The Toybox

Jul 10 16:09 UTC 2001

You cuddled with it at night to keep those ghosts away (or invite them 
for tea).  

You took it with you to the beach or sandbox to construct glories 
unseen since the pyramids, or dug trenches during lunchtime recess war 
games, usually consisting of boys vs. girls or G. I. Joe vs. Cobra (who 
was stuck playing Lifeline every game?) as opposed to the theme 
of "Democracy vs. Communism" that was bread and butter for the 
political scene during our formative years.  

God forbid anyone suggested playing Carebears.  'Cause 
shouting "Carebear Stare!" at the top of your lungs, sticking your 
chest out and screwing your face up in a look that suggests intense 
strain or concentration just isn't cool, even in the second grade.  And 
if you were to mention that you were trying to send the artfully placed 
symbol on your belly to fight the bad guy would probably get your butt 
whooped.  ESPECIALLY in second grade.  Anytime beyond that people would 
just whisper behind your back and call you crazy.

You found them in your favorite cereal or Cracker Jack boxes, or they 
came already assembled in a tiny swatch of plastic, stowed amongst the 
tasty child-sized portions of French fries and hamburgers.  Whether you 
were able to wait until the box was EMPTY or the meal was finished was 
questionable.

You took it with you everywhere you went, and repeated attempts to 
launder it, replace it or throw it away were met with pouts, the silent 
treatment, temper tantrums, or strategic assaults planned in crayon 
and "scrap paper" filched from your parents' briefcases or printers (or 
even mapped out on the walls of your closet?) to retrieve said loved 
article.

Most of us probably aren't in possession of them anymore, and can only 
remember them via anecdotes older relatives or parents remember only 
when you bring that significant other home during those holidays when 
the caloric value of certain foods are discreetly disregarded (or 
manually wiped from the brain using techniques that made the 
Inquisitors cringe).  

Some of us lucky ones have them tucked away in a corner of our closets 
and lives, ready to be pulled out on a particularly rainy night when 
our imaginary friend stops by after twenty-odd years for a spot of tea 
to talk about the kids--and you haven't had any yet, or to hand down to 
your pride and joy for safekeeping, a gesture that will have you 
beaming with pride (and embarrassing the hell out of them) when you see 
them in that prom dress or adjusting the bow tie on their (oh please, 
let's hope) tasteful tux . . . which scares you have to death because 
it looks oddly enough like your wedding day those many years ago . . . 
or, heaven forbid, reminds you that your offspring will likely have you 
bawling in your tastefully pressed suit or pretty dress on the day or 
THEIR nuptials. But don't start calculating the cost of the reception 
hall just yet.  Maybe they'll elope.

Of course, between putting the loved articles of childhood on your 
bookshelf . . .

to be look at when you pals came over after school to study or (lets 
face it) watch music videos or gush and sigh over the latest teen icon 
to be lured into matrimony ("That tramp!" or "How' the hell did HE get 
her?" being the usual mantra

. . .if they weren't secretly thrown away by your parents(may they live 
forever!) and the joys of parenthood and booting children out of the 
nest, we live freer, relatively interesting lives with fewer depending 
on us . . . We love to drive it or play Doom with it or cook with it, 
or use the things already mentioned in combination with things 
unmentioned to do the unmentionable, but often enjoyable.

What is the point of this Item, I hear you grumbling behind your 
computer screens, sitting at your office  tastefully dressed, or in 
your own how wearing nothing but boxers and a T-shirt . . . and that's 
us ladies!  Yes, ladies and gents there is a point to this lengthy 
diatribe.  "It" is in this Item of course "toys."  Those curious 
articles of diversion and merriment, that are eventually replaced or 
share space and importance with things occasionally more respectable, 
usually more expensive, and always fulfills a need, however 
unconscious, or scratches an itch, however minor.  Everybody had them 
when they were children, and they still do.

So, what's YOUR favorite toy, then and now?

response 2 of 41:

Jul 10 16:56 UTC 2001

a banjo.

response 4 of 41:

Jul 10 22:18 UTC 2001

The only difference between men and boys 
is the price of their toys

Old day toy: atiny little monkey I called 'Kaka' (hey, it doesn't mean the
same in Dutch, in fact, it means nothing). It came along with a Dinky Toy
circus truck and two giraffes called Huuts (brown Huut and White Huut
depending on their color).
My twin and played a lot of fantasy games with them inventing an entire world
based on the sun. Of course Kaka and the Huuts possessed supernatural power
with which they were able to face the evil 'Thiefs' a race of bsad guys.
Unfortunately kaka one day took a swim down the drain pipe of the shower and
never be seen again. I tried to replace him but it didn't feel the same.
Recognize that feeling?

God, this is an embarassing trip down memory lane... a the age of ten twin
and me invented the H'Courier, the Huut periodical. We would write stories
about everything taking place on the sun, illustrated with pictures from
comics. Wekept this up until we were sixteen!

