STARRY-EYED REMINISCENCES

Dear Spike:

There is precious little in this world that makes me feel nostalgic.

The soundtrack from Out of Africa — which my father regularly played at dinnertime — always sends me back to the goulash suppers he’d make for my siblings and I after my mother went back to school.

The smell of fresh oranges sometimes makes me pine for the days when I’d climb up into my grandparents’ tree in search of a perfect piece of fruit.

And once in a while, the sight of kids fishing in the pond near our home reminds me of the days I used to spend trying to catch carp with my good friend, Aaron Jones, in the city streams near his home.

But other than that, I’m not big on starry-eyed reminiscences.

Or so I thought.

As many tales do, this story begins at the library: We’d just loaded up a big canvas bag with books for you and were getting ready to check out when your mother suggested we swing through the children’s video section. There we found a few Bob the Builder videos, a documentary about the history of Disney World and a few other Disney flicks. And then, to my great joy, a true treasure: The Adventures of Teddy Ruxpin.

The videos were from a cartoon based on the magical life of Teddy Ruxpin, an animatronic stuffed bear that was the toy to have when it was first sold in 1985.

That was the same year in which the first Back to the Future movie was released, Mike Tyson made his professional boxing debut and Nintendo began selling its most famous video game console.

Those things were all part of my childhood, but none has ever made me feel like I did when I found the Ruxpin videos. And that’s a bit strange, because the truth is that I never had a Teddy Ruxpin – although my little brother did.

The combination of nostalgia and unfulfilled childhood longing was simply too much to bear. As I watched the videos with you that night, I decided that you desperately needed a Ruxpin, and I cruised the Internet looking for a used bear in working condition.

But it didn’t take long for me to come upon the Website for a Hong Kong toy company that had bought the rights for the long-abandoned Ruxpin — and that had been turning out a brand new line of digital Teddys since 2005.

With no thought whatsoever as to whether or not we could afford the $50 bear or the two $20 story cartridges, I’d placed my order. And even though I felt rather guilty, the following day, as I admitted to your mother what I’d done, I couldn’t bring myself to say that, in hindsight, I wouldn’t have done it again. Such is the power of nostalgia, I suppose.

The box arrived on our front porch this afternoon. And this evening, you had your first encounter with a talking bear.

I brought him in and sat him on the edge of the bed.

“Ruxpin!” you squealed, recognizing the bear from the cartoons we’ve been watching together. “Ruxpin!”

A promising start, to be sure. I turned him on.

“My name is Teddy Ruxpin,” he said.

Your eyes grew wide.

“Can you and I be friends?” he asked.

Your mouth dropped open.

“I really enjoy talking to people,” he explained.

You smiled and inched forward toward the talking bear.

“Ruxpin!” you said again, reaching out your hand to shake his furry paw. “Pleased to meet you!”

You sat mostly spellbound as Ruxpin told a story about searching for treasure in the magical land of Grundo, interrupting only to curiously touch his blinking eyes, rub his talking snout, and pet his furry ears.

“Hi!” you said, again and again. “Hi! Hi! Hi!”

I felt vindicated, a bit, by your reaction, although I still feel a bit guilty about dropping $100 on a toy bear — even one that talks, sings songs and tells stories.

But I’m glad you like it. And I’m looking forward to sharing it with you, if you’ll allow me to.

I wouldn’t get used to this sort of thing, though. You’re unlikely, for instance, to get a Rubik’s Cube.

I had one of those. And it was a pain in the ass.

Love,
dad