I've been reading a lot of blogs and seeing a lot of photos from San Diego Comic Con which starts tomorrow. I'm eating myself up with jealousy, but I can't look away. Suffice it to say that a trip to California for this event is on my bucket list.
Anyway, this blog isn't about SDCC. One day, but not today.
Today I was reading about a man who was searching the Con to find an old toy of his and it got me to thinking about my old playthings. I had a lot of them when I was a kid like we all must have had in the days PI (pre-internet). Barbies, Mr. Potato Head, great games like Perfection and Hungry Hungry Hippos, and remember when Legos were just a bunch of multicoloured bricks? Not like today when we buy the Death Star set and that's all you could build.
I had lots to play with, but the thing I remember most fondly was an alarm clock. Not that you need an alarm clock when you are 7 years old and your mother had an insistent West Indian voice, but I had one just the same. And I loved that clock. It was a Raggedy Ann and Andy alarm clock. I'm going to go down an eBay rabbit hole right now and see if I can scare up a photograph. Be right back...
Not bad, I've only been away 20 minutes.
Of course 10 of those minutes were spent trying to get over the fact that nearly every description of this thing included the word "vintage". Brrr.
So here is my clock. I loved this thing. To outsiders it may have been super annoying when it spoke, but to me it was soothing in a way that can only be explained by getting you to think about your childhood bedroom. See? Like that.
When the alarm went off, there was a doorbell sound. Then the conversation started:
Ann: Andy! Andy! Please get up. It's time to call our friend!
Andy: Okay, Ann, I'm awake, let's shout it once again.
Ann & Andy: We were set to wake you. So here we are to say:
Ann: Please get up.
Andy: Brush your teeth,
Ann & Andy: And start your happy day!
I know, right? Adorable. I'd love to buy another one, but I know the memory of it is much sweeter than the actuality of it could ever be. So I'll keep the memory of that clock locked in my head along with mye Happy Face piggybank and my Barbie with the pen drawn vaginal hair (yup.)
Personal to my brother Mikey: Remember when the batteries died in that clock and how we laughed and laughed at the slurred words? Aaaaaaannnnndddy, Aaaaaaaaannnnddy. Plllllllleeeeeaaasseee geeeeet uuuuuuupp.... I still giggle when I think about it. Good times.
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