My last Christmas in the toy shop

This isn’t easy for me to write but I want to say something about it. This Christmas will be my last in the toy shop. For the past nine years I’ve been ‘the toy shop guy’ and I wanted to say thank you to all of the people who have made it such an amazing experience.

I’ve already written about the strangely slow process in which kids grow out of toys and then disappear from the shop but at the time of writing I never would have thought that I would be moving on too. I’ve been given an amazing opportunity to do something that will be a huge challenge but which I expect will also be extremely rewarding. However, the toy shop will always be something very dear to me.

Who wouldn’t love the chance to test-drive toys and play games for a living? I’ve enjoyed nine years doing a job that, as a kid, I would have gone crazy for. During that time I even had two kids of my own who have let me see toys through new eyes and who taught me more about the simple joy of play than I could have expected. I know they’re going to miss having their dad working in a toy shop too.

Being a “toy shop guy” is a job with a very transient clientele; every year our customer base shifts as children grow up just that little bit more. There’s something sorrowful, yet wonderful, inherent in watching kids grow up. Obviously as a parent I experience that every day with the little people in my house who are steadily getting less and less little. However, I feel honoured that I’ve also had the chance to share that a little bit with our customers.

I can’t list everyone I’m going to miss here because there are so many. To the parents and grandparents reading this I just want to thank you for the stories and the laughs we’ve had over the years as the children accompanying you grew with each visit. If it weren’t for all of you I would have just been some guy moving boxes around all day. You made my work in the shop what it was and for that I want to thank all of you.

You have also been amazingly supportive towards my series of children’s books. I can’t imagine a situation where getting a story out into the world would have been such a pleasant experience. Jack Reusen and the Fey Flame was my first proper jump into the world of writing and I wouldn’t have enjoyed anything close to the response I got if it wasn’t for you all.

For almost a decade I’ve made toys my life, I did everything I could to understand the ways that different types of play can help children develop their skills and talents, and more importantly learn things about who they are. I’ve always prided myself on the fact that I would be able to find something to fit a child’s needs. This is part of what’s involved in being part of the amazing team at Fun Junction.

To be honest the most important thing about Fun Junction‘s staff has always been that we’re kind of big kids at heart, we love our toys, we’ve played with most of them, and we want to make sure we get the very best products around, so that we can be sure that we have something for everyone. You can’t go wrong in getting a toy at Fun Junction.

I was so happy to hear that I would be getting the chance to enjoy one last Christmas at the shop. It is honestly the best part of the entire year; not because of sales or footfall, but because of the magic of Santa lists, siblings secretly picking out presents for each other, and of course the odd flying visit as some of the bigger presents are picked up by the big guy before the big day 😉 I would have been devastated to have missed all this.

My first ever John the Toy shop guy blog post ‘Pocket Money’

My last official day as John the toy shop guy will be on the 31st December (Hogmanay). It’s normally one of the quietest days of the year (and we normally close at about 4pm because of that) but I’d love it if you could pop by for a quick wee visit if you’re about (I’ll pop the kettle on). Again, thank you all for an amazing nine years, I really will miss all of this, it’s going to be very strange not spending my days in the toy shop. Hope Santa is good to you all, Merry Christmas, all the best, John the Toy Shop Guy.

Jack Reusen and the Spark of Dreams

My next book is out. It’s fantasy fiction for children aged 6 years and up with magic, a girl who changes into a polar bear, a dream stealer, and even a few ‘zombies’. Please pop over here to find out more: https://jackreusen.wordpress.com/and-the-spark-of-dreams/?preview=true

The brick debate

Today I want to talk about one of the biggest issues that faces any parent. That’s right, we’re not going to talk about learning right from wrong, or the importance of sharing; today we’re going to talk about LEGO block organisation.

Here is the key question: do you sort by block shape and size or do you sort by colour? There seems to be little common ground to be found between these two positions (unless you do both, but that seems a tad excessive for all but the biggest Lego collections). Whenever I ask other parents they seem to polarise and there are clearly two very set camps on this issue. Of those who actually sort their children’s Lego (a lot don’t), you get one side opting for the easiest method for to sort (colour), and the other camp opts for the easiest organisation method for building (by size). I fall into the camp of thinking that blocks should be organised by shape so that when you’re making something, regardless of the colour of the blocks, you’ll at least have exactly the pieces you need to create the model you want.

