Wish Books

 One of my guilty pleasures is browsing the hometown page of my Facebook account.

Props to Dawn Reed for photo

There I've found lots of nostalgic fare, and these days a trip back in time to my childhood is a nice touch of escapism.

This week the Parma Memories page featured the cover a Sears toy catalog from 1966. And boy, howdy, did that bring back a flood of memories.

In my mind, I can smell the printed pages of the catalog, each wafer-thin sheet filled with possibilities. How cool would it be to own this or that. Some of the toys had been featured in TV commercials. Others just looked like they would be fun to play with. 

Board games, dolls, race car sets, puzzles and all manner of joy, were tucked into a catalog jam packed with gift ideas for good (well, mostly good) children everywhere.

I knew in my heart of hearts that most of these treasures would never be mine. With five siblings and a limited budget, my mom would do her best. But what would show up under the tree would never live up to the dreams promised in the Sears catalog.

And yet, oh what fun it was to imagine the Christmas morning that existed only in my head. It was the anticipation, the reaching for the unreachable, that was the magic. Poised with a crayon to circle my favorites, I'd pore over the catalog for hours.

And in the end, I didn't really miss getting a Chrissy doll (with hair that grew and grew). Or the board game Mystery Date. Or Mouse Trap. Not too much, anyhow.

These are the days of instant gratification, where you can get anything you want online (rather than at Alice's Restaurant).

If you got that last reference, you know what I'm talking about.

Just for chuckles, I went on ebay and searched for the old Sears toy catalogs. Someone is selling them for $19 apiece. On a thumb drive.

I think I'll pass, thanks. There are some experiences electronics just can't replicate.