Stress Relief

Creature of habit: most Sunday mornings, I bicycle up to the Farmer's Market on Main Street in Santa Monica, pick up an almond croissant or other goodie from the Bread Man, bike to the Newstand, purchase the Sunday NY and the LA Times, and promptly visit my friend the garbage can by the entrance to a nearby parking lot, so that I can dispose of 85% of the LA Times.

This morning as I was throwing away section after section (note to the politically correct: parts that I do read end up in the recycle bin back at my place), the man who runs the parking lot, having perhaps seen me perform this ritual before, struck up a conversation.  "A lot of news you don't want to read," he said.  "Well, it's mostly bad," said I. 

We both agreed that the news wasn't likely to get any better, and made the logical segue into how civilization's health wasn't looking good.  Parking Lot Man opined that people weren't evolving, noting that in ancient times, when people had disagreements, they tended to cut off each other's heads, and that despite 21st century technology, these days when people had disagreements...

Because our heads were still attached, we shook them a bit, and I waxed philosophical in parting.  "All you can do is try to keep your sense of humor," I offered, we both laughed, and I biked home for paper-reading with Harry Shearer (on the radio) and croissant (w/ coffee).  In the NY Times I came upon an article that really said hello to me, especially in the light of Conversation With Parking Lot Man (which could be cheaply made, BTW, since the only necessary props are newspaper and a garbage can; bicycle optional).

Entitled Comedy, With a Twist, the article (nicely written by David Colman) explains that one of Broadway playwright Douglas Carter Beane's favorite possessions is a tin wind-up toy, the great old standby, Duck on Bike.  I have one of those, I immediately thought, and GMTA! (Great Minds Think Alike) and I bet I got mine before he got his.

Duck on Bike consists of a nicely painted duck seated on a tricycle low-rider and wearing, for reasons that perhaps only some grad student in philosophy might explicate, a propeller hat (subject for thesis: ducks fly, don't they? so why would one need...? etc.).  When you wind up the duck and set him on the floor, he pedals madly in a circle, while the propeller blades spin so quickly they become a colorful blur.  Here are Colman and Beane on the effect:

Whether due to its largely immobile body (only the knees and the hat-copter blades really move, the bike being rear-wheel-drive) or its demented, glazed expression (either cheeriness, blithe indifference or frantic anxiety, it is hard to say), the effect is fairly transcendent.

  “It invariably makes me smile,” Beane said. “He looks happy, but deranged. There’s a fear lurking in his eyes. It’s not a placid face. And he has great posture...”  And its madly rushing but inevitably circular path, “reminds you that all toil is folly,” he said.  “When you’re older, we call that a career.”

The article's tacit message is that, given the stress and anxiety of the writing life (and/or hold-onto-your-head life in general), the possession of the proper toy to make one laugh is an absolute necessity.

Well, I am all over this idea.  I recently presented a date (who happens to be a writer) with, in lieu of flowers, a wind-up piece of shrimp sushi (plastic), which travels across a tapletop with similar crazed velocity.  She laughed, and my work there was done.

I believe writers in particular need a stress-reliever toy, since as any writer knows, it is not as easy as it looks, folks, and one perilous pitfall of the profession is a propensity (along with superfluous alliteration) To Take One's Work Too Seriously.  Everyone will have their own idiosyncratic choice in this arena.  The Elephant Bike may appeal to some.  The person who would want to own the Clown Drummer (one shudders to even look at the thing) is not someone I'd want to meet in a dark alley.

 

I'm going to go public and share with you now my longtime favored Anti-Stress Toy of choice (my Duck on Bike -- purchased perhaps when Douglas Carter Beane was still playing with toys in short pants -- is simply part of a general toy collection).  The thing I like to play with in the midst of my labors when I feel my head may explode is a guy whose head is designed to do nearly that.

Meet the fabulous MARTIAN POPPING THING.  Made of wonderfully pliable rubber, this chubby little fella ("extra plump!" boasts the packaging) is a paradigm of stress-relieving simplicity.  You squeeze it and its big red ears pop out.  Squeeze even harder, and its blue eyes and red nose bulge and protrude, too.

Who could ask for anything more?

Again, you may prefer squeezing a vintage TV animal character, or (for the Eastern European intellectual) prefer mauling the wind out of a female Russian cosmonaut, but in my book, the Martian Popping Thing reigns supreme.  It costs a mere nine bucks (made in Taiwan, exclusively for Accoutrements, and I get mine from that great Homeworks store in Santa Monica).  I routinely give it as a gift to fellow writers (and occasional civilians), who are without fail excited and edified to possess one, especially since -- GMTA! Bonus Points -- as I inform them, I once saw a magazine photo of Steven Spielberg's office desk, and sitting on top of his computer screen was none other than the Martian Popping Thing. 