However, for some, this seems to be a strange position to take. My wife insists that Lego be sorted by colour and even the Lego shop in Glasgow seemed to follow this system, sorting Lego blocks by colour (to an extent). That doesn’t make sense to me, and I’d love to hear anyone’s comments below to explain why organising by colour instead of the shape of the block is a useful strategy. Aside from making it easier for the person putting the Lego away (it is easier to discern colour differences than shape differences I suppose) I can’t see the point.

Maybe I’m missing something here; perhaps it’s easier to organise them and find the right block if you know which colour you looking for. However, when you’re packing about 10 to 20 different LEGO boxes into a drawer (all with very different colour pallets), then for me the easiest way to organise them would be by shape. That way you can follow the Lego instruction books, and even if the blocks are the wrong colour, then at least they’ll be the right shape, and after all isn’t this what you really need to be sure of  ending up with the model you want?

This is a quick wee post today about something that’s been bothering me for a while. This has basically come to a head because I’m about to put together some organisation boxes for my son’s Lego. I’m really hoping to get some feedback here so that I can make sure he has a perfectly organised collection of Lego blocks (well until his wee brother upends the boxes that is 😉 ) and any advice you have would be appreciated.

As always thank you for stopping by, and I welcome any comments you have below, all the best John.

P.S. Just had a look and ‘the brick blogger‘ seems to cover the bases well (and seems to confirm my suspicions)

Oh and if you’d rather have your Lego sort itself, then that seems to be an option too (though you’ll need to have the Lego MINDSTORMS EV3 Discovery Book (robotsqaure has a discount code for you if you follow the link). Here’s a video of the sorter in action:

With this doll your child would never sleep again

Just found this post on global toy news. Richard Gottlieb has successfully dredged up a nightmare of dolls-gone-by into the open: Edison’s phonograph doll. Released in 1890 this doll came with tiny records prepared with spoken passages for your dolly to ‘say’. I have to say I have never heard a creepier rendition of ‘Now I lay me down to sleep’ in my life. What’s more is that this doll (according to Gottlieb) cost the equivalent of what would be $250 (just over £160) today.

This made me wonder about the many, many higher priced toys on the market that end up as cultural oddities in later years. Things like Kota the ride on dinosaur by Playskool, which was pegged as the ‘next big thing’ about three or four years ago but which simply disappeared. If I remember right (and we never stocked it so don’t quote me on this) but as awesome as Kota is I’m sure he was priced at nearly £300 when he first came out in the UK. In terms of functionality and the potential time a child will play with it until it becomes boring, then even at £150 this toy is alarmingly pricey, given that it’s basically a ride-on Furbie.

Perhaps toy buying has changed though; in demographic terms I think you’d be hard-pushed to guess at how much an individual might spend on toys for their kids. Obviously those earning more can afford to spend more but to be honest that’s not what you see.

In many ways it seems to have a lot more to do with the type of childhood the parent had, their aspirations for their own children, and the type of relationship they have with their child. Throw into the mix the cacophony of different child-rearing philosophies regarding how much, or how little, play a child should participate in and it becomes anyone’s guess as to how much a parent will be spending on toys.

I’m not going to try and put ballpark figures down here, nor would I want to point out what different parents spend in the shop (it’s hardly for me to say) but I will point out that working in a toy shop can blow your expectations out of the water when it comes to how you think different people spend their money.

That said I’m amazed that anyone ever bought one of Edison’s dolls. Whether it’s the slightly skewed, vacant stare, or what looks like a pair of fangs (image at the start of this post is Edison’s doll), this doll seems designed to haunt your dreams. The soulless squeal of it’s voice is especially disturbing as it begs for God to watch over it. Enjoy your nightmares:

Oh and if you need cheered up don’t forget to pop along to www.jackreusen.co.uk to find out about Jack and his adventures with his friend Thea (a girl who turns into a polar bear) in a world of magic and mystery (books aimed at children aged from six years to adult).

Getting to know yourself

Playing is weird for adults, we do it with children when we have to, some of us enjoy it (I clearly do or you wouldn’t be hearing from me as much) but some adults genuinely feel very uncomfortable with play. However, strip away the shield of a child/children and we all start to look very similar.

I have a confession to make, when it comes to play which is unsupervised by a child, I personally get a bit uncomfortable. I’m not saying I can’t do it, I’m not even saying I can’t have fun with toys, I’m just saying it feels a bit weird. So lets think about this.

I work in a toy shop, I’ve been around toys in this kind of environment from when I was fourteen years old till eighteen then since I was twenty two until now. Obviously I played with toys as a child and I was still making Lego sets at about twelve years old, so apart from four years at university and a couple of years between stopping playing with toys and my first job in a toy shop, I’ve basically been around toys for my entire life. Put another way, toys have played a huge role in my everyday life for pretty much my entire time on this planet and even I feel a bit strange picking up a toy and playing with it when there aren’t any kids around.

