In the spirit of Verry Merry May, this will be a simple entry, the crux of which is to bring some discussion about how the mind of a child operates. And not just any child, but the child who was you. You know, when you were a child.
I highly doubt I’m the only one who had a special toy or two. Did you have a toy that you simply could not part with when you were a kid? That toy which, looking back at it now, may seem silly, but regardless held your love and your interest captive without effort? If so, what was it? If not, what the heck is wrong with you?!? I’m talking young kid here, not ten or twelve, but like… six, or three, or something.
OK, I’ll start. First, a tragedy. There was a toy (whose name I cannot recall! Help?), and it came out sometime around 1985 or 1986, I think. It was like an Etch-a-Sketch in that it was hand-held and somewhat flat, but the drawings were done pixel-by-pixel, and the idea was that you would create “frames” and then make very pixelated, short little animations with it. They showed an animation of a cheetah running, and a boy hitting a baseball, and possibly some other stuff. And I wanted one so badly for Christmas or my birthday or one of those other days when kids all around the world suddenly deserve toys. Well… I didn’t get one. Never did. And I still remember that to this day. Cry a tear for me, I’m scarred for life. Watch out Greg Boyd, your red airplane has nothing on me.
Of course I did have some toys that I loved that I still remember. We had this old wooden toy box with an ugly green plaid rough-feeling cover on it, and I had all my treasures in there. Little Sesame Street cars, somewhat like this one that had Ernie and Bert and Cookie Monster and Big Bird in them, and you could roll them around and fill in the blanks with your imagination. We’ve still got those around somewhere. There was some kind of jack-in-the-box that I loved. But it wasn’t a regular jack-in-the-box (although we had/have one of those). It was smaller, and I don’t remember what it looked like. (We’re going way back into the subconscious here, people.) But you could push a button and something would open up and pop out. I don’t know.
G.I. Joes with parachutes were cool. You could throw them way up and watch them float down. Model rockets (with dad’s help, of course) were a blast. I remember the little cardboard fuel tubes that came with the little wire thingies you’d stick in the end and wire back to the ignition button. I remember how the used ones would smell.
Oh… this oughta damage me if nothing else does: I also liked Rainbow Brite for a period of a month or two when I was six and in the hospital on bedrest with an injured eye that was bleeding internally. I insisted that I be allowed to buy one of the dolls, and my parents were like, “Are you sure you want one of these dolls, hon?” And I was. So I got one. Then a couple months later I was like, “What the heck am I doing?” and I got rid of it. I have no idea where it came from.
Alright. None of you can have anything worse than that. Time to share. Out with it! I demand that you reminisce! It better be fondly! FONDLY!