Imagine That

I saw paper dolls at a used bookstore the other day.

They weren't vintage or anything. But they did spark a series of flashbacks.

I played with a lot of paper dolls back in the day. And their hipper, stickier offshoot, Colorforms.

Hours and hours were spent dreaming up scenarios for my paper (and plastic) pals. For the paper variety, the dolls, their wardrobe and accessories had to be painstakingly cut from a book, taking care not to cut off the tabs that held their duds in place. If the doll was printed on paper, it was also necessary to find a piece of cardboard to glue her to so she could stand up.

There were also kits that included backdrops and props as well as characters, so you could set up a whole diorama. My mom bought a set to keep in the attic at my grandmother's house. When we got whiny and bored, she'd send us up to the attic to play with Popeye and Olive Oyl and Bluto/Brutus.

Colorforms came mostly ready to roll. You had to remove the parts from a pre-pressed sheet of plastic. I had Willy the Weatherman. My sister had Miss Cookie's Kitchen. I'm sure my other siblings had their variations, too, although I can't picture them now. I can, however, remember the feel and the smell of the plastic. Predicting the weather with Willy. And helping my sister bake cookies and cakes in the cardboard oven that opened and closed.

I cannot fathom how we played that long with toys that didn't "do anything." Somehow, our imaginations carried the day.

My son, born of Luddites, didn't get a lot of electronic toys to play with as a child. Happily, his favorite was his Thomas the Tank Engine wooden train set. For many years, it was his go-to entertainment. "Cinders and ashes, Thomas, we're going to crash!" I still have the trains, their paint chipped and faded from being over-loved. What an imagination he had. And has.

I know you're rolling your eyes at this point, thinking I'm going to rant about kids today and their electronic toys. Nope. You're smart, you get it.

Instead, I think I'll head over to E-Bay and see if any of the relics of my childhood remain.

That's the irony, of course. That it takes an electronic resource to bring back a piece of my stone-aged past.

That's okay. This old dog likes new tricks, too.