I have no alternative frame of reference but I’m guessing that if someone who has had unsupervised access to toys for their entire life can feel a bit peculiar playing in the absence of children then there’s perhaps little hope for other adults out there. The thing is that culturally we see toys as the things of childhood. To play with an actual, bona fide, child’s toy is to use a well-recognised cultural object out of context. Children are the guardians of the toy, to use one, one must typically have a child as one’s guide or one risks feeling ‘silly’.

There are people I know who seem to be exceptions to this rule, the great majority of these are mothers but I do know a few non-mothers among them. These are the kind of people who can pick up a puppet and strike up a conversation with another adult (no kids in sight), or who can hunker down with some toy trains and shout out a big proud ‘woowoo!’ in a shop full of ‘grown-ups’. So why do the rest of us have trouble?

I’m inclined to think it’s got a lot to do with how we define ourselves, or at least it relates to the character we consider ourselves to be. As a teenager I was happy to live in the fringes, be seen as weird etc. but as an adult (and especially as a parent) I have to admit that I’ve become a bit more…normal (for want of a better word). I want a good life for myself and my family and being too unusual can get in the way of job prospects and friendships with other families, so I play my part as an ordinary guy.

To be honest I’ve played ordinary for a long time now, for so long that the hippy-dippy, weirdo pseudo-communist of my teens is hard for me to relate to. In short I’ve purposely become ordinary because ordinary is easier. Teenage John was was a bit of a mess, he had goals but no drive, and so many interests that he had a hard time keeping track, he slept entire days away and took friendships for granted. The sad fact of the matter is that I’ve produced a self-imposed bubble of ‘normalcy’ around myself to avoid becoming him, and one thing that ‘normal’ adults don’t do is play with toys (unless they’re playing with children).

So back to play and what it can tell us about ourselves, for me play exposes my attitudes regarding normalcy in adults and perhaps this is the real heart of what makes me uncomfortable. I lets me see what I’ve done to myself (for what are admittedly good reasons) to become the man I am today. I love playing with my children, and relish in pretend play when I’m with them but on my own or around solely other adults I doubt you’ll see me playing like that.

I know that play is a beneficial part of any person’s encounters with the world (I’ve discussed this before) and it makes me a little sad to realise that I’m the one responsible for my feeling of discomfort when playing alone. However, simply recognising this isn’t sufficient to let me enjoy toys in the same way I did as a child, or in the same way I do when I’m with my own children.

Thinking about how you feel about play (and toys) can have a profound effect on the way you view yourself. For me I recognise that I’ve gotten a little boring as I’ve ‘grown-up’ and that’s not very easy for a ‘toy shop guy’ to admit, but it also lets me see that who I am has been my choice and there’s no reason that I have to accept any part of my character. Perhaps this is simply a silver lining to a very small issue.

I still love toys when playing with with my children and I think toys and play are absolutely vital components of a healthy childhood (and adulthood). I’ve simply had to admit the peculiar fact that when push comes to shove, as an adult making decisions on how I’d spend my own time, I’m unlikely to choose playing with toys as a top activity. The next step is figuring out why I’ve produced this self-imposed exile from this little corner of the world of imagination and play.

Sorry for the downer today people, feel free to share your own revelations about yourself that you’ve discovered through play. Lets hope there aren’t too many boring old fuddy duddys like me out there. As always thanks for reading, All the best, John

Barbie’s toilet!

This post is basically just a chance for me to talk about Barbie’s toilet and here it is. Who would have thought that Barbie had a toilet? For that matter, who would have thought that she had enough internal organs to need a toilet? (Sorry that last bit was a bit nasty, but seriously no woman has a waist that small without something weird going on)

Children and power

Why is it so important to be the ‘fastest’, the ‘strongest’, etc. etc.? It’s a question I’m asking myself more and more now that my two are hitting that wonderful ‘isn’t it fun to hit my brother’ stage. I understand that competitiveness is to be encouraged but sometimes it seems genuinely nonsensical. I’ve had squabbles over who can fly the highest (basically bound by the laws of imagination; i.e. infinite) and other utter insanity that I just can’t get my head around. So again (and again) I find myself asking myself, why is it so important to them?

