Homoeroticism in Children's Toys and Halloween Costumes

Subtitled: The Parker Brothers weren't really Brothers (wink, wink)

Dedicated to the late Jerry Falwell and the late Tinky Winky, Linked together for eternity

Sub-heading, Not so easy being the Red One Either

When she was 3, my eldest chose to be a Teletubbie for Halloween. This happened to be the fall that the leader of the extreme religious right chose to launch an all out war on Tinky Winky of the Teletubbies for being secretly homosexual and trying to covert his impressionable viewership to same-sex orientation by serving them tainted Tubbie Tustard (That's tubbie Custard for my friends who did not reproduce between 1996 and 2005--one of the many disgusting concoctions that kids love to eat because its a gross texture and unnatural color, like yogurt in a squeeze tube and silly putty).

Roughly 2 hours after the sex scandal broke but days before we read a paper or watched a newscast, we purchased a red Teletubbie costume from Target. Fortunately our costume was Po, not Tinky Winky, flaming purple, the code color for the dark side. We can probably thank the crack retail team of Target employees (who suspiciously have adopted RED as their trademark color) who pulled the offending Tubbie from the shelves until the media could tell us to make up our own minds about whether it would be safe to dress our child like an (allegedly) but (obviously) gay puppet.

Anyway, being red, we figured we were in the clear, controversy-wise. We brought my then only child to her grandparents house for Trick or Treat where my sweet mother in law was excited that she was one of the "Tele-tubeez" and my father in law, always faithful to Larry King live, asked "She's not the gay one is she?"

Trying to avoid being put on the spot, I told him that Po was a pretend character, or a puppet, I think, like Ernie and Bert?? and therefore really neither gay nor straight thinking this would end it right here. His response was "yeah, but one of them is gay."

So I said that it wasn't Po, the red one, that was being targeted and that I can almost assure you that Po's puppet yearnings were directed to the right kind of TeleTUBBIE, not Tubey.

Then, my child was allowed to Trick and Treat as she wished.

Flash forward eight years, two more kids. Jerry Falwell, no longer with us, disgraced by his own puppet yearnings. Tinky Winky, canceled due to low viewership, not just referring to the height of his target market, but the fact that no one was watching him ala the Ellen show after its star announced her puppet yearnings to Oprah, who smartly chose to stay closeted and now controls the Universe. (film credit The Color Purple anyone???) The red Po costume still hangs in my closet, unworn, always in the shadow of his flashier friend Tinky Winky. My other two kids never wanted to even try it on. My son was only into the Power Rangers and the smart people at Power Rangers were quick to pull the plug on the Purple One after the Tinky Winky scandal, launched the Green One instead, then they created global warming. Kudos to that crack marketing team. My other daughter wants to be "dat polka dot dog again" so we just appreciate not having to purchase a costume for her three years running.

Whatever my own beliefs were on the Tubby Scandal of '00, and I can't remember what Larry King told me what those beliefs were, I credit Jerry Falwell with opening my eyes to the blatant Gay-gang symbols that have been flashing all over childhood until he blew the whistle. Also, thanks to CNN and their continuous screen crawlers that alerted the world to Falwell's discovery. Thanks to all for helping me stay true to my paranoia-infused roots and hyper vigilant for coded Gay Gang symbols.

For today, I'm going to just dissect Candy Land because Curious George is pretty self explanatory and don't even get me started on Professor Plum. For my friends who have kids, you can skip the next two paragraphs. (I know, straight breeders do get all the perks!!)

For my childless friends, Candy Land is probably the first game most kids can play. The box recommends the game for children ages 3-6, No Reading necessary to play. Don't you wish my blog had the same consideration?

The object is to make it to the Candy Castle first by advancing your plastic little dude, (family vernacular for playing piece) based on the color square of the game card you draw. It should be noted here that the playing board is bursting with purple squares, but no purple dudes so it doesn't matter what color dude you are. There are also "special cards" and "special short cuts" that allow you to take some short cuts to the Candy Castle, but wait, "special cards" can also bounce you back when you are one card from Kid Nirvana at the Candy Castle.

