A Trip Down own Memorabilia Lane, Without Ever Leaving the Garage

  Last night, Ian started going through the garage - those jillions of rubber bins containing everything that has survived our New Hampshire - to Colorado - to California trek over the years.   He was searching for his original Pokemon cards and two lacrosse balls. (None of us have ever played lacrosse, but Ian discovered one on his middle school campus in 7th grade, and he liked the way they bounce, so he ordered a couple online.)  Ian spent hours going through everything he loved from his earlier youth, and eventually Madeleine joined him, in search of things like a mermaid Lego figure and Bok Choy Boys (little plastic toys we used to get out of a "gumball" machine at the entrance to Market Basket in New Hampshire - plastickly, creepy little figurines).  As a result, he has been filling me in on some of the details of his childhood play, with wistful fondness:

1.  Ian came across his much-loved"Encyclopedia of Dogs," and discovered in it some paper he had left inside which outlined his own Pokemon creations inspired by what he was finding out about dogs, such as a Pokemon based on the Japanese Spitz breed which belonged to Pokemon's electric type and, as a result, would generate electricity as its very mane-like, Pomeranian-ish fur would brush up against the walls of the tunnels that it had dug for itself.  

2.  Two bok choy boys: he created a world for his bok choy boys, where they took on their own personas and interacted.  He would work out their interactions on paper - I think that was the forum of their encounters - and he would set it up so they would engage - often in some kind of organized fight - and even though, in his understanding, each character's actions would coincide with those of the others in real-time, he would walk each one through their part of it in succession, and in the process, imagine all of these exchanges coming together a single event.  (I don't think it has ever occurred to me to elaborate on a single phenomenon by iterating through each character's part in it in succession.)  

Ian built out full story-lines and identities from these figures, based on the symbols on each one (very much like Pokemon).  Most of them had special powers, but the one with the dollar-sign, instead, had nothing but luck.  In spite of this, he was the one who always won the matches - because he was lucky, of course! - and he was something of a (sympathetic) protagonist.

3.  Beyblades:  he has the fondest memory of bey blades.  He talked about how he and all of his friends would mix and match the various part of them to generate their own "creatures," in which they took proprietary pride, each believing their customized Beyblade to be entirely an entity unto itself.   He compared the phenomenon to Pokemon card decks: since each child curated their own unique set, with very discriminating judgment, they considered them to be uniquely their own creation.  He said that each child considered their Pokemon deck effectively to be their "team."   I told him that Auntie Ann had said, back in the earlier Pokemon age of Ian's life, that small boys took pride of ownership in their Pokemon, and talked about them and showed them off to other aficionados, much the way that "big boys" take pride in, talk about, and show off, their automobiles.  Ian thought that was exactly right.

Ian said that in New Hampshire, they used to use a large tree stump - no doubt from a very neatly felled tree - to serve as their Beyblade "stadium," and that, even though you had to contend with some dirt and maybe sawdust, it worked pretty well as a stadium.  (Eventually, I remember, we invested in the actual Beyblade-approved "stadium," which could hardly have been much more interesting, being largely a plastic, bordered plastic bin with some trademarked thematic decoration on the periphery.)

I reminded Ian of the extreme solemnity with which he would shout "Let 'em RIP!" at the outset of each match, as the boys would pull the plastic cord out of their Beyblades to discharge them into the stadium for the competition. Apparently, "ripping" was what they did instead of spinning.

Ian was accused of Beyblade heresy because he once referred to the toy as its generic prototype, a "top."  A lad made a point of correcting him.  Ian pointed out that the word "top" was part of the description of the item on the Beyblade label, but I doubt that that got him off the hook.  

4.  Pokemon:  Ian had two sets of Pokemon cards in his early childhood - the big collection, and a kind of "dream team" that stayed with him in his winter jacket pocket, at all times, so that they would always be available.  Last night, in looking for his "inner circle" of Pokemon cards, of course he was trying to find that jacket itself, since it was always the dedicated Pokemon repository, when he was small.  He also came across his big, knit, blue "Life is Good" hat, with the smiley face logo on the back and the big flaps to keep ears warm - something you needed in New Hampshire's winters - a season we don't really have now in California.  The very sight of his Life is Good hat elicited cheer in him, and wistfulness in both of us.

He said he had a significant disagreement with one of his Pokemon colleagues - his friend Adam - as to the pronunciation of one of the Pokemon's names.  (He can still readily produce both the canonical pronunciation which he has always maintained and his friend's mildly comical misrendering.)  He articulated to his associate that his pronunciation came from both his own Pokemon encyclopedia, which, of course, he had consulted for its reliable authority, and also the Pokemon.com website.  Adam retorted that the Pokemon website was not "real" - that it was some kind of fraudulent "pretender" source of information.

(March 21, 2021)