The Teddy Bear... doo doo dooooooo

Wowzers, another blog! It’s almost like I’ve been stuck as school downloading music from the internet for free while scraping bits of the textbooks I’m not buying from the same magical source and saving them to my zip drive and have nothing better to do than type. Ahh, embrace the freeness and cheapness, this means I can afford more tempura tonight. Mmm.

Alright, so instead of just wasting your time by babbling about nothing, I have a point to prove, really. Let’s imagine that you are sitting on the bus and you look at the lad across from you who happens to be clutching a small teddy bear. It’s not a big deal, really. I guess that you could see it as a system of support, some sign of consistency in an ever changing world. Odds are he’s a latchkey kid on his way to daycare or some other form of after school care institution, so it’s probably nice for him to hang on to something of familiarity.

You adjust against the cheap vinyl seats. It’s no Cadillac, but if you were paying attention to my initial paragraph, it is a cheap form of transportation, besides; you look like a total bum if you’re cruising to campus in a CTS. You look to the side; out of the corner of your eye you spot another one, not a CTS, but a teddy bear. This time it’s not some young lad but a middle aged business man and he happens to be clutching it close to his face and whispering sweet nothings to it. You quickly turn to face the front of the bus, ignoring the man with issues behind you.

Not a big deal, you think. It makes sense, a city bus is bound to have some crazies on it, although there is something discerning about the whole event, you can’t put your finger on it, maybe it was the way he was dressed, or looked, he didn’t have that cat-eating-hobo appearance, no. He looked like he could be your neighbor, not the creepy one that watches you change sometimes, but the one you give a spare key to, or that you borrow sugar from. That’s the problem, he seemed, well, normal.

As you collect your thoughts you look around and see a teenager sitting next to you playing with her teddy. It’s quite elaborately decorated, definitely personalized, and for some bizarre reason, she doesn’t seem ashamed that you are blatantly staring at her as she plays with the thing. In fact, you can sense an air of pride around her. It’s somehow been transformed from an item of comfort to a status symbol.

Your stop comes up and you quickly disembark. Looking around the streets you begin to notice that these small bears are everywhere. It’s like you’re in kindergarten again and it’s Show and Tell Tuesday. Some people are proud of the things, maybe they’ve decorated them, they display them in prominent locations, and just like that time you brought My Little Pony/Ninja Turtles to school, some little jerk may steal the thing. Sure your name is written on it, but it doesn’t really hold up in the Court of the Playground.

The bears have moved from the realm of strange to an annoyance. You walk into class and while deep in thought while frantically scribbling down notes coming from you less than interesting monotone professor, some little blond thing jumps up from the back of the class and proclaims that she is awesome while swinging the bear around for all to see. You sneak a glance and try to make her head explode by mind powers alone. Unfortunately you are unsuccessful.

Later that day while running around at work, you decide to do what you get paid to do and try and help a customer. You eagerly approach, enthusiastically awaiting any challenge they may pose such as which candle produces the strongest scent, or why the SX 2.0 smells like that. “Um, hi. Can I-” you begin but are cut off with a scowl from the jerk-face of a customer who looks at you as if you walked into the middle of the maternity ward while a woman you don’t know is giving birth. It’s awkward and you don’t know why they would be so objective to help. Questions fog your mind; do you smell like a Neon? Maybe you weren’t smiling right, but there it is, clutched in their firm grasp, is a bear. You look disgruntled and trudge back to the counter where you’ll complain for another hour how everyone sucks but you and you need a peanut butter cookie. Now.

It’s home time and the car in front of you seems to be driving eratically. Maybe the individual is drunk? Slightly concerned you decide it would be best to hurry ahead of them and try to get on a different street. While passing you take a quick glance into their vehicle, hoping to catch a glimpse of their particular poison when, once again, you are faced with a bear. The driver is too busy playing with the little thing to hold onto the wheel. It’s a crucial component to driving a car, but the gentleman next to you believes that he is able to transcend this necessity and progress into some sort of driving Nirvana requiring him only to be sitting in the car and feel good about himself in order to successfully and safely arrive at his destination.










GET OFF YOUR CELLPHONE!!! FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS GOOD AND PURE YOU ARE NOT THAT IMPORTANT AND SOCIETY MANAGED TO SURVIVE FINE WITHOUT IT FOR SEVERAL MILLENIA. THE WORLD WILL NOT GO TO THE CRAPPER IF YOU DON’T CALL YOUR WIFE AND LET HER KNOW YOU’LL BE FIVE MINUTES LATE FOR SUPPER. AUGH!!! HANG UP!!! NOW!!!