In the 2nd grade Mrs. Stanton gave us a neat
assignment. We were to come up with an
idea for an invention, draw it, and speak about it. I love(d) things like that. It gets the gerbil in my head moving that
wheel and thoughts start filling my head with possibilities. Initially I’ll normally reach for the moon,
but will come back down to Earth and be more practical. This was no exception.
The thing with inventions is you identify a problem and you
seek a solution. Then you think of how
to design it, how to manufacture it, how to market it. Obviously in 2nd grade we didn’t
really tackle all that. I kind of did
though. I mean, I wanted to be realistic. As if I were going to actually build my invention,
not just draw it.
Some kids “invented’ a robot that did homework. Others a
robot that mowed the lawn. And others designed
robots that cleaned their rooms or kept annoying siblings away. A lot of robots
were invented in my class. Me? I didn’t know how to make a robot. I wasn’t an engineer. Hell, I couldn’t even color inside
the lines. My invention was useful and
something I actually could make. And it
solved a problem.
My invention was called Roller Buddy 2000. I don’t know why, but all electronic stuff
had to be “2000”. I didn’t want to make
waves, so the RB2000 was my thing. It
was a remote-controlled car with a baseball mitt attached to it. I would be able to drive it to me from the other
side of the room for an on-demand high-five.
It was for when you didn’t have a friend and needed to feel good about
yourself. If you were lonely.
I had never really had a good friend. In the third grade I’d make a best friend,
Mathew, but his family were missionaries visiting town from Zambia. He’d leave after the school year. Billy would be my best friend for a year or so next, but he’d leave too. Then Bryce
for a couple years and then we’d grow apart.
Outside of best friends though, I’d never really have more than two or
three friends at a time. Ever. Even today, outside my family and friendly
coworkers, I don’t really have ANY friends.
That’s okay with me I guess. I
mean, I wish it weren’t the case, but my wife and kids give me plenty of love
and companionship. I’m certainly missing
something but there are no holes in my life I’m really seeking to fill.
So, I was a 2nd
grader that was lonely. I had a sister four
years older than me. My mom just had my
little brother who was eight years younger than me. And I had no friends. I didn’t think anything about it either. If I was older I would have been too embarrassed
to present that as my problem and solution.
At that age I was honest and knew no shame. I’m sure my classmates saw it as dumb. I wasn’t fixing a big problem. I was getting a high-five. Did Mrs. Stanton think me sad? Did she think me practical? Or did she think me small-time? A non-dreamer? I didn’t care what she thought at this
point. She was on my shit list. I liked the assignment but hated the
teacher. Maybe I should have “invented”
a robot to teach 2nd grade?
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