I transferred some video footage today that could have come from my own family archives. It was a VHS tape that contained previously transferred footage from old 8mm film. It was a Christmas video and the kids were enjoying all their new toys.

Two brothers were intently focused on “knocking the block off” their opponent as they played with their “Rock-em, Sock-em Robots.” I had one of those. But I didn’t have a brother and my sisters were too into Barbies to have any interest in my cool game. It is hard to enjoy a robot boxing game without another player operating the other robot.

And then the scene shifted to the brothers playing with their new slot car race track. Even at 62 years of age, my envy kicked in. I always wanted a slot car race track. I remember one year, it was the only thing on my Christmas list. I asked Santa for it. I cut out ads for it. I circled in red the pages where it appeared in the toy catalogues. I was sure I was going to get it.

That Christmas morning, I sprang from my bed and waited like a crouching predator for the go sign from the parents. I rushed to the Christmas tree expecting to find a slot car race track all set up and ready to go. But no.

Maybe I was too eager and my parents knew I would waste all my free time playing with the track. Maybe it was too expensive and my parents thought it would be better to feed and clothe me. Whatever the reason, my slot car race track was not there.

What was there was a lame substitute. Some stupid battery operated car chase game where you couldn’t control the speed of the cars. All you could do was flip a lever on the track to make the car change direction and then just sit there and watch as it chugged its way around its track. I was bored with it before I even started playing with it. I don’t even remember what its name was.

I’m sure I did not hide my disappointment. It is hard to admit but I may have been a bit of a snot as a child. And for that I do apologize. In retrospect, I probably did not need a slot car race track as badly as I thought back then. Still, deep down inside I know… it would have been a lot of fun to have.

Michael Ondrasik and Home Video Studio specialize in the preservation of family memories through the digitalization of film, videotapes, audio tapes, photos and slides. For more information, call 352-735-8550 or visit www.homevideostudio.com/mtd.