll race to Boulevard Diner for dinner, order the fried grouper sandwich, Conwey will have flown into town to lend support...and then we'll lose.
That's what we have learned in all the years of Pinewood history. Every boy and every dad will tell their own tales of victory and loss. It really doesn't matter what you do. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn't. But it was fun building the memories.
That's what we have learned in all the years of Pinewood history. Every boy and every dad will tell their own tales of victory and loss. It really doesn't matter what you do. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn't. But it was fun building the memories.
Yeah Eddie!
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