Note to conspiracy theory friends: Gay people often think they are "special" and can cut in front of you at a bar just because they know Queen Frostine and Princess Lolly, hands down, the two best cards in the deck.

Friends with children jump back in and back me up on this next part: What the box doesn't tell you is that if the cards are stacked against you, the duration of this game can last until your 3 year old graduates from 8th grade if you don't take serious steps to stack the deck. I strongly recommending placing Mr. Mint and Jolly the Gumdrop at the beginning of the deck, don't care who draws it.

Note to my bookmaking friends, scratch that, relatives: It is unethical to both stack the Candy Land deck and offer Vegas odds on the outcome of that game. You can either offer a point spread and take wagers or stack the deck, you may not do both.

Note to parents worried about self esteem and cheating at games:
A. you must be a first time parent with one child who probably needs his bubble wrap swaddle loosened
2. We're just trying to control the game duration here, not give ourselves a winning edge, but it is still best to refrain from offering your child the option "a friendly wager." See Note to the family bookies.

Another thing you Falwell followers want to watch out for is the best move occurs only 5 squares into the game and it is called the Rainbow Trail. Taking the this path provides that you will lop 25% off of your journey to the Castle provided you are not a dummy and forgot to stack the deck letting Mr. Mint kick your little dude back to start.

Note to conspiracy theory friends: Most gay people are not dummies and probably never forget to stack the deck because they usually don't have children who have eaten away at every last brain cell they own.

There is another "short cut" for straight people called the "Gumdrop Pass" that is not as good as it only takes about 12 squares off your jihad to the Castle. Also the square marking the entrance is ambiguous but probably purple, because most gay people think that deep down, everyone is like them anyway. Think of the "Gumdrop Pass" as the Olive Garden of Candy Land. Yes, there is a parking lot, there is food, you can get a drink, but no matter the perks, you're still stuck in Brookfield when all the fun people are in Walker's Point.

Note to Paranoid friends and family re: Rainbow Trail vs. Gumdrop Pass: It is a well known fact that the first rule of real estate is always "follow the gays" because they always get all the best locations. Go to the most fun part of any metropolitan area and you will see so many gay people that they are stacked up like cord wood while straight people are forced to cluster in the suburbs like Brookfield where maybe the schools are better but there is no ethnic food and the juke box sucks and there is no one here that knows how to shake an appletini.

Another special card is Princess Lolly. Now, some of you might think she is just "cute" and would be fun to talk to, but she is so obviously a drag queen that you know she's out there tricking unsuspecting simple folk from Brookfield left and right.

One character on the board doesn't have a corresponding card. His name is Lord Licorice and if he isn't a dead ringer for Oscar Wilde, I don't know who is. Oscar Wilde, a prominent gay writer and Bologna inventor, was known for showing up at gay bars, high on absinthe and nitrates (ingredients in Licorice and lunch meats), and without his proper ID.

Now, turn your focus to the actual playing tokens, for my purposes, little dudes. None of them are purple and they wear bow ties, not ascots, so far, so good. However, if your little dude has to "share a square" (ugly flashback to toilet paper rules here, see previous blog) the little dudes appear to be holding hands.

Now, what most kids would say is "look, they holding hands!"

Note to childless friends: Helping verbs like "are" don't figure prominently into 3 year old conversation, nor do possessive pronouns leading to a lot of "wake up, it's you turn, Mommy."

In Little Kid Land, holding hands often leads to "let's make them kiss!" Which, as a parent, puts you at the Crossroads where blues legend Robert Johnson sold his soul to Jerry Falwell, immortalized in the movie starring Ralph Macchio. Your choices are:

1. Let the little dudes kiss, for gosh sakes they can't even put their arms down what's the worst that can happen?
2. Say "no honey, little dudes never kiss or touch each other in any way unless they are lit at a sporting event when they openly partake in butt slapping and high fiving."
C. Say "why don't we just have the little dudes high five each other and slap each other's butt?"
4. Say hey look how hot Queen Frostine is?

Whatever path you choose, I'm sure the media can tell you if you were right. We usually just let the little dudes kiss and get married in the Candy Castle, but we also associated our child with a puppet show of suspicious intent and we often forget to stack the deck in our favor leading many of our Candy Land tournaments to go longer than my blog.