Thanks, Mr. Best

Ah, the grand obsession of my youth: G.I. Joe.


Hours. Days. Weeks. When childhood boredom set in, my G.I. Joes were always there.

It's very possible that Kung Fu Grip excited me more than the moon landing. When life-like hair arrived, my brother and I would, in a far-too-prescient manner, rub the backs of their heads on the driveway until they had realistic-looking bald spots.

I had the Training Center, the ATV, the helicopter, all the good stuff. Man, I was happily spoiled.

I try to hold on to that childlike ability to let go, believe fully in the moment. To take joy out of pure imagination. It helps with both acting and writing. If only it were as easy now as it was then.

Thanks for your post, Mr. Best, and for bringing me back there for a minute.