Of course we had other toys, but I guess that Kaka had a special place as he
took such a prominent place in our fantasy play. And this monkey only measured
half and inch, or so.

Today's toys: a computer to write on (another kind of fantasy play) a racing
bike and all the tacky clothes that seem to go with it.

response 6 of 41:

Jul 11 12:52 UTC 2001

Man, that's gotta warp a kid, going to Vegas for High school :)

response 8 of 41:

Jul 11 19:08 UTC 2001

Isn't that illegal?

response 10 of 41:

Jul 12 19:36 UTC 2001

See, there you have it . . . must have been all the neon lights.

response 12 of 41:

Aug 19 01:59 UTC 2001

toys...  I always seemed to be about one step behind my younger brother
when it came to getting toys.  in hindsight, I understand:  I enjoyed
reading more than playing with toys, so my parents bought me the books
and my brother the toys.  I'd have to complain loudly of favoritism if
I ever wanted a toy of my own.

toys I remember?  when Mattel's "Masters Of The Universe" line first
debuted, my brother got both He-Man and Skeletor right away.  I mean
*right* away, when there were only maybe five or six characters,
Battlecat was nonposeable, and Prince Adam was just a nagging thought
waiting to be expressed by some marketing exec.  I complained loudly,
so the next time toys were bought, he got Beastman and *I* got 
Man-At-Arms.

I always tended toward the underdogs and the sidekicks.  my brother
had a zillion Transformers.  me, I was content with Bumblebee.  I remember
playing too roughly with him once and pulling the leg off, and getting
out a screwdriver to put him back together.

these were just two of my favorite toys, the ones that sprung to mind.
well, there were also Legos, but that would take WAY more explanation
than I'm prepared to give.  suffice to say, my brother and I discovered
Legos rather late in childhood, but they greatly captured our imagination
in ways no other toys had.

I haven't seen most of the toys in over a decade.  when I saw my grandmom
last year, she mentioned that they were mostly safe and sound in storage
at her old house.  I don't think I'll ever see them again, "when I became
a man, blah blah blah," but from time to time, I still carry the memory.

aside:  my brother is still into toys, and currently collects wrestling
action figures.  when I lived with him a few years ago, I had great fun
finding the latest and greatest to help add to his collection.  last year,
he bought *me* one.  while not my personal cup of tea, I can say I
appreciated the gesture.

toys currently with me:  the aforementioned wrestling figure (Dark Side
Undertaker, if you must know) and a Snoopy doll who bobs along with the
Peanuts theme when his hand is squeezed.  he's dressed for Halloween,
and usually only sees action then, although occasionally I'll see him and
have the urge to bob along with the piano.

response 14 of 41:

Aug 21 18:52 UTC 2001

The Peanuts!  I loved those little cartoon tykes :)

Currently may favorite toy is my car, and I'm now  attempting to put 
together my computer war chest, because my pc is surely soon to go the 
way of Anne's home computer :)

response 16 of 41:

Aug 22 04:29 UTC 2001

My favorite toy is currently my rapier, which is currently in the hands 
of Chris Barbeau so that he can correct the balance.

response 20 of 41:

Jun 16 05:29 UTC 2002

Transformers and Legos were part of my toy life for a long time, but 
they haven't stuck around forever.  Stuffed toys somehow never went 
away, and even when they stayed with my folks, I married a woman who 
had a teddy bear.  One named Milo, that was there for cuddling-- if we 
weren't there somehow for each other, or just because.

My classical guitar and electronic things (computer, stereo, etc.) are 
currently my toys.

response 22 of 41:

Jun 27 06:10 UTC 2002

Sigh , I threw away all of my Dinky Toys and Corgy Toys.

response 24 of 41:

Jun 27 18:37 UTC 2002

That makes sense.  I don't think most people really have toys after they're
teenagers.  When adults talk about their "toys," usually they mean tools for
their hobbies, or supplies for games.  There's a difference between those and
toys, and I'm trying to put my finger on what it is.  

It's not just age.  Kids have tools and supplies as well as toys.

To me, the word "toy" implies something with a very open-ended purpose.  Maxis
Software called Sim City a "software toy" when it first came out.  That seems
like an appropriate use of the word to me, maybe even the closest thing I can
think of to a toy for grownups.  But even a computer isn't really a toy --
you can run any software you want on it, but you probably don't climb on
yours, or pretend it's a space station, or find another computer for it to
make friends with.

I think also, kids identify with their toys much more than you could possibly
identify with a truck or a guitar or a tool shed.  You express yourself
with an instrument, but you don't treat it as if it had a personality.
When you're mad at someone, you don't pretend your truck is telling them
off.  When you're going stir crazy, you don't decide that your tool shed
is now a magical kingdom where you're going to have adventures.