Plastic model cars. joneworlds@mailbox.org I don't fully remember where I learned what bits I know about building plastic models. Probably reading, as it's a hobby that's solitary to me. I once had some friends who did this too, but we never really talked about it back then. But anyways, I can write down some thoughts and tips I have, and maybe gradually more as they occur to me. Way back, I used to race in slot car clubs. It was fun to hang out and the racing was exciting, but I think I enjoyed tinkering with the little cars and painting their bodies just as much. And so after I quit all that, I started building stationary plastic model car kits instead. I built this wooden box with a lid, to keep safe all my tools and paints and scraps and bits and stuff. It's made of thin plywood pieces and has a small baseboard molding around the lid edges so that it fits nicely around sides. Sanded and stained a clear golden sort of color. Working on model cars was a thing I could do at home, in the few free minutes I could find here and there. I could go as slow as I felt like. That was important when we had the baby. The funny thing about going slow at a thing like this, working in bits and pieces where you can, is that it's still not slow enough. When you work in bits here and there, you want to do something, even just a bit, but planning doesn't feel like a thing. And so somethings you do things in an order that's harder, because you're working through disconnected little packets of time and you forget the bigger picture. Maybe that's just me, but it's still something that's hard. I did a kit of an 80's chevy, and a 50s chevy, and an austin mini. I would finish one, keep it a few months, and then I would throw it in the garbage. Some people keep their work forever. Not me. I don't want a shelf of dusty stuff what's all done. It's the process that I enjoy. I started in on a big rig. But then we had another baby, and I put my box away and I stopped taking it out. For some years, I always told myself it was because there was no time. But now I'm not so sure about that. There's going to be 15 minutes, some days. But you get tired, or you find other stuff to fill that. Pulling out that box of stuff even to paint just one little part, that's a habit I can make. I had it once, and I can have it again. To me, building a plastic model car is like a coloring book, one of those paint-by-numbers deals. But it's not on a page, it's 3-D. It's sure a lot less pressure to color something that's already figured out, than to sit in front of a blank canvas or a chunk of wood. Not too many things in life are like: follow these here instructions carefully and you'll get a decent result. But building a model kit is kind of like that. Maybe that's why I like doing it. That kind of narrowness, it's a nice change of pace. Miniatures have always been fascinating to me for whatever reason. It can't be that unusual. Dioramas. Vehicles. Animals. Figurines. Snow globes. Toys. One time in a big museum, I saw all these little clay people someone made, hundreds or thousands of years ago in south america. I guess there's always been people who like this stuff. I wish I could one day be one of those oldsters with the whole-room train set. But that needs some serious money. And time. And skills. And a room. I lack most of these. But I can still do what I do, and I like it just fine. I have space for a box. I like doing cars the best. I'm not a car buff, not really, although I do enjoy a good looking car or truck. Or even a bad looking one, maybe those even more so. You know, I don't even much like driving real cars, and I'm not that good at it. I try to avoid it, and I think that's made me even worse. But my situation and my family's needs have always pushed me into driving at least to some degree. And you know people sure can get sore at those of us with limited skills, in something they're so very polished at themselves. It's like they don't remember what it's like to be shaky and slow at a thing, and there's just no grace. I don't really do philosophy, and I don't know it. But one time I heard of this idea of a simulacrum. A model car must be a simulacrum in the sense that it is an reproduction, a representation of something real, and it becomes something of its own. But then there is this idea of a simulacrum as something "hyperreal". It makes my head hurt when I try to read what that word means. Best I can gather is that it means a representation of something, but that something never existed in the first place. And so maybe if I change a model a whole lot, so that it does not look like a real car that ever existed, that's a hyperreal simulacrum? Like if I took huge truck wheels and put them on a hatchback, chopped the roof, and added a big blower to it. I'm building a model of wild hot-rod, but only as a plastic model: the never was such a hot rod made in the real world. It would be a model of a thing that never existed. But I know for some people, model can stand in for something important to them, something they feel strongly about. You know, whether it's a good thing or a bad thing, vehicles are about everywhere in the places where I've ever lived. Where there's people, there's cars. It's like houses, or fences. In the most basic stories and patterns of life, when you boil them down to their bones, there's a beginning, a middle and an end. And there's often a journey. You go someplace, a thing happens, and then you go home changed. And that going, and the coming home, unless the story is quite old then that part's often got a vehicle in it. Whatever happened, whoever that happened with, however that made you feel, all that real stuff is going on right up next to a vehicle, in some sense. And maybe that's why people get feelings from about cars. Because the car was right there too, and maybe some of that emotion gets tied up with it. It's sort of like a song that you heard playing at that time when everything changed for you, but even now so long afterwards, it still makes you well up just a tick when you hear it. But me, I don't feel that strongly about any particular vehicle. Not really. I do like the way some look, and I'm bound hear a note of nostalgia from certain kinds. Even as a kid, I noticed cars. But it's not like that thing where someone goes to war and serves in some kind of tank or whatever for years, and had all kinds of experiences in that rig. Or if they spent years rebuilding their grandfather's truck with care and dedication, and later when they build a plastic model of it, every piece feels like a familiar