Play Well

The end of my Month of Memories is here...and thankfully, 'cause I've run out of steam. It hasn't helped that the End-of-School-Year Madness has flared up or that I also caught a case of the Here-Comes-Summer-Vacation-All-I-Want-To-Do-Is-Do-Nothings. Both afflictions can be highly contagious so you may want to stand back a little. Don't worry, though, I've been washing my hands regularly and sneezing into my elbow.

When I started planning this month-long blogstravaganza, I had three major posts in mind: soccer/little league sports, Star Wars, and LEGOs. I figured the rest would fall into place and it certainly has, nearly forcing me to forget about the LEGO post.

My parents moved from Texas to Missouri over a year ago, finally finding their retirement cottage on a wooded lot with enough space to house a variety of fruit trees and a quaint, but prosperous, garden. In the move, they hauled several boxes containing remnants of my childhood and handed them over to me as they began unpacking (a process that may never be complete). There were boxes of old trophies, Boy Scout awards, archaic video game systems, sheet music from my days as a clarinetist, my high school letter man's jacket (awarded for academic, not athletic, prowess), my 90s-era key chain collection, and plenty more. The holy grails of the move, though, came in the form of my old toys, the ones not lost to garage sales past.

My parents bought me a blue, pleather, personalized luggage set, probably in the mid 80s. The duffel bag became my action figure carrier, holding the remaining G.I. Joe, Star Wars, and other assorted toys I loved. When I found it amidst my parent's boxes, my heart skipped a beat. When I opened it a caught that familiar whiff of pleather, my heart skipped two. When I ran my hands through the flotsam and jetsam of past toy glories, I passed out. Well, not really, but it was awesome reconnecting with my toys.

The same thing happened when I found the giant Rubbermaid container of LEGO bricks. Almost. When I ran my hands through the bin they came out sticky and dirty compliments of years of storage in the Texas heat, a rogue piece of root beer barrel candy, and remnants of my sister's school diorama projects. Several bathtubs full of LEGOs later, Mini-Me and I were happily building--him following his imagination and me rebuilding the half assembled remains of past spaceships and trucks. 

As I sifted through the bin of bricks, my mind swirled with visions of past cityscapes: police stations, fire houses, mechanic's shops, castles, original structures. My childhood bed was high enough off the floor that, as long as I set architectural limitations within the city ordinances, I could slide my entire city under it for quick clean-up. Have you ever seen an entire city pulled from beneath a bed? It's a sight to behold!

Mini-Me's LEGO interests lie within the Star Wars universe, so the only buildings I've helped him make, so far, are small bases for Mandalorians or Clone Troopers. We mainly have a collection of star fighters that have taken over available shelf and table space. Unfortunately, the beds in the boys' room are too low to the ground to be able to slide the Lego creations under.

The LEGO Group's web page has the following passage in their Company Profile:

The child of the future will have plenty of things to play with. Consumer electronics is a tough competitor to traditional toys. But the LEGO Group is in no doubt that the LEGO brick will continue in the future to be relevant to children of all ages. A world of imagination and total absorption. Putting two LEGO bricks together is intuitive and delivers the spontaneous joy of creation which can be supplemented – but never replaced – by virtual experiences.

Mini-Me, and now The Wubster who's taken an interest recently, picked up the multi-colored bricks and intuitively knew what to do. I'm amazed by their designs, especially Mini-Me (who's two years additional patience is helpful in the building process). These days, I tend to prefer following instructions when building and ultimately completing a model, there's joy in that for me. But Mini-Me and The Wubster build freely, imaginatively.  They use the bricks to create what's in their mind without my adult concern for logic, aerodynamics, or function over form. Mini-Me's creations test the boundaries of physics at times, but they're all wonderful. They've inspired me to create from scratch, a process that is wholly relaxing after a tough day at work. In fact, Rachel has commented on a number of occasions when I've spent hours building after the boys are already in bed.

It's just that the sound of pushing bricks aside to hunt for that one, perfect piece...it's addictive.