Imagination

Figment

Jeanna G2 Comments

While coaching volleyball one night this summer, we had only 6 girls show up to play. I said, “I guess I’ll just be over on the bench by myself this match!” One of the players replied, “Nah, your imaginary friend can keep you company!”

What she doesn’t know is that, when I was a child, I had a whole imaginary crew to keep me company. Despite being the youngest of five kids growing up in my house, I did a lot of playing on my own. Except, I didn’t sound like I was alone because I was usually talking to my good friend, Tommy. No one else could see or hear him, but he was very real to me. He even drove a red blazer!

I don’t know how I had time for Tommy though, because I was very busy raising my thirteen kids in the land of make-believe. Maybe I heard one too many nursery rhymes about women living in shoes, otherwise I have no clue where else that whopper of a storyline could have come from. Now I don’t think I ever blamed Tommy when I got in trouble, but people sure did start to wonder what his relationship was with my kids.

I overheard my daughter talking to herself the other day, so I peeked around the corner to see if maybe she had a Tommy of her own. She was dancing, jumping around, and laughing, so I thought it must be her imagination running wild in there! Then I heard another voice and realized she was on FaceTime with a friend. Strange as it seems, I was somewhat disappointed that I was wrong! Well, I’m not disappointed that her friends are not figments of her imagination, I just hope that she’s allowing her imagination to reach its full potential.

Around the same time that I was hanging out with Tommy, I was fascinated with the Disney character named Figment. He was a purple dragon-like creature who would put on a multitude of disguises and use his imagination to discover all sorts of things. Maybe Figment is why I still can’t make up my mind about who I want to be when I grow up. Why be one thing when you can be so much more (or at least pretend to be)?

Summer Lovin’

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I’m not a fan of summer. I do not like being hot. I like sweating even less. I would stay inside all summer, if I could, but my dogs, job, and the social responsibility of my yard make that impossible. The only thing that saves summer for me is the beach. I love the beach. As someone who promotes juvenescence, the beach is the perfect stage.

At the beach, being chill and taking naps is encouraged. There’s no powering through the day to be as productive as possible. The beach actually, naturally, works against any attempts at big adult thoughts. You start to have one and then —Sploosh! — a big wave takes you out. Then you try to have another one and —Yoo-Hoo! — calls that unique shell, half hiding in the sand. You’re about to contemplate something real adult-like and then — Swoosh! — a seagull flies by and steals that chip right out of your hand. Look! A ghost crab! And what just jumped out of the water? Did you see that? Ayeeee! Something slimy just brushed my leg!

Can’t concentrate, can you? It’s okay. Give in to the sound of the waves. Be mesmerized by the sun rays shimmering across the water. Let your most earnest query be, “Is that a buoy or a lighthouse in the distance?” Did you even realize you single-handedly built a mud castle while you watched that pelican dive for lunch? Who can spit their cherry seeds the farthest? Who can hold their handstand the longest in the waves? Go ahead, pretend you’re a mermaid or a pirate. Everyone’s doing it. Let go. Hakuna Matata. Live Aloha. But put on your sunscreen. Seriously. A sunburn will erase all the fun.

Guess Who Came To Breakfast?

Jeanna G1 Comment

They all had a story to share.

The Viking told of his latest conquest. He stormed the castle and had a run-in with a knight over who would get the last turkey leg off the king’s banquet. They employed a wishbone to call a truce.

The caveman told of the time he was outsmarted by a brontosaurus. They bet on who could get the figs from the top of the tree first. The brontosaurus said he wouldn’t use his legs, so the caveman thought he couldn’t lose. He took the bet…and lost by a neck!

The lieutenant was just happy to be eating breakfast without the Sarge either mashing his nose into his plate, or stealing the plate out from under his nose.

The little red-headed girl lamented over the fact that the round-headed boy still hadn’t found the nerve to ask her out.

The blonde-haired boy and his tiger took turns shooting strawberries at the Viking’s helmet with their slingshot.

The orange cat, between yawns, was describing a nightmare in which he had turned into lasagne, and was torn because he couldn’t decide if he should eat himself, or not.

What’s that you ask? Was this all a dream? No, no. This all happened over breakfast. No really! It was all right there in the funny pages.

Laughs du Jour

Growing up, Saturday mornings were for cartoons, and Sundays were for comics. I wouldn’t get up from the table to get dressed for church until I finished reading all of my favorite strips. Comics gave me material for my jokes and storylines for my pretend play. They also gave me some insight into the way adults think and behave. Hmmm…adult behaving like children. Sounds like a comic strip to me!

Tonight my daughter and I watched Be My Valentine, Charlie Brown. It got me thinking about all of the comics she missed out on because of my switch from print to digital media. I think the funny pages need to be delivered to the breakfast table again.