Shrinky-Dinks, Strawberry Shortcake, and ’55 Chevy Trucks

Sometimes I wish I could be a shrinky-dink. Do you remember those pieces of plastic that we so painstakingly colored, put in the oven, and then spent the next 1 to 3 minutes praying for the damned thing not to curl up on itself? I mean I would love to shrink to twenty percent of my size and have for my only worry the desire not to curl up on myself.

Who was your favorite shrinky-dink? I think mine was Smurfette. I don’t really go for blondes as a rule. Generally, I prefer red heads like Strawberry Shortcake, but Smurfette was an exception. I think I loved her because she was the only woman in the village and had to put up with all those guys. I fantasized about her running away with Papa Smurf and leaving it all behind. Brainy would try to calculate a way to get her back. Vanity would stand there looking at himself in the mirror. Jokey would plant a bomb in their wedding present. Hefty would mis-build their house. But Smurfette would laugh and run her fingers through Papa’s beard. He would smile and they would open a bottle of champagne in celebration.smurfs_shrinky_dinks_unshrunk_pieces

If my favorite wasn’t Smurfette, it was Strawberry Shortcake. I think this is more accurate. I would have given anything to know someone like Strawberry Shortcake when I was little. There was a girl I knew in high school who we called Strawberry, but that was entirely different. That story should be saved for its own entry. With a parental advisory.

Anyway, they have changed Strawberry Shortcake and her friends—not for the better. All their names are different, representing more healthy lifestyle choices, and they took away Plum Pudding. Why? My opinion: Plum Pudding was smart, loved cats and owls, and was possibly a little queer (Plum Pudding started out as a boy!).

I fantasized about her running away with Strawberry Shortcake. I think they would listen to Tracy Chapman’s Fast Car or the Indigo Girls’ Power of Two as they drove away sitting close to each other in a 1955 Chevy Truck.55chevytruck2They would head down Route 66 to Los Angeles without looking back. They would wander up and down Venice Beach looking for shells. Maybe they would sleep on the beach or in the back of their truck in the parking lot under the Jim Morrison painted on the side of that building. Either way, Huckleberry Pie wasn’t part of the plan:

Now the parking lot is empty
Everyone’s gone someplace
I pick you up and in the trunk I’ve packed
A cooler and a two-day suitcase
Cause there’s a place we like to drive
Way out in the country
Five miles out of the city limit we’re singing
And your hand’s upon my knee…

6 responses to “Shrinky-Dinks, Strawberry Shortcake, and ’55 Chevy Trucks

  1. wasn’t Papa Smurf, Smurfette’s dad? ewww …

    My favorite shrinky dink was Spider Man but I generally don’t like comic book people so that’s a weird one for me to like. I think it’s because if he curled up he just looked like he was doing a super spidey move so it didn’t matter really. I hated the curling of those damn things. Now I’m pissed off remembering about how they ALWAYS did that!

  2. Papa Smurf wasn’t Smurfette’s dad. I don’t think he was anyway. If he was, erase that fantasy.

  3. Ah, but Huckleberry Pie had Pupcake, which is the best name for a dog EVER! 🙂

    My favorite was Crepe Suzette because she had a cool French accent.

  4. Papa Smurf was no one’s “daddy.” 🙂 He was the SUPREME SMURF! The ALL KNOWING. The HEAD OF THE TRIBE. The OLDEST…SMARTEST…but not the daddy. 🙂 Where would we be without the Pappy Smurfs of the world?

  5. how did the Smurf’s come to exist? Are they a metaphor for something? They always freaked me out. Gargamel was right to try to erradicate the little buggers. ***shivvvverrrr***

  6. I must have been deprived as a child because I have never heard of shrinky dinks before. I somehow feel this must be a sad thing because I loved Smurfs and Strawberry Shortcake.

What do you have to say about this post?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s