Childhood is measured out by sounds and smells and sights, before the dark hour of reason grows. ~John Betjeman, Summoned by Bells
Mickey Mouse and Disneyland were never big highlights in my life. Wonder Woman and Bruce Lee, well that’s another story if you know me. I didn’t actually set foot in Disneyland until I was 28 during a vacation with my fiancé in California.
I had a similar 1971 Mickey bank as a child in Massachusetts. I recall that when my dad left the Army for life back in Guam, that bank made it home with me. I can’t tell you when Mickey left my life, but I’m quite sure I had him throughout my grade school years. I remember collecting my coins from chores and birthday gifts into that Mickey. I remember my grandpa on the hard floor and me earning a dollar for walking on his back to relieve his sore muscles (a Guam thing). I would fold each dollar neatly and use smelly masking tape to wrap my cash, wrote the date on the tape and pushed my earnings into the back of Mickey’s head. I recall the smell of the bank’s plastic, the red shirt and green button and his smiling face. So much of that bank reminded me of some 30+ years ago and simpler times.
I was glad to bring home vintage Mickey for $3.99. Considering, this bank goes from $15.00 to $275.00 online; I’m thankful to have found a piece of my childhood.