So my mom and I spent the final half of July organizing our garage sales. This meant that we had to go through bin after bin, closet after closet, drawer after drawer, etc. finding things that we hadn't seen in at least a year to sell. For my mom, this meant selling a lot of clothes, decorations, furniture, whatever. For me, I had to sell DVDs, games, books, clothes, but, most of all, toys. In a previous post, I talked about having been an only child meant finding something to occupy my time. Most of these distractions were toys. I must have had 10, 11, 12 BIG bins of toys kept away in our shed. I had never wanted to give these up, hoping to someday give them to my son (I'm having a son, dammit. If I have a daughter I will get rid of her*). But unforeseen financial difficulties (stupid Great Recession) made that hope impractical. We were sitting on a gold mine, and I would have to give up the toys. As I began going through bins, I surprised myself with my lack unwillingness to part with my toys. And this is coming from the guy who shed a tear during Toy Story 3 and was put into a two-day depression after seeing it. A lot of the toys were made from cheap plastic, so they had an unpleasant consistency. Some were put into a pool, bathtub, or sink to play with, so they also had a weird smell. Almost all of them just felt gross because they were kept in a poorly ventilated shed for five + years.
I found many action figures scattered around, mostly Star Wars related. As I sorted through them, I started to feel nostalgic for more innocent days. I'd constantly recreate the duel between Luke and Vader from Empire Strikes Back, or Han Solo blasting away stormtroopers on the Death Star. Those memories would shrink away quickly when throwing a figure into the 50 cent pile, or the $1.00 pile if it was high quality.
The Lego bins were the worst. As I type this, I wish I could say that they were the worst because of all the memories associated with each piece. But no, it was because there were so many damned pieces! And reaching your hand deep into a pile of sharp plastic bits hurts! Sure, as I went through them, I found some vehicles or buildings still together, and would think back to building them, or great adventures I made up that to a child were greater than any epic tale. But, these thoughts were fleeting, and soon I had two bins of assorted Lego bricks. In my house is another pile of Lego minifigures and unopened sets that I'm selling online. As it turns out, there's a good market for these toys. Hell, I just sold a minifigure vampire for almost $20!
Reflecting on this, I realize that all of those feelings of nostalgia were secondary to the here and now. That I'm almost 20, and I have the future to look forward to. Adulthood entertainment and responsibilities are my focus now. The world is a big place, and now I can create my own adventures, without the need for action figures or Legos.
But despite all of this, I still have some Legos stashed away. Don't tell anybody. It's important to still have some childhood enjoyment.
*I kid of course. If I have a daughter I will care for her just as much as a son. Probably.
