column - Thomas and friends

Whatever happened to Thomas?

We used to spend hours together with my Brio railroad set, saving the wooden townsfolk from imminent starvation with the help of a roguish outlaw train (that is, an outlaw guilty of defying the laws of physics by jumping directly off the tracks in a mad dash to the town square). We used to go door to door on Halloween, blowing our train whistles incessantly until the neighbors would shoo us away with extra packets of Skittles. I can barely remember a day in my childhood when Thomas wasn’t by my side; we crossed so many bridges together – literally and figuratively.

So uh, how do you like it in my closet, Thomas?

Toy Story 3 is a brilliant movie. Almost everyone I’ve asked has loved the movie, from my parents to classmates, and for good reason. To most of us, the storybook ending did it for us and our handkerchiefs: it was the perfect ending to such an emotional ride.

Afterwards, I couldn’t help but think of all my friends when I was still a puny kid in elementary school (by friends, I mean toys.) Sure, I felt pretty bubbly inside as I left the movie theater. But at the same time, I felt this strange feeling of guilt.

It must have been good old Thomas the Tank Engine yelling at me through his cardboard box in the closet.

It’s easy to say that kids have to outgrow their toys at some point in their lives, and that’s certainly true. Who cares about their old Barbie Dolls anyway? I know I don’t. There is a reason that toys have age recommendations on them – certain toys just don’t hold any appeal once we get older. As time passes, toys often lose their novelty and just aren’t cool anymore.

Still, isn’t it a bit intriguing that we forget and abandon our toys when we feel it is no longer cool to have them around?

Because even though we’re talking about toys, isn’t the same true for our real friends? Let’s be honest; by now, most of us have already changed our group of friends at least once in our lifetime, and in the process we have disassociated ourselves from old friends, no matter how close we once were to them.
But let me be clear: in no way am I a proponent of staying the course on a burning ship. To be honest, sometimes it’s advantageous to distance ourselves from our past. Many friendships are just not meant to last, for people inevitably change. Personally, I know I’ve since grown apart from most of my elementary school friends. People change. Life moves on.

Maybe that’s the whole point of the Toy Story trilogy: enjoy a good friendship while you can, but never be afraid to let go, as all good things must eventually come to an end.

And so too must this column end.