Stick it to em.

November 8, 2008
I was listening to the radio a couple of days ago and heard a report of an item inducted into the Toy Hall of Fame. Wow, how do you decide what toy should be in this hall of fame? Just think back of all of the great toys in your life, your children’s life or even as recent as your grandchildren’s life. I mean sheesh, there are whole stores dedicated to just toys, to say nothing of toy sections at the big department stores. Combine these with the internet and there is no shortage of getting those little darlings inside vegetating in front of or with some mind numbing toy. What a great way to keep them out of the way while you go about your daily activities.
My mother had a different approach toward me and my three brothers during those young formative years. It most often went something like this. Mother would say "you boys go outside and play" we would respond "ahhh, there’s nothing to do!" At this point mother would return our complaint with a phrase that we had heard so many times you would think it should have been permanently imbedded in our psyche. But alas these four boys needed this daily refresher of the way things are. Mother would say "you go find something to do or I’ll find something for you to do!" This command by mother would often be followed up by mother calling one or the other of us (whoever went out the door last) "Buddy (example) you come back here and open and shut that door ten times until you learn how to close doors without slamming them!" Of course being the second oldest and biggest of the boys I would let mother know my feelings toward the whole process by saying "yes ma’am."
So there we were four boy’s outside ready to conquer the world of play. And what do you think was our toy of choice? Now you need to understand here, we are not yet into the computer age so Game Boy was 45 or so years away. This letter will probably be read by some who do not even know who Pac Man is so let me try to put things in perspective. Home computers were not yet on the scene. Nor were there calculators. As a matter of fact we didn’t even have dial phones. You picked up the phone and a live operator would respond "OPERATOR" at which time you would inform her of the three digit number you were calling such as "223" and if the line wasn’t busy you could talk to your party. Of course you were on a party line meaning three to five people shared the same phone line so if any of them were on the phone you had to wait. But I digress.
Needless to say, by today’s standards these four waifs were extremely abused, ejected from the shelter of their own home and standing in the broiling sun with not even a bicycle to fight over. So what might they do to survive? The one toy they had an abundance of was that very same toy that would fifty some odd years later be inducted into the "Toy Hall of Fame" a stick. Not your super animated, high tech, solar powered ninja toy. Just a stick. Maybe a reasonably straight limb that had fallen from one of the eucalyptus trees in the yard or a highly prized, old broom or mop handle or perhaps an old lath from one of the deteriorating buildings nearby. But from wherever it came, it became a magical and prized toy for a young boy of the day. The transformer toys prized by kids today pale by comparison to a stick. With some of my sticks I have been transformed from a dirty faced little boy into the Lone Ranger riding my great white horse Silver and fighting the black hatted bad guys (my brothers) riding their own sticks. I might even find a chicken feather, stick it into a string headband and be Tonto (the Lone Rangers faithful Indian companion) for the day. I would even have my turn as the bad guy. Fights among the motley cast of characters would often break out as to who would get what role. The set director (Mother) would often settle the issue with "take turns."
Imagine this, a group of boys running around the yard with the stick between their legs dragging on the ground behind them pointing fingers at one another yelling bang your dead! Today if a young boy pointed his finger at someone in school a yelled "bang" he would be expelled. But this stick was not just a horse. No siree. That stick could just as well become a sword in the hands of Zorro a Sabre jet beneath a Army Air Force fighting ace or about anything the imagination could conjure. But most of all that stick was hours and hours exercising not only the bodies but the imaginations of four young boys in the 1950's of Southern California.
I just wonder who nominated that stick for induction into the Toy Hall of Fame? Was it The Lone Ranger? Was it his faithful companion Tonto? Was it Zorro? Or was it one of the bad guys? Whoever it was I would like to put down my guns, get off my horse Silver and shake his hand.
Bud