Buzz Lightyear To The Rescue

Day 219: Oh, no! The evil Zurg has cowboy Woody and Becky Thatcher tied to a caterpilla...cata...cat...oh, catapult!...and he's going to launch them into far outer space beyond Saturn and Neptune! His Deadly Dinosaur is chewing on the rope! They're going to launch! Oh, but here comes Buzz! Lightyear! To the rescue! Biff! Pow! Bash! Stomp! Take that, you Deadly Dinosaur! Now Becky and Woody can go free! Buzz! Lightyear! Saves the day!

Being the child that I was, I woke up one morning when I was about ten years old to the frightening realization that I was losing my ability to truly IMAGINE as only a child can do. I'm not talking about thinking up games and inventing plot-lines for toys. I'm talking about something greater than simple visualization and creativity. I am talking about the ability to believe in the happenings within a non-existent world. At that moment, I made a conscious decision to hold onto my imagination as long as I could, or as some might put it, I vowed never to grow up.

Now you have to admit that this rather existential concept was somewhat beyond the average ten-year old, but then I had always been an adult in a child's body. The dilemma I then found myself in was how to become a child as my body grew older. I set about practicing, exercising my imagination every day. By the time I'd reached my late teens, I could see what a substantial portion of the ability I'd lost. I am happy to say that the decline ended there, though. Now as an adult, I am more childlike than I was when I was young, if perhaps not as innocent.

So what happens when you close the door at your house? Do your toys come to life, leading a secret existence to which you are only given brief and tantalizing glimpses? Mine do, and there's no way you can convince me otherwise, not in an Infinity or Beyond!