Dolled Up, Fouled Up

I used to go to a lot of Dodgers games. My best estimate is that in the first three years I lived in LA, I went to something like 200 home games in person. That's a lot even for someone with season tickets such as the ones I had the use of. Consequently, I wound up with a lot of give-away items. I may have made mention of the many blankets, posters and little radios built only to bring in the station which then broadcasted games.

There were also the bobble-heads. There may have been more, but I'm presently looking at five on the table adjacent to my computer. There's Takashi Saito, Rafael Furcal, Tommy Lasorda and Russell Martin. I believe that only Lasorda is presently affiliated with the team. The rest are gone, and so are many pieces from these bobble-head doppelgangers. One is missing arms, another is missing the plaque he originally carried, and all are missing bits of fingers, I think.

I'm no sadist, if that's what you are beginning to think. It's all the moving that I have done. I first lived in Highland Park, and then had to move the dolls to North Hollywood. I then had to move them to Glendale, and then again to Burbank. Finally they came back to North Hollywood again. I have done my best to protect them each time, but there's just no way of ensuring absolute safety with one's dolls any more than there is with one's children. There will be losses.

Future decisions on where to reside do not rest very heavily on the well-being of those dolls, but it is something that I think about a little bit each time. Ultimately, you cannot get too invested in things, no matter how eerily they resemble a noted sports figure or how much hilarity ensues when you jostle their head to make it seem as if they are answering a yes-or-no question in a comical, unlikely fashion. You have to be willing to let your things get damaged, or else you are instead theirs.