piece of themselves too. I don't think I have that bond with any vehicle. I wonder what that's like. In my kit building box, there's a few tools and things that are essential, to me. And I'll write those here in case it ever helps someone else get started. Probably I do some stuff badly, or there's better ways and tools to be had. But I feel comfortable with the bits I have now and the results I get from them, however limited that may be. I'm not looking for the next thing, I just want to do more of the thing I know. There's my exacto knife and extra blades. For cutting parts off the frames, and slicing off rough edges. And I also stick it inside the small holes and turn it around, to scrape paint off the insides before cementing parts together. I have a few files. The one I use the most is this little metal flat file, about 1 mm wide. That's good for scraping things I need to glue together, because glue won't stuck so well to paint or chrome plating. For glue, I use testors model cement. I use the kids kind in a blue tube, the non-toxic kind, not the usual orange tube. The real stuff is strong as hell, but smells nasty and the fumes are really bad for you, even it says so. The kid stuff isn't nearly as strong, but I that never bothered me. And like I say, I throw my finished stuff away after a few months anyways. The non-toxic stuff even smells good, like grapefruit juice or something. My whole box smells of this by now. I think because the glue uses citric acid instead of whatever solvent is in the stronger stuff. I got my cans of toothpicks. The round kind with points on both ends. I always squeeze a tiny bit of glue out onto a piece of scrap cardboard or paper, and then spread it on the plastic piece with one of those toothpicks. And they say you ought to clean your plastic pieces with some dish detergent before you even start a model, to help the glue and paint bind better. I got various paintbrushes. Tiny ones, and bigger ones. I try to get good ones, and I try to look after them. I only use water-based acrylics, and that sure makes the clean-up easier. Oil enamels go on smooth, but them and the thinners sure stink. And there's a few pairs of tweezers. I bought a pack of various kinds somewhere years ago. Sometimes these are helpful for laying on the water-slide decals, or picking up and assembling the really small bits. I keep this empty tin can in my box, one of those little tomato paste ones. I put a drop of dish detergent in there with some warm water and that's how I wash my brushes, swish them all around in there and then rinse with plenty of clear water. For paints, Vallejo acrylics are my favorites. They go on so nicely with a brush. Although I think I might try switching to much cheaper dollar-store acrylic tubes. They might be good enough. I am not that picky, and I'm not into the real-world-accurate colors thing. And I sure don't want to bother with an airbrush, even though that's the way you get the super-nice results. Vallejo has matte/satin/gloss varnish or finish coats too. I brush that on over top of the paint when it dries. The Vallejo paints come in these round eyedropper bottles. I can shake them up to stir them before using, but I can also roll them fast between my two palms. I even used to hold the end of the cap in the chuck of an electric drill, and spin them that way. But that might have been a little much. I use this little plastic paint mixing palette. It's like a dish with small round indentations around it for putting paint into. Squeeze a few drops in there and start painting. I received as a gift, these tubs of paint. They are a bit thick, so a bit of Vallejo thinner helps. But just like the Vallejo paint they are full of pigment and they self-level after putting them on, and I am happy with them. I also got this scraper thing. Can't remember where I got it from. It's like a little flat-blade screwdriver with a bent end. I like it for scraping paint off flat surfaces when that's needed. Although the files and even the knife are often better for this. You got to have some rags. I keep pieces of ripped t-shirt in my box. I used to paint everything on the frames, then cut and assemble. But now I'm trying to cut & glue some parts together, then paint. What's better probably depends on the situation. It takes some planning. Model car kits for sure don't make good toys for kids when done, as most of them aren't even on rolling wheels, and there's way too many fragile bits. Although I guess you could modify one to be a toy, if you put on some toy car axles and wheels, strip off the all the tiny pieces, and glue the doors and hood shut. I remember one time in my slot car racing days, I found a 1/32 plastic kit in some store. I Cut the bottom out to put in a guide in the front and built a sort of rough chassis out of square brass tube and hot glue. Somehow got a motor and gear set to sit on that, and it actually ran. But you know, I think toy cars in general are quite good toys for kids, regardless of how I feel about real cars. They're one piece. They roll on the floor, and they fit under your hand. Pretty durable. And cars are a thing most kids see every day in their world. It's funny how even now there's so much farm imagery in their books and shows like it's still 1924 and three quarters of them live on farms. But most kids nowadays for sure see more cars than cows day in and out. And then there's the whole story-telling piece in kids' play, the beginning-middle-end thing again. Do you know that kind of play is a developmental indicator that experts look for in little kids? And you can put your doll in a car, and they can go wherever you imagine. Go someplace far in the car. There's so much possibility for play in there. I remember there was some www bulletin board about model cars that I used to read on. And for sure it's cool to see others' work. And I think I picked up a magazine or two from some newsstand or other. The sense I got, is that having the colors correct for the year and make is very important to some people. Maybe especially for the military vehicle fans. There's certainly that attention-to-detail aspect which I admire, but I just can't get too excited about that. Part of me wants to even color things strangely just to be different. I'm like, anti-correct. If I had the time and money, I'd do two builds of the same kit, one straight, and one wacky. There's my hyperreal simulacrum urge again. Or maybe I should just focus on buying the same model kit again and again and again, building it differently every time. But that feels a bit narrow, even for me.