I loved talking with Tommy, the neighbors six year old. He had his own perspective on the world, and it was not tainted by what other people thought.
One time, we talked about cars and trucks, because he was driving his battery powered car around his backyard, and the topic came up.
“Cool looking car, Tommy.”
He stopped driving, and sat in the seat a moment. “Nah.”
He pointed at the hood. “It’s a Chevy.”
“Chevy’s aren’t cool.”
I wondered what he meant. “I own a Chevy, you know.”
“I know.” He waved his hands, like he was swatting at flies, but no flies were around. “But you have to own a car, so you can get places. That’s OK.”
I was curious, “What’s wrong with Chevys?”
“They’re look ugly.” He pointed at his toy car. “Like this one.”
“Yeah. Especially the fronts.” He got up, walked to the front of his car, pointed at the grill, “that big gold thing in the middle. The way the holes are cut out around it. And the lights.” He looked at me, put his hands on his hips, “Ugly.”
“A lot of people think they look good.”
Tommy was certain of what he said. “Nope. They’re ugly.”
I’m pretty sure I looked completely lost, so he started to explain. “They make them look like people want them to look. Bulky. Like trucks, and vans, and those tall station wagons.”
“Sport Utility Vehicles?”
“Yeah. Those.” Tommy shook his head. “And they deliberately make trucks and those other things ugly.”
“Yeah. ‘Cause that makes people think they’re tougher.” He put his hands on his temples, and scrunched his eyes, like he always did when he was thinking hard, “Daddy says it makes them look more manly.” He shook his head, “Whatever that means.”
“It means they look big, and strong, and tough. Like they can take it.”
“Yeah. It means they make them ugly.” Tommy proudly declared. “Like those big fat men on the Lowlympics that pick up the big weights.” His hands found their way back to his hips. “Ugly.”
“Well,” I began to explain. “They sure sell plenty of them if they’re ugly.”
“Of course they sell lots of them.” Tommy grinned, like he was going to tell me a secret. “It’s ’cause people are brain dead.”
“What?” I hadn’t seen that one coming. A six year old calling people brain dead.
“Yep. Brain dead.”
“Why do you say that?”
He laughed so hard he fell over on the grass, “‘Cause they’ll buy what the TV commercials tell them to buy, silly!”
“And the TV commercials tell them to buy ugly cars and trucks?”
“Yep.” He sat up, “Daddy calls it abvertiesning. Or something like that. He said it tells brain dead people what to buy, so they don’t have to think about it for themselves.”
Oh, the things Little Tommy had to say about life. I never will forget his understanding of the world.
It’s April 2nd, the second day of the A to Z Challenge for 2016. Only 24 more letters to write stories for this month.
Please, go explore the A to Z Challenge, and the sites of others who are participating in this adventure.