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| The stuff of catalogs for the likes of me. The U.S.S. Flagg was when the science of plastic became art. |
I
didn't have any friends my own age. My brand of nerdy condescension
didn't seem to attract a lot of peers to my inner circle. I mainly
had older friends and younger friends with whom I could be a leader
or follower. One of my early regular best friends was a boy that
lived a few blocks away named Quin. His dad was a small-time up and
comer who was always angling for more money or influence with side
businesses and perennial bids for public office in our small town.
His mom was a beautiful and sweet stereotypical fifties wife living a
few decades to late. She was the sort of woman who had the kids to
school, the beds made, laundry done, cookies baked and dinner on the
table at 5:30. It was so radically different than my home life that
it was sometimes disorienting and confusing to me but I loved it. I
loved that the house was clean and organized and that Quins mom was
always interested in talking to us and helping us do projects. She
also was a firm believer in afternoon snacks of the baked variety,
that was a dogma I could get behind. Beyond having a super stable and
normal home life quin had great toys that I coveted dearly. He had
video games, erector sets, and best of all he had a G.I. Joe aircraft
carrier that was about two feet tall and four feet long. All of that
magnificent plastic joy all in one place was my idea of heaven. When
we were playing I would generally try and direct the attention down
stairs to the play room that had the G.I. Joes but as with many
people who have stuff quin was bored with the opulence and wanted to
play something else. Sometimes in anticipation of playing with the
aircraft carrier I would bring my G.I. Joe collection with me. I only
had one Joe so I could bring over my whole collection in my pocket
and get him into the action which must have been such a treat for
him.
