So, Google has on their page this morning that it's Art Clokey's, the creator of Gumby, birthday. My mind has since been flooded with some really fond memories since I saw that.
I would spend hours with ole Gumby and Pokey as a boy in imaginative adventures alone in my room in North Nashville. In comparison to the majority of my memories of that time in life, it is really nice to have a good one. But even this memory is a bit clouded because my play was more escape than play.
Such a very simple toy that gave me, a very upset boy, a way to get lost from what else would be going on in that house. Hidden away in my room or closet even making up all sorts of stories for Gumby and his pal to be the heroes of.
A few years ago I went down this Gumby memory trail and bought my children their own Gumby and Pokey. Sadly, in a world consumed with high tech gadgetry, they meant very little to them.
I swear, if I had them now, I'd go home tonight and play with them. Today I feel a bit like a breed of something that is slipping into extinction. Like a deep, slow moving river no one wants to drift down. But it's ok. For I have learned that all these things add up to something and in the end, His purposes for me will live themselves out. After all, it's about Him, not me.
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