A two-hour smile

Monday I was feeling a little bit "at sea." I had nothing that needed to be done. I'd even vacuumed! (OK, I probably should have scrubbed the kitchen floor, too, but I didn't feel like it.) So I decided to take advantage of my neighborhood. Everything is nearby, so I couldn't use the heat as an excuse for staying in. I scurried around the corner to see an old friend: Barbie.

To say I loved Barbie would be an understatement. It made me smile for two solid hours. What a gift that is! Greta Gerwig made a movie that wisely, affectionately recalls the world we each created when we played Barbies. Every day for our Barbie was a great day. She could be anything our imaginations allowed. She had all her own stuff -- car, house, clothes -- and depended on no one for money. As the movie points out, Ken only has a great day if Barbie notices him. It's true. My Ken stayed in the case forever and only came out when my Barbie storyline required him.

There's also Weird Barbie. She's the funny-looking Barbie who was played with too hard, too often, by a rough little girl. But Weird Barbie is brilliant and gifted, too, because she spent so much intense time with her little girl. 

The Barbie World sets are gorgeous. Pink, but gorgeous. The Real World is so disappointing in comparison. Kinda like Dorothy, Kansas and Oz, but in reverse. I caught little things that were a nod to The Wizard of Oz (a pink brick road, Dorothy on a poster at the Barbie World movie theater ...) and that's just so Greta Gerwig. She's a TCM movie fan who has always acknowledged her debt to the filmmakers came before.

It also got me thinking about my own Barbie. She was brunette and looked just like this. (I didn't choose her, she was a wonderful gift from Santa.) My Barbie ran a record store. I made it myself. I took a record club advertisement and carefully cut out the album covers. I pasted them to the walls of a big box my dad brought home from work. That's how she met Paul McCartney. Barbie would get dressed and get into her car to meet him for their date. Then she would come home and get on the phone and tell her best friend all about it. I never acted out the date because it would be insulting to Paul McCartney to be played by Ken. He was such a dweeb.

I found this record club ad online. "Big, Bad John" and "Moon River" date it as just before my Barbie's record store opened, but you get the idea. 

Now I want to play Barbies again! Who's with me?