purple fish guts

Tuesday, April 17, 2007

The Colorful Plastic Tidal Wave

Mel posts of her daughter's despair (and her own compassion) when a favorite plastic ring was accidentally flushed down the toilet. Coincidentally, the Five Iron Frenzy song "Blue Comb '78" has been going through my head for the last few days. The fact is, kids lose things, and, at least in this household, Mom throws things out. The question is, how can we know what will be forgotten, and what will be memorialized in a song twenty years later?

I don't want my kids to mourn the loss of what is precious to them (even if it is junk to me). On the other hand, our house (and the girls' room) is simply too tiny to hold all of the treasures that come home from school, friend's houses, Grandma's house, ballet class, birthday parties, church, etc. Any suggestions from parents on how to stop the colorful plastic tidal wave would be appreciated.

FIVE IRON FRENZY
"Blue Comb '78"

Summer of 1978,
My sister and I in the back seat just wait.
We pass the time by making lines in the seat that we can't cross,
A thin line like dental floss.
She threw my new blue comb out the window,
somewhere on I-70.
Dad said, "I'm sorry, but we can't go back,
"We're never going back to get it.
It was the first comb I ever had.
Got it just that morning from my mom and my dad.
Light blue in color,
I could never find another comb like that, big and fat...

So tell me, have you seen my comb?
Last time I saw it, it was in her hands,
And then it was bouncing down the road.
It wasn't fancy, it wasn't brown,
But now it might be from lying on the ground.
So tell me, have you seen my comb?

Driving down the road in September,
I was only five but I still remember,
Where the highway turns at the bottom of the hill,
My parents both up front 'cause they loved each other still.
Maybe just a comb made of plastic,
Or an action of a sibling lacking couth,
But something that was thrown out that window,
Was the last great symbol of my youth.

Have you seen my comb?
Last time I saw it, it was in her hands,
And then it was bouncing down the road.
It wasn't fancy, it wasn't brown,
But now it might be from lying on the ground.
So tell me, have you seen my comb?