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2003-04-09

Well, Roll Me on the Ground and Call Me Asparagus!

Mmmm... These diary entries are now starting to seem like work. Not a good sign. But never fear, readers! I have decided not to neglect you... yet.

Jennifer has just reminded me of one of the most interesting and traumatizing pieces of my 1980s childhood:

Teddy Ruxpin.

Just thinking about that bear makes me nervous. I mean, who in their right mind thought that it would be fun and educational for children under the age of ten to sit around an electronic talking bear for hours on end? Was this supposed to be the epitome of entertainment? We were supposed to be mezmorized by the unknown magic of this battery-powered being? I know I wasn't.

At first, things were civil. My brother, sister and I would sit around in a quiet circle, listening to the creature with some sort of uneasy mistrust. We were skeptical--why were those batteries lodged in his butt? Why was that tape forever lodged within his back? And then there was the mystery to end all mysteries: Why was his mouth moving all the time? Where was that voice coming from?

Things like that weren't supposed to happen. They're just wrong.

Not knowing what to make of all this lip-moving, my brother and I decided to test the limits of Teddy's speech patterns. To our horrific surprise, Teddy kept speaking even when we stuck our fingers between his plastic moving lips. It didn't matter how forcefully you did it--the stupid thing would just keep munching at your fingers and going on and on about whatever adventure you happened to plug into his cassette deck. And it didn't stop there. Thumbs, pretzels, forks, napkins, sticks, animal crackers--nothing would cease the movement. The voice and the mouth seemed to go on incessantly. You can imagine the frustration. But it would only get worse.

One day, after Marc and I had battered the beast with our fists, Teddy's mouth had stopped moving completely, his lips just gaping open in some sort of mixed emotion of pain and surprise. It was like he was gasping for his last breaths of articifcial air or something. Yet he was not silenced. While we'd killed the mechanics that handled Teddy's lips, we hadn't figured out how to stop the tape player installed in his backside. So while Teddy's voice continued singing and laughing, the lips had remained frozen. The bear had turned from just an object of annoyance to a beast of demonic power and bewilderment.

Needless to say, we never really played with Teddy in the same way again. I think we threw him in the basement before we moved to our new house, and kind of forgot about him after that. Dad was mad about spending $75 on a bear that we destroyed in about two weeks, but when you think about it, I think we did the right thing. It was kind of a testament to "good versus evil," if you know what I mean.

Oh, Teddy Ruxpin. So friendly, and yet... So possessed. What ever became of you, my never-silent fiend--er, friend?

Today's Soundtrack: "The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill," Lauryn Hill

Best Part of the Day: Definitely not walking home with Mark.

posted at 10:33 p.m.

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