Only limited time to be here today, because, well, the title says it all.

Although unless you are somehow in the know - and you couldn't possibly be - it doesn't say much.

For now, this predicate to something I will want to write about when things get a bit less hectic this week:

Get out your nostalgia goggles, dust them off . . .

And stay tuned.

Update:

Let's see; where was I?

I didn't play with soldiers like that when I was a kid because they came on their own little platforms, in order to be able, at least some of the time, to stand and deliver, and the fixed position of their feet simply eliminated any possibility of verisimilitude for me.

I'm pretty sure I didn't know that word at the time, but I certainly knew what my imagination required, and those soldiers, for all of their action-ness, didn't provide it. They were not, as we said back then, life-like.

That said, this guy had what it took:

One of my best buddies in pre-adolescence, and we enjoyed hours of action together, much of it on the floor - off the edge of the carpeting - under the sewing machine in a window alcove just behind the dining room table.

I cannot believe that after more than three score years have passed, I was able to find him among the endless files of Google Images. But there he was.

Together again at last!

He was rubber, not plastic, and although we frequently played together without his motorcycle, which he was molded to fit on, ass in the seat, hands on the handlebars, his resulting awkwardness without his wheels was somehow never a problem.

I'm going to say that together with his rig, he cost something like 39 cents in our local Woolworth's. Interesting to see that someone out there was willing to bid about $80.00 to bring him back into their lives, for whatever reason, and I'm willing to think that there's a story there worth knowing, at least to me, although one I'm unlikely ever to know.

I never thought of him as a cop, although I guess he was, wearing appropriate headgear for such an occupation, and a uniform of sorts, but I guess I was able to look past that, as well. Good thing, too, because in our shared adventures, it was not a role I particularly wanted him or needed him to play.

Just a friend to a kid in need at the time, and a most welcome friend at that.

Go figure . . .

If you can.

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