Assemblage

One of the prizes I won the other night at a trivia night was a little Lego set. I hadn't touched Legos in years and years, so it seemed neat to get to play with them again for, as they say, old time's sake. I couldn't help myself, and opened up the package. It was a Star Trek-themed set, and I reflected on the sort of stuff I'd had when I was a kid. I don't remember having too many custom sets. I seemed to have very general legos with which I made things using my imagination. I even made Star Trek ships, but I had to improvise.

There was no improvising necessary with this kit, nor did improvising seem all that possible. In following the instructions pictorial, I watched myself assemble the thing from outside myself. I looked more like an aggrieved father making it for his child than the child I was when I last played with Legos. Let me stress that my father never got involved with those, though he did have a substantial role in making my model car and other projects.

Indeed, I cursed and grumbled all through the assembling of the kit, complaining that the instructional pictures were ordered in an illogical fashion, that the decals were difficult to apply, that the stand meant to hold the ship aloft made no sense, that the completed ship was overly fragile, that the Kirk and Spock figures depicted on the box were not included, and lastly that it did not greatly resemble the ship from the movie. That ship was obscure enough that it made little sense to make a toy out of it.

Still, the thing is kind of neat. If I had my old Legos on hand, I'd probably have gotten them out by now to see if I could revive the old pleasure of making something new out of them. It's probably for the best that I do not still have those Legos. As I often remind myself and others, you can't go home again. I don't recall quite where that saying might have originated. I remember reading something about Connie Chung saying it, but I bet it wasn't her first. In any case, I can see all too clearly already that the pleasure of playing with Legos isn't there for me in the same way anymore. It may be that something like it could be there someday if I have children, but I'll never be the child with them again.