Dig it!  You, too, can be 6 degrees-connected to His Steven-ness, via owning your own MPT.  But more importantly, in seeing your own stress and anxiety represented in a face that mirrors and magnifies it to painfully comedic proportions, I believe you'll feel the relief you need at that critical point in the day where words and/or civilization itself hath failed you.

So don't say I never did you any favors.

   

Comments

[E.C. Henry]

The Martain Popping Thing sounds like a winner! And since Steven's got one too, it's practically gospel.

I have two stress relieving toys. 1) my buddy Chimpy (a monkey doll with an attitude) 2) my mom.

Chimpy likes to dance, punch and kick me. Still, most days he sits quiety atop my peg board and watches me type. When he gets bored, or I'm writing like a putz, Chimpy likes to dance on my keyboard or kick me in the gut. But this is all done in good taste -- at least according to him.

Given Chimpy's disposition, my mom is my preferred stress relief. She laughs at my unfunny jokes in the morning, and encouages me when things aren't going well.

Moral of the story: make sure your stress relief toy doesn't have altererior motives, and don't be afraid to have a real HUMAN BEING be your stress relief.

- E.C. Henry from Bonney Lake, WA

[brooke]

I knew you were the man when I noticed you had Mr. Winkle linked on your site. Just looking at him makes me smile. However, now you are just perfection. Marry me.

[binnie]

I prefer flowers.

[kristen]

I need one of those! I just got The Writers Store catalogue in the mail and am thinking of picking up that set of Horrified B-Movie Victims, and the Literary Action Figures of Jane Austen and Edgar Allen Poe, so I can arrange them in mini 3-D storyboards around my desk. That's all well and good for the actual creating, but Jane and Edgar aren't very squeezable.

[sillypants]

I too strive to keep it light. Loved your post. thanks so much. If you want to check out a lighthearted site please come visit at my new spot sillypants.com. I'd love to link to your site too. Cool?

[debbieb]

Human stress-relief toys are the best! I agree with E.C. Everybody should have at least one!

But I am taking a fancy to MPT.

And Brooke...Billy can't marry you...he's sharing my bed after all.

Writer hugs to all of the wonderful writers here. May you always find relief for your stress!

[Miriam Paschal]

I have a worry spider. She's fairly new, so she's the latest in a long line of toys.

I know she's a female because she has egg sacs. When I squeeze her, various parts of her body bulge out. Nothing on her was made to specifically bulge; it's just where I happen to be holding her.

She's filled with teeny tiny white styrofoam balls, or pellets, that give her a nice texture. They also look like little eggs when her body bulges out and becomes transparent.

[Beth Ciotta]

Love the duck. Want that duck. ;) Your post made me smile, Billy. Nice way to start the morning. The stress-reliever toy sitting on my desk is Muttley. At a mere touch his body wobbles and you can almost hear that famous snicker. Sometimes he's laughing with me--"I can't believe you just wrote that." And sometimes--when I'm wrestling with a scene-- he's got that taunting smirk going on, the one that inspires me to kick butt. "I'll show you, Muttley." Yes, I sometimes talk to a wobbly-headed plastic toy. Maybe I'm losing it. Maybe I need that MPT. ;)

[mernitman]

EC: Glad to hear Chimpy is the one that punches you and kicks you, as opposed to Mom.

Brooke: I believe we ARE married, in an alternate universe...

Binnie the Droll!

Kristen: Not squeezable, true, but amusing -- I got Jane as a gift for my Story Editor, and I had soon the pleasure of seeing its happy effect.

SillyPants: I look forward to perusing your site and in the meantime feel free to link away.

DebbieB, see Brooke note above.

Miriam, good to hear of a benignly squeezable spider, as the real ones do in fact worry me.

Beth, talking to a wobble-headed plastic toy just seems par for the course re: your average writer's lunacy...

[debbieb]

What about sex as the best stress relief!

I was just watching Cameron Diaz and Kate Winslet in an NBC interview and they said sex was their stress relief.

This reinforces my belief that a human stress relief toy is a very wonderful thing to have.

Thanks Billy for yet another thought-provoking post. This is my favorite place to come when I need inspiration to write the perfect rom com!

[Annie D]

I'd prefer the wind-up piece of shrimp sushi. And I don't even eat sushi.

Inspired move, Billy.

When I'm stressed, I squeeze my kitties -- gently, of course, until they purr.