Minnesota Musing: Toys for Christmas - Think Again
If you are a stock holder and hold stocks in a major toy supply company, I feel sorry for you. I really do. Maybe I even own stocks in a toy company. You know, with my 401K - I'm just not really aware.
Time will tell.
Meanwhile - How Can We Help?
But meanwhile, if the toy supplier is bankrupt and everyone connected with them is forced to swallow foreclosures, bad shipments, lack of purchases and lack of sales, what happens if all of us pitch in and do a gofundme account for them.
Everyone kick in and either give their time, selling items for them on some sales account, or, make some small purchase to help move the inventory.
Everyone buy their Christmas presents early. Have a special page set up to purchase the inventory. Well, heck, if you don't do Christmas, why not have an unbirthday gift for your favorite person.
I'll send you my address. Smile.
Going out of Business Sale
How many times do you, or have you seen a going out of business sale? A lot. Of course, some businesses seem to have a going out of business sale, and make enough to pay their bills for another month, and the sign stays on the building, open once again for another 30 or 31 days. Sometimes it's only 28 or 29 days, but you get the picture.
Some businesses go out of business for years.
Kids Playing Outside
I remember playing outside. You walked outside and picked up a stick and drew pictures in the dirt. Sometimes, there was another kid and you both wrote in the dirt, making X's and O's in the grid, and if one person managed to get three in a row, you yelled Tick Tack Toe, and of course, you were the winner.
Then, you took your foot and scraped your foot around in the dirt and erased the drawing of the grid. Draw a new grid and you were back playing the game.
The game lasted as long as you were there playing.
Oh, and, yes I did drink out of a garden hose upon occasion. You had to run it for a while to get rid of the hot water that was in it, but eventually the water was cold. Or, the little cup hanging from the hydrant, it was convenient and you used it.
My parents weren't the type to build expensive jungle gyms for us. Dad was a carpenter, but we had trees with branches everywhere. If you reached up and grabbed a branch and pulled yourself up, you could climb that tree fairly well.
Well, let's talk about falling out of trees. I did have a few times that I was up in a tree and the branch broke and I tumbled to the ground. I have not so fond memories of falling out of the tree, hitting the ground and having the wind knocked out of me and not being able to breathe.
Then, some kid that I was with, said that I needed to take hoo hoo breaths until I could work air back into my lungs. I do remember that it was an awful experience. I did manage to start breathing again, but, now as I look back, I feel that I was darn lucky to not die on the spot.
I should have been playing with dolls, but I hated playing with dolls.
My earliest experience or shall we say memory of playing with dolls was Christmas when I was five. I received a Chatty Cathy doll for a gift. I had an older sister who decided to try it out. It had a string in the back and when you pulled it, you heard the doll say a few words.
Well. It took about two pulls and the string broke. Hello, customer service? It's been fifty years, but is my doll under warranty? I doubt that. I do have my original doll and I'm pretty sure the voice still works, I mean after all, I didn't get to hear it. It would be pretty suspicious to find out it did not function. I think it would be okay with a new string.
Markers. Oh yes, markers and dolls. I do have a few dolls that I wrote on their faces with markers. And, I did have one that ended up with peanut butter in the hole in their face. Well, it was hungry, so I thought, so I shared my sandwich with it.
I was a spectacular kid. Smile.
Another memory of a doll was the doll I took with me to the outhouse. In case you don't know, an outhouse is a small, wooden building outside that has a bench inside with a hole in it. You sit on the bench with your naked butt over the hole and proceed to poop. Well. This was a two hole outhouse and I must have dropped my doll in the second hole.
I returned to the house sans doll [I repeat, without my doll] and mom questioned where my doll was. It was, of course, in the hole. It took a bad bounce and was up against the side of the outhouse. Mom, somehow, fished it out, washed it up and gave it back to me.
Really? I mean, I realize that mom's go through that all the time. A little poop on their kid, a few quick wipes and the kid is go to go on their merry way, but, I just wasn't buying it, and that doll was put away, somewhere, never to be seen again. I'm sure it is in the box of dolls and maybe even in the suitcase that the doll clothes were in, but, I don't own it.
I received my Chatty Cathy doll when I was five. I never got to listen to the voice, since someone (not mentioning any names) pulled on the string and the string broke, silencing the doll for the rest of my born days.
About the Chatty Cathy Doll
I still have my doll. It's been in a brown box with my Merlin game, my two Spirograph games, my white fuzzy cat, and my skate key.
I have kept them for all these years. I suppose it's time to get rid of them, but it's the memory that pulls me in and makes me keep all of it.
I do have grandchildren now, and perhaps they would like to play with them.