Inner Children

I remember days past when Sina, Bubba, and the Chow boys sat on the porch at the 5th East house and played with their Transformers. They had them all figured out . . . I could transform all of them about half way, then could never figure out the rest. I felt a little dumb, but over time something new came to take their place so it didn't matter anymore. Just a passing fad, right?

Tonight I was at Cheers (a/k/a The Game Store . . . where everybody knows your name) and someone brought in his new and improved, way more complicated and lots bigger than the 80's versions, Transformer toys. My thought was, "Hmmm, they're back. I probably still can't figure them out. Back to the game." It was at this point that gender differences became very clear. Just about every man in the place spent some portion of the evening completely enthralled by them. Everyone had to try to transform them. Those in the know showed off for those less capable. There was much reminiscing of their childhood Transformers experiences. When I left at 1:00 am (2 hours after the store was supposed to close), they were still at it. Apparently, there are some things you just never outgrow.