Imaginary Friends

In the airport a couple weeks ago, I saw a boy carrying a Teddy Bear. I was envious. He carried it easily, clutching it close to his tummy. He clearly had a good friend there to see him through the chaos that is an airport.

He wasn’t a terribly young boy. I’d have guessed he was ten or so. Nor did he show any signs of being “special” or otherwise different in a way that would make it “okay” for him to carry a stuffed animal at his age. He had it, wasn’t embarrassed about it, and there really wasn’t anything else that needed to be said on the subject.

I envied him because I’d love to have a traveling companion like that for my trips. I actually do have two small stuffed animals who stow away in my luggage for longer trips. One is a Tasmanian Tiger I brought back from Tasmania. The other is a Scooby-Doo given to me by a friend’s children who figured I needed a Scooby-Doo.

Children are wise in this way. Having the wee beasties in a hotel room personalizes it. It gives me a sense of actually living in the room, not just being parked there for a bit. It might seem silly, but when you wake up in the middle of the night, in a strange hotel room, and you can’t remember where you are; it’s like being a kid again, waking up from a nightmare. That dislocation means you’re lost, and as a kid, if you’re lost, you’re doomed.

Seeing a couple of smiling faces means you’ve been found. Everything’s okay, and gonna get better.

But why not travel with a stuffed animal in full view, ready to be hugged, or to share a comment about something I see in my travels?

Well, most folks would consider that behavior psychotic. Despite what I do for a living, I actually do know the difference between real and make believe. Unlike the young man in the airport, however, I forget too easily that sometimes that difference really doesn’t matter much at all.

I saw the boy while on my way to a game convention (GameStorm), where I got to watch over 1000 attendees play all sorts of games. Some folks were in costume—and many more participated in the LARPing throughout the convention. In the little sliver of reality the convention carved out of the “real” world, people could wear what they wanted, pretend to be whomever they want to be, and do so with an abandon and freedom that most folks will never enjoy.

At conventions, I could wander around with a stuffed animal if I wanted to. But I don’t. At these shows I have other roles to play, and they constrain me. Not badly, mind you, but they do determine what I can and cannot do. If I’m talking about the religious right and their opposition to RPGs, or about Skeptical topics, or about the digital revolution in publishing; hauling around a stuffed animal would destroy my credibility.

Even at a convention, where folks would swear that the would never think less of someone for doing such a thing, they would. They couldn’t help it. We are simply and thoroughly conditioned to think that way by society.

Society—read the world of grown-ups—functions within a consensual reality that doesn’t allow for imaginary friends. It doesn’t accept that a Socratic dialogue conducted with a stuffed animal could be useful. It doesn’t even allow that such a thing could be sane. In fact, society dictates that it’s quite insane.

Maybe someday I will be brave enough not to care what others think, and haul a Teddy Bear around with me. Others will take a manifestation of that courage as a sign of senility. I think, however, it might be a sign of my actually have grown up enough to recapture the carefree joy of being a child, and the fearlessness that comes with it. And if society disagrees, so be it.

At least I’ll have a good friend with me, and we can laugh at society’s silliness all we want.