REALITY IS THE BEST FANTASY OF ALL

For all us, and especially for children, there is a realm beyond reality. Fantasy is a charming and necessary plane of existence often filled with abundant contradictions, a place where things aren’t always what they seem, or perhaps things are exactly what they seem depending on what we search for. There are no fixed rules and someone else always picks up the tab. If you haven’t been there lately, it’s an interesting place to go, even if your vision isn’t 20/20.

Dressed in the same Batman costume he’d been wearing every day for a year, a beautiful dark-eyed little boy with a shock of unruly brown hair once asked me who I would like to be. His eyes twinkled in anticipation as he waited for my answer. My response was evasive for all I could think of was Cat Woman and I don’t have the body for her choice of clothing. I replied that I needed time to study the issue and I would get back to him.

Max forgot that I was unable to answer his question and, for awhile, I did too. And then one day he asked again. His inquiry stayed with me as the late summer days faded into a burnished gold autumn, and it was still with me as we marched into November and then plunged headlong into the holiday season. Here I was, on the basis of a three minute shared communication with a young man not yet six, wondering who I would like to be when I grew up.

Thus, the fantasy begin. The choices were endless: Did I want to step into the President’s shoes? Perhaps Cindy Crawford for an evening? What about Tolstoy? Mr. Rogers? Snoop Doggy Dog? Perhaps Ghandi or Sister Theresa? And then there was the Pope and F.Scott Fitzgerald and Jackie Kennedy and Dr. Martin Luther King. Dan Rather? Mike Tyson or Janet Reno? It seemed unlikely I that I would find anyone suitable for the fantasy...and then I found her, opposite an article in an old Woman’s Day Magazine titled, "I Lost 193 Pounds and It Changed my Life.".

I wanted to be Autumn Glory Barbie!

Now, according to this advertisement, Autumn Glory Barbie "forever captures the majesty of autumn with its vibrant colors and regal hues...Barbie shimmers in hues of copper and auburn, adorned with fall leaves and accented with hints of purple and gold. Her gown flows around her like an autumn breeze. Her long auburn hair and dark wine hat add the final touch...," What more could a girl want?

Autumn Glory Lynne will be forever young, forever free of wrinkles, worry, and want. I’ll be a 100% fat-free-wide-eyed symbol of the American Dream with no present plans to commit emotional suttee over family or financial matters, relationships, employment opportunities or social change. I’ll never again have to strike a bargain with God, swearing to be a better human being, wife, mother, friend, daughter, sister, or neighbor. Never again will I be torn between joy and sorrow, nor will I experience misery, illness or pain. I’ll be catatonic, beautiful, and expensive to maintain...an authentic American showgirl.

Isn’t this nice? The lights are on but no one is home.

There is now before us the matter of "Ken". Ken is attired in his $2,000 white 007 dinner jacket from Lance of Boston, comfortably reclined in our half-acre living room, nursing his bloated, frat-boy ego. He is the perfect male specimen, free of outrageous male behavior that is beyond the comprehension of ordinary women. Ken would never consider a self-imposed exile to the locker room, the bar, the duck marsh, or the strip joint. The concept of urinating outdoors has never entered his mind. He doesn’t leave dirty socks in the hall, never misses his weekly manicure. His life is spent in a fixed state, free of the meandering stream of male consciousness and temporary neurological deficits generally attributed to mid-life crisises in men. I envy Ken’s attitude to the same degree to which he astonishes me. It’s almost as if he isn’t...well, human. This bothers me.

What else can one assume about Ken? There is the question of Ken’s political affiliation, his sexual preferences, his religious beliefs, and his moral and ethical landscape. Is he HIV negative? Anything less would be a hideous breach of social contract, a revelation that Ken’s personal behavior has been less than exemplary. There are no shifting parameters of human rights and choices in Ken’s life. He is perfect...yet as one treads deeper into the fantasy, we are left in the untenable position of having to question such extravagant perfection. Is Ken a WASP? Agnostic? Is he a closeted gay? Republican? Does he lie? Is he intellectually or morally bankrupt? To what personal black depths would Ken sink?

In a child’s world, filled with glamorous dolls dressed in glitzy gowns and expensive male evening wear, everything is all right and that is how it should be. He’s all right; she’s all right; we’re all all right. Everything is fine; he’s fine; she’s fine; we’re all fine. Now smile for the camera, Barbie. Say "cheese", Ken. Barbie and Ken will never be catapulted in the high power, heavy league... marriage, family, mortgages, taxes, and banks charging interest rates that could finance a space shuttle launch. She’ll never be divorced nor will she be a statistic. He’ll never be sick, tired, or discouraged. Her waistline will always be the same; he’ll never need reading glasses. Ken will never experience a sudden intolerance for caffeine or an addiction to alcohol. Nor will there be any challenges... but neither will there be any victories. Neither will experience human changes that pile up like driftwood, forcing the current of one’s life in strange and exciting new directions. They’ll never experience love or passion, tolerance, patience, or gratitude. Barbie and Ken will never be forced to remember the things in life they’d like to forget, but neither will they be able to cherish all of the wonderful things in life worthy of rememberance.

Are you starting to get the hang of it?

A wise man once said, "If you have to ask the price, you can’t afford it". The cost of being an Autumn Glory Barbie is too high, especially if I have to pay the bill. Perhaps someday I’ll explain to this charming, inquisitive child that not all childhood questions can be answered, and that those that can require a great amount of thought. Someday Max will understand that reality is the best fantasy of all.

This is a reprint from An American Dream Anthology published in 1996