Not an accurate title, but one should never pass up an opportunity to quote the Pixies. After a hiatus (during which the tooth fairy got a little impatient and ripped out four of my third molars, after which she forgot to leave me any money and in fact charged a small fortune for the inconvenience) I am back to ruminate at length in another T&T&T edition this time on the subject of imagination, or disturbing lack thereof. (Well, maybe not at too much length - t**sday is approaching fast)
Now I am well aware that lamenting the follies of youth is traditionally the prerogative of the old and toothless, but given that in the last fortnight I have turned 25* and lost nearly 10% of my teeth, I feel qualified. So. Imagination. Where'd it go?
About a year ago some friends and I went into a toyshop. We wanted some Lego. Or Mecchano. Or some blocks. What there was, was a heap of Shrek branded thingies and Hulk Fists and Spiderman whotsits. Absolutely nothing in there was a toy in itself. There WAS Lego, yes, but it was all Star Wars kits - AT-AT's and Pods and little weird things from those horrible excuses for films that make up episodes 1-3. Everything had to tell you how to play with it. "This is how fun happens - do what we say and you will have fun."
Where was the magnadoodle? Where was the huge mismatched bucket of lego blocks that you could make into ANYTHING? Why did I have to get past the latest useless schlockbuster to get to the toy?
A retired teacher remarked to me the other day that young children today use the phrase "I'm bored" a lot more often than they used to. This doesn't surprise me one bit. If you can't summarise the fun in the length of a ringtone, no one is prepared to give it the time of day. I'm guilty of the same instant dismissal. I'll gladly dismiss things before I've even seen them. (Big Brother, Australian Idol, almost everything in an Aria chart)
Fortunately, we may live in a time where imaginations are not nurtured and encouraged, but there is a low barrier of entry for those who seek to right the ills of the world. One could choose a vow of silence. One could choose to become a children's entertainer and do something at the grass roots level. One could become The Blogger We All Hate and start a blog to whinge and bitch and moan about the world.
Or, you could get out there and make some cool toys...
Soon, My Pretties, soon....
Damn. T**sday crept up on me again.
* Ok, so that's not OLD, but my generation are meant to have at least 3 complete careers to look forward to, so I must be fairly well advanced through the first one and approaching retirement.