This morning on FirstNews, in addition to welcoming back the Achilles Tendon-challenged Natalie with her new purple cast, we had a story about a perfume designed to take us back to childhood. I think it was called Eau de Play-Doh...yes, it smells like Play-Doh. I've read that smells and odors are the best memory triggers of all. For example, you get a little sniff of cinnamon and think of Grandma's house. In my case, exhaust fumes remind me of the times my family accidentally left me at Stuckey's out on the highway...at least, they said it was accidentally. Fool me once shame on you, fool me eight times, shame on me. Or, the smell of a rain-soaked dog reminds me of one of my big brothers.

But, more than those happy, odor-induced remembrances, the Play-Doh story made me think of all the toys that were hot when I was a kid. Some still are, like Play-Doh...Silly Putty...Slinky. My Play-Doh history is a little spotty. No matter how I tried to create all the cool things shown in the commercials and on the box, I always ended up with a gray blob. Supposed to be a doggy...looked like a moon-rock. Supposed to be a sports car...looked like a moon-rock. Supposed to be a pizza with all the toppings...looked like a moon-rock with pepperoni and extra-cheese. My own kids have always loved Play-Doh and I have a funny story about my two older boys and the stuff but I can't really tell it here...if I ever speak to a group you're a part of, you can ask me to tell it...then it will be your fault. It is funny but may not be considered appropriate for a luncheon address. That's all I'm saying.

Growing up, my friends and I built things out of Lincoln Logs not Legos. Once, when I was about four, I was building a house out of Lincoln Logs...that was the only thing I could really create and it usually ended up looking like what some realtors would call a "fixer-upper." Friends of my folks were visiting with their little dog. The dog was not completely house-trained and, in retrospect, may not have liked me very much. Somehow, as I was building my sad shack, I discovered a couple extra "Logs." When my Mom came upon my construction project, she immediately got the dog, named Dropsie, appropriately enough, out the door and, using thick Playtex gloves, lifted me into the shower for a scrubbing and detoxification like that scene in Silkwood.

Speaking of Lincoln, the new book about him, Team of Rivals, is terrific. I know, it seems like an odd spot for a book recommendation but I really thought I needed to raise the intellectual level of discourse after that last story.

Just a word about Legos, while they were not really part of my generation's playthings, my kids have had tons of them over the years. The name Lego is based on the Danish phrase leg godt which means
"play well." If you've ever been taking a glass of water to your son or daughter, in the dark, barefoot and stepped on a Lego, you may have said some other words that sounded vaguely like Danish, but "play well" would not be the sentiment.

Silly Putty was always fun until it was banned from our house. Remember how you could actually lift pictures and comics from the paper with the putty? One of my brothers would always do that with the Sears ads in the paper...just the parts featuring underwear...and then leave it sitting on the kitchen counter. Eventually, my parents had had enough. (Etch-a-sketch vanished, too, after someone mastered the art of writing naughty words with it. If only a house full of boys would use all that energy for good rather than evil!)

Finally, I never could get that Slinky to go all the way down the stairs like the little show-off in the commercial. As my frustration mounted, a helping hand was offered. This person decided to demonstrate how it would work in terms of physics by using me as the Slinky. The only thing I remember clearly about what happened next is the lingering aroma of wet dog. Oh, brother.