I’m packing up my circus tent and going on the road.
Yup, I’ll be taking a break from this small corner of the planet and head off to somewhere much more pleasant this time of year. I do not care for winter and if I don’t have to subject myself to all of the nonsense that goes along with it for the duration, I won’t.
So off I go …to somewhere other than here and I’m taking my toys with me. “How fun!” you think, right?
WRONG! It’s terrifying.
To understand what I mean you have to know that I am
slightly obsessed with routine and I am a living example of the phrase “a place for everything and everything in it’s place”. My idea of organized may not look like yours. I don’t label, I don’t sort and I don’t categorize but I have a system and it works. That being said, going on vacation quickly turns into an effort to stay that way while the universe conspires against me.
Perhaps you know that feeling when you go to find that one particular figure you need for a photo only to discover it’s not where you thought it was and then you spend the next twenty minutes tearing your toy/camera/studio/bike storage/spare bedroom apart looking for it? Now imagine that happening in a location completely foreign to you, a location that you will occupy for a very finite amount of time.
You don’t want to ruin a day (or several days) of vacation plans because you can’t find your favorite Stormtrooper. No stupid! You have to maintain your composure. You have to carry on. You have to get into that rental car, drive many, many miles away from the last place you saw your favorite Stormtrooper and pretend like it doesn’t bother you . But as you drive further and further away from the hotel you continue to twist your brain and pin down that last precise moment in time you had that Stormtrooper in your hand.
You try desperately to enjoy the sights and sounds around you. You try to pay attention but it’s always there, isn’t it? Needling you, pestering you. That camera you have strapped around your neck seems a little heavier today, doesn’t it? Your backpack is depressingly one Stormtrooper lighter today, isn’t it?
“You’ve lost him.” you think to yourself. “You’ll never, ever, ever find another Stormtrooper like him. He was perfect. Articulation, coloration, moulding…everything was PERFECT!”
He’d been with you for years, through thick and thin.
Through the low times, when any hint of inspiration had vanished, he was there. Through the high times, when you couldn’t snap pictures fast enough, he was there. He was always there and now you’ve betrayed him. By removing him from the safe confines of home and bringing him along on vacation you’ve demonstrated just how inconsiderate you really are.
It’s exactly this type of scenario that keeps me up at night. To lose a figure away from home would be catastrophic! So I’ll pack the necessities for my trip, clothes, toiletries, etc, and then I’ll pack up some figures to take along. I’ll hem and haw about who to take, who to leave behind. I’ll decide that I absolutely cannot take this one, but I have to take that one. If I misplace him it won’t hurt as much as if I misplaced him!
You may think I’m slightly off my rocker worrying about what might happen and you’d be right. But I’d wager I’m not alone. I’m sure someone else out there has lost one of their “guys” and felt some sense of remorse, some sense of guilt.
These guys, these plastic figures, these toys… they’re my friends. I’d hate to lose even one of them.
Wish me luck!