the fallacy of the good old days
In a recent story article piece post something for CNN, Christy Oglesby writes about a bygone era when toys could be magical without being expensive. Her main point is that a toy’s real value is in the memories it creates, not its price tag. Certainly this speaks to our depressed economy and the monetary juggling act that is the Holiday Season, but there’s also a nasty undercurrent of “these fancy new things just aren’t as good as what we used to have.”
Oglesby writes, “I’m not putting down the blinking, electronic $450 gizmos,” but of course she is. A “gizmo” implies something meaningless or trite, and 450 dollars? What could you possibly buy your child—for Oglesby is clearly talking about childhood toys in her reminisces—that costs this much? Even a brand new Playstation 3 clocks in at $400 these days.
Implicit in all this is the incorrect and sanctimonious notion that simpler, old-fashioned toys are inherently better than their modern, expensive counterparts. I despise the idea that only toys that an Amish woodworker might have built are pure and worthwhile. Yes, nothing represents pure creativity quite like a fresh box of Crayolas, but if you think video games can’t inspire artistic creativity, I beg to differ. Need I point out that my early dalliances with Mario Paint led directly to the things I do now?
Oglesby waxes poetic about watching her neighbor master the hula hoop or play jump-rope with her classmates. You know who doesn’t have those memories? The kid in your school who was confined to a wheelchair. He lived two doors down from you, but you hardly ever saw him. I suppose he had Monopoly, but if you’re going to tell me that you and your friends sat around the table with him every week, I’m going to call you a liar. The simple truth is that those classic toys that you miss so much weren’t made for everyone. Thank God kids today have more options. Speaking of which, remember to donate to Child’s Play.
The last point in Oglesby’s something is that it’s the people you play with that matter most. She proclaims that she vividly remembers the children she played with, the implication being that video games are a solitary activity designed to give your kid autism. As if you can’t color by yourself? Or play solitaire? And since when is the hula hoop a traditionally communal activity? For your information, I remember many, many of the kids that I played video games with. Vividly. These were some of our greatest childhood triumphs. Did I ever mention the time that me and my dad stayed up until 2:00AM to beat Rampage? The ending “victory” screen was a disappointment of comic proportions. The real joy was in staying up late with my dad.
We live in a culture of consumerism, told at every moment that spending is the key to happiness. It’s important to remember that this is a lie. It’s the experiences you make from the toy, and the people you play with, that matter most. At the same time, there’s no reason to believe that a hula hoop is in any way superior to Wii Fit.
It’s just an opinion, and I kind of agree with both of you. I think that the point that she was trying to make is this: there is something to be said for “playing” and useing ones “imagination”. It’s not about the hula hoop, jump rope, or colroing. It’s about what we talked about while useing our imaginations.
Growing up as an able-bodied person, I never thought about the “invisible” children with physical and/or mental challenges. You provide an important new perspective to many of us who are “challenged” in our view of the world! Go, Jon!