What do these trucks say about me?
“They bring out the kid in me. They mean that I like hobbies you don’t need too much skill to get enjoyment out of. Work is hectic, but these go at walking pace.”
And what they really say
I love the drama of this photograph. Here is Ian, looking manly and rugged, atop a mountain. He is kitted out for yomping across peaks: muddy booted, rain jacketed, all set to conquer the rough terrain… except it’s not him doing the conquering. It’s his ickle remote-controlled trucks. Aw.
Ian’s rock crawlers are the same as an electric train set, laid out in an attic. They’re not all that different from playing Super Mario Kart on a Wii. But because the rock crawlers do their stuff outside, they seem more manly, less nerdy. They’re not though, are they? They’re kids’ playthings. Ian might as well be standing on a peak in a pale blue Elsa dress, singing: “The cold never bothered me anyway.”
Still, getting outside is always a good thing. And children’s pastimes are absorbing – that’s why kids spend so long doing them. The quickest way to forget adult responsibilities is to shortcut your way to a childlike state, and that’s what these rock crawlers do. Trying to get them to climb over a stone is not only engrossing, but it also alters the scale of things. A small distance suddenly seems like a vast domain. Just as it does for a kid.
What these rock crawlers say about Ian is that he’s unwilling to let go of his childish wonder. He’s sticking to messing about outside, losing track of time, trying to make sense of the big world by negotiating small items – dolls, sticks, toy cars – through it. A child’s aims are particular. They make you focus on detail, take you out of your real environment by transforming it into a perilous, adventurous landscape. Nothing wrong with that. Plus, it’s an adult hobby that doesn’t involve going to the gym. I approve.
If you would like Miranda to cast an eye over your favourite possession, email a photograph to magazine@observer.co.uk