Ordinarily I can get myself into my kids’ shoes fairly easily, despite the fact that so much of their play makes no ‘real-world’ sense, there’s normally some internal logic to it. However, this imaginary one-upmanship looks like nothing more than an exercise in futility to me.

At the start of Toy Story, Andy has the toys duke it out in this kind of competition but the key thing is that his imaginings stop after about two rounds (basically because there’s only one child playing):

“I brought my attack dog with the built-in force field.
Well, I brought my dinosaur who eats force-field dogs.”

The story is alarmingly, brain-achingly, different with two children in the mix. Thankfully I’ve had a dry spell of this for the past few weeks but there isn’t a doubt in my mind that the spectre of the debate over ‘strongest’/ ‘fastest’/’furthest’/’most immune to damage’ etc. etc. returns.

It will no doubt start along the lines of “well I’m lava proof!…well I’m as hot as the sun!…”well I’m sun-proof!…” and it will degenerate (along with my sanity) from there.

Is it just me that get’s utterly sick to the back teeth of this or are there others out there with a similar dread for what I call the pretend-power arms-race? Please feel free to share your experiences in the comments below. As always thanks for reading, Cheers, John

OK fess up, are you reading children’s fiction?

Re-blogging from the website for my new children’s book:

“To even out the ratio children would have to be getting through a whopping nine books for every one book read by an adult. Someone, somewhere, is reading a lot of kids fiction…” read more here:

OK fess up, are you reading children’s fiction?.

A quick tip for cleaning wooden railway pieces

I just uploaded this to my youtube account and thought I should share it here too. I originally found this tip in the comments of another website and it’s proved to be really useful and it has a great finished effect (without having to use chemicals). Hope it helps someone else too:

 

We are what we do

“Papa smurf has really taken his CES (Chief Executive Smurf) job to heart, round the office the smurfs have started calling him ‘Alan Smurfer’ (though none of them say it to his face, they don’t want to be told ‘you’re smurfered’).”

I write product descriptions, it’s not my only job (not by a long shot) but some days it takes up most of my work hours. Recently I had a couple of pretty mammoth sessions and as I got more tired I unintentionally got a bit more creative (as you can see above). With this in mind I’d like to share some of my favourite product descriptions that I’ve written in the past few days.

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Schleich, Dragon Hunter

“If you threw a Gremlin, Battle-cat from He-Man, a dragon and an Ankylosaurus in a blender…well you’d have a broken blender for starters…but if they somehow converged into one creature then THIS would be it (and if you don’t get the references in this sentence we now feel very old).” You can buy him here.

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Sometimes you look at a group of linked toys and a story just emerges spontaneously. That’s what happened with business Smurfs. It started with ‘Marketing Smurf’:

Schleich, Marketing Smurf

“Last month’s smurf numbers are smurfing smurfable, if we keep up the smurfle media campeign and really push our bricks and mortar smurfs we’ll be in for a smurfer of a year!”

But once he was on-board the others all seemed to find their own place in the office, next came ‘Accountant Smurf’:

Schleich, Accountant Smurf

“We’re going to have to switch to generic coffee in the break room if we want to get our smurfspenditure down to smurfable levels but I don’t want to be the one to tell lazy smurf, it’s the only thing that smurfs him smurfing.”

After these I wrote Alan Smurfer or ‘Boss Smurf’ up (you can see his description above) and couldn’t help but feel that the middle management in this place would feel a little strained. This is where Manager Smurfette stepped in:

Schleich, Manager Smurfette

Smurfette is at her smurf’s end, why did she ever agree to manage this team of smurfless smurfs? The CES (Chief Operating Smurf) is demanding increased performance, while the accountant keeps smurferring on about lazy smurf’s coffee consumption, and the marketing team keeps telling her “It’s all smurf! We’re building smurfial media presence’ but that doesn’t translate into cold, hard smurf!

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There are a heap more product descriptions but I don’t want this post to run on and on. Before I finish up I thought I’d do a wee plug. I’ve written a story book for children aged five and up (and for reading age of six or seven and up) called ‘Jack Reusen and the Fey Flame.’ It’s part one of a series and we’ve got a fully fledged website (and blog) about the book and the characters, if you find your way over there I’ll be very grateful. The kindle edition is out now, click here for a list of links for purchase in different countries.

As always thanks for reading, I feel like it’s important to be creative wherever you can and I hope you enjoyed a few of my wee sparks of creativity. How do you express yourself in your workplace? Do you find it easy to let your creative side out for a spin or do you feel as though you have to curb it until you get home? I would love to hear your own experiences in the comments below or even over on Twitter, Cheers, John