Legos

Visiting grandchildren is one of the true joys in life. Much of this delight comes because they are our children’s children. So much energy goes into raising children that we parents often fail to step back and enjoy the fruits of our labor. The latter stages of the process are challenging when we must put the protocols into place required for adult friendship. Parents of adult children are often like artists that continuously want to fuss with their work long past its completion. Fortunately, grandchildren are the most effective antidote to this troublesome inclination. After all, how could we have such perfect grandchildren if we hadn’t done something right?

However, there is an issue with visiting grandchildren in Korea. The problem arises from the perfect storm between our grandchildren’s favorite toy and Korean tradition. In Korea, we always leave shoes in the entryway. This tradition is a cultural mandate that ranks up there with avoiding public flatulence. However, if you fail to pack a pair of well-armored slippers, you risk a long-term relationship with your podiatrist. Inadvertently today’s grandchildren universally lay a minefield with a product called Legos. Stepping on a 2×8 brick with bare feet isn’t the same as triggering a Claymore mine, but the pain level can leave permanent psychic scarring, especially when you’re trying to watch your language in front of the grandchildren. 

The hazardous nature of this colorful plastic is only the tip of the iceberg of the massive cultural wave generated by this fantastic toy. The more obtuse members of my generation will argue that Legos are a sissy solution to the apparent need for children to engage in constructive play. After all, we had no-nonsense toys like Erector sets that required genuine tools. Or Lincoln Logs that didn’t actually need a chainsaw, but you felt like one would have helped. However, it is undeniable that Legos represent a noticeable advance in building toys. Even when menacing carpets, Legos are considerably safer than the knife-shaped, sharp-edged components of an Erector set, not to mention the easily swallowed nuts and bolts historically used as bait for younger siblings.

Indeed, Lego’s overwhelming entrepreneurial success may qualify as one of the world’s great wonders. Our adult children’s generation might take an interest in Lincoln logs or an Erector set at a garage sale, attempting to connect with us ancients. Still, they readily spend thousands on the ever-burgeoning assortment of Lego innovations. No box office smash ever goes unillustrated by a new line of Legos. It may be the most ingenious integration of design and marketing on the planet. And it does not stop with capitalizing on movie swag. Legos have become stars in their own feature-length films. Cleverly written scripts tickle parents with humorous entertainment floating above their children’s total fascination with toys that walk, talk, and save the universe.

The Lego Group, a privately held company based in Billund, Denmark, has convinced the world that the right combination of Lego blocks can model anything. As each subsequent generation has come to share that conviction, Danish dominance of the modern toy market has grown remarkably. Sometimes I wonder what the average Dane thinks about these developments. There was a day when tourists went to Denmark to see beautiful nordic lowlands with idyllic farms. Now the top destination for every traveler is to visit Legoland.

It would be a mistake to consider the Lego phenomenon without mentioning Minecraft. Minecraft is a blockbusting video game modeling a reality composed entirely of Lego-like pieces. Lego-like characters chop down Lego-like trees, swim in Lego-like lakes, and climb Lego-like mountains. The central purpose of Minecraft is to disassemble the Lego-like elements of the Lego-like world and reconfigure them into a new Lego-like reality. For many, it’s a zero-sum nirvana, but it makes me dizzy when I try to play. It interests me that Mojang, the maker of this popular video game, was negotiating a joint venture with Lego early in the development process. But unable to agree, the deal fell through, and they went their separate ways.

Ironically, Lego is now building a product line based on Minecraft. This venture seems to create a Möbius loop where Lego ends up modeling their new set on something that initially modeled itself on Legos in the first place. But everyone seems happy, probably because they are all making money hand over fist.

Lego cashes in big time on Korean parental indulgence. Korean marketing dumbfounds me with the incredibly creative and whimsical expressions with legos. There is all the usual stuff you expect, with separate rooms in toy stores dedicated to Legos. Special customer support personnel politely help you choose the perfect gift for your treasured grandchildren at treasure-like prices. Designers construct entire store entryways with Legos forming full-sized bridges to walk over and tunnels to walk under. All around you are menaced by oversized models of superheroes and villains in disturbingly threatening poses. But by far, the most bizarre accommodation to creative Lego marketing occurred in a densely crowded commons. There were entire families of parents, children, and grandchildren bellying up to large conveyors over a hundred feet long. Haggard Lego employees were carrying buckets and buckets of wildly assorted Legos to dump onto the conveyors. As the endless stream of legos passed, each eager participant selected any piece they wanted to build their creations. It was both frightening and awe-inspiring.

But now, when my grandchildren ask for my help with their legos, I find myself a little flummoxed. Of course, I do my best, but my eyes aren’t what they used to be, and Lego prints its instructions in increasingly smaller fonts. And I’ve mentioned how Minecraft makes me dizzy and slightly nauseous. It’s a little unnerving to accept that the effort of a second childhood in the Lego universe might be too much for this old codger. Sometimes I feel like the real world is passing me by. Fortunately, my grandchildren are willing and eager to take up the slack. They have fully mastered assembling Lego models and playing Minecraft in its most difficult game mode. I could not be more fortunate. Now, if I can find my reading glasses, I can fill out that application for a second mortgage to buy them some more Legos.