On the first of many lunches with Tom Hanks, I would have to start with the Toy Story series. Ten years ago it would have started with the Meg Ryan trilogy, but since I’ve become a mother, I finally got sucked into the world of Woody and Buzz.
First, how wonderful to have characters named after a stage of arousal and a stage of intoxication to inspire children. Obviously, those are nods to the parents to give them a chuckle. My husband and I look ahead to when our sons are older and will finally get the joke. “Yes, when you were younger, Daddy and I had to not laugh when you said you were going to sleep with your Woody and a Buzz.” These are future moments of laughter for our family that we can’t wait to experience.
Like most children who have seen these movies, our sons related to Andy’s sense of play and embraced all of the toys. They have a Toy Story bin. They have some of the actual toys (Woody, Buzz, Slinky Dog, and Mr. & Mrs. Potato Head), but as they are 12 pound actors, they improvised the characters they didn’t have. When they were four and two, they added the “Little Green Men” using these alien-like toys from a happy meal. They didn’t have a “Mr. Spell” so they used another toy that was the same shape and played music when the buttons were pressed. For “RC,” they used a remote control police car till they got a real “RC.” “Rex” was originally played by a T-Rex they already had and was eventually joined by an authentic “Rex.” Hours have passed playing Toy Story. They even asked us to get a recliner so they could send Woody into space like Andy did. We told them to improvise.
And like in the movies, toys have come and gone already in their young lives, but the Toy Story bin never leaves our sons’ rooms. One of them always has it tucked somewhere. “Diego” and “Dora” have been packed away, The Backyardigans are now a closely guarded secret, and The Rubbadubbers went away long ago. Toy Story stays.
I cry every time I watch any of the Toy Story movies. Actually, I cry at any Pixar film (damn them…bloody Pixar making me cry at cartoons…not just quietly misting up, but full out bawling). The boys are especially fond of TS3 at the moment and became a bit worried today as I cried again watching it. They felt a little better when I clarified they were happy tears, but I think my oldest may have started to understand why TS3 gets me going from the opening scenes.
First, I have those videos of my sons. They’ve heard me say “Pretend I’m not here” and then film them as they play. They know their rooms are bursting at the seams because it’s harder on me than on them to pack away their toys. Second, I work at a university. I’m one of the people that welcomes “Andy” every September. I watch as the parents say their goodbyes to their babies’ childhoods. And I know only too soon my sons will be “Andy,” all grown up and thanking their toys for being unconditional friends.
Thus, at my lunch with Tom Hanks, I would thank him for helping to reinvigorate the animated film industry. I would thank him for creating a character that has taught my sons so many good traits. I would thank him for helping my sons stay young a little bit longer and for creating a touchstone they can return to later when they need to reconnect with their childhoods. I would say thank you for a toy, an action figure and a child’s plaything.
ohbloodyhell8 