I just had to laugh when I saw this news item on the Children and Nature Network today:
The stick – possibly the world’s oldest toy – was added Nov. 27 to the National Toy Hall of Fame, joining the likes of Barbie, Slinky, teddy bears, Mr. Potato Head and Play-Doh.”
I can’t imagine a more deserving character for this honor; my boys spent hours this summer tossing small sticks into mountain streams to watch them negotiate the rapids. And I can’t imagine a more appropriate time of year to spotlight the play value of the simple stick; every time my boys watch commercial childrens’ television, I can’t help but think that the people who contrive and then market crap like Power Rangers Jungle Fury Sound Fury Battle Claws or the Hannah Montana Malibu Beach House Playset are really only one step removed from the parasites who used to market cigarettes to minors. Andrew in particular has been infected with a particularly virulent strain of toy-greed, and Belinda and I are working hard to rein in the more indulgent impulses of friends and family around us (and probably becoming insufferable in the process).
But sticks—hey, that’s brilliant! Why not give sticks this Christmas? Of course I’m not so out-of-touch to think I can get away with wrapping up sticks to put beneath our tree, but I can promise the boys more opportunities to get outside and find them on their own. I’m thinking in particular of putting to use my brother’s canoe, mostly gathering dust at my mom’s house right now. I can easily box and wrap a snapshot of it as a promissory note for a canoe camping trip sometime this spring (or even better I could give them a cheap paddle, seeing as how the boat is short one). Likewise, I might wrap a couple of carabiners as a pledge to take them climbing. The fact that I want to do these things anyway won’t take away from their excitement and anticipation one bit. And by making these outings a contract of sorts, I won’t be able to put them off when less important things threaten to get in the way.
You are going to love what we got the boys.
Nice blog, Clark!
All the best, Joe
I guess due to the eco-awareness movement, wood toys have seen an uptick in popularity. For folks who want to give wood toys, but not sure about a source, Check with your local senior center – lots of hobbyists out there who have the time and interest in woodcrafting – also provides them with an additional source of income without endangering their monthly SS checks.
I love the idea of the “coupon” to be redeemed at a future date. I’ve been thinking of that for some friends who are cash-&-time-poor and rich in pride. Coupons to “clean their house” “walk their dog” “weed their yard” etc. Good idea for everyone!
I personally would love to be able to redeem a coupon for a trek in the woods.
“It’s log! It’s log!
It’s big; it’s heavy; It’s wood!
It’s log! It’s log!
It’s better than bad– It’s good!”
You can give “logs” for presents through foundations that help the elderly and poor with heating costs. Also the various Indian tribes (Navajo, Lakota Sioux come to mind immediately) have foundations set up to provide winter heating to the folks on the reservations (and not all tribes are connected into gambling. Most are in substandard housing – especially at Pine Ridge and Rosebud Reservations in SD) Just check with your local power company or senior centers
Rich, you gotta love Google! Without it, I’d have had NO IDEA what to make of your rather cryptic comment. But now I feel like such an insider 😉
I never could stand the Ren & Stimpy Show but I LOVE that Log!
Mike Farrell used to sing that damn song all the time whenever we were kayaking and saw a strainer. It is burned permanently into the cortex now. Sigh.
Sticks are tops, followed closely by stones. Great for poking out that annoying little brothers eye and giving black eyes and bruises. Yes, kids always find the best and most appropriate uses for their toys.
When the kids are done with it you can always throw it in the “gasifier”. Clark had the first gasifier I ever saw. I knew he was environmentally conscious but I never knew he was such a forward thinker.
I would never, ever do anything like that to my younger brother. I loudly repudiate the implication! Ummm, or were you talking about your own boys? Sorry, just touchy I guess.
And the “gasifier” . . . was that what we called it when we’d empty half of the lawnmower gas-can into the sandbox and then set things on fire? Oh, those were the days.