Mobo Bronco has committed to proving he’s a big-boy horse by sleeping without his night light as often as he can. When his donor bravely left him in our care, she asked that we place him near a doorway and not leave him in the dark. It turned out to be a brilliant request, as folks passing by my office stopped to pet him and admire his walking mechanism. Now that Mobo is safe in collections storage with other friendly riding toys, he is gaining the confidence to face his fears. Just in case, though, there’s a Raggedy Andy night light at the ready to comfort him.

Alphie would like to spend more time at home with his friend Alphie II. In 2011 the senior bright-eyed robot toy spent six months on loan to the Elmhurst Historical Museum for an exhibit about Chicago-area toy inventors and companies. Reunited in Rochester, the pair plans to sing songs, compare buttons, and offer positive reinforcement for correct answers.

The Strong’s round Monopoly board hopes for a healthier, more beautiful 2012 following its recent makeover. Hand-painted on oilcloth by Charles Darrow to fit the shape of his dining room table, the game board landed in the collection of millionaire Malcolm Forbes. After arriving at The Strong last year, it received a nip and tuck (translation: conservation and cleaning) before appearing in the exhibit, Monopoly: An American Icon. Here’s hoping it can maintain its new look and confidence. Chief aesthetician Primp & Polish Barbie tells me she’s assembled a cadre of skilled on-call beauty consultants should Monopoly wish to take things to the next level.

As collections manager, I’m also in the business of reminding people that artifacts are delicate. Yes, New Year’s resolutions are certain to be abandoned. The artifacts don’t know that, though, so please be gentle with them.

The threat of eternal inactivity looms, a possibility almost as frightening as the thought of going an entire day without checking up on all 546 of your Facebook friends’ status updates. And yet, I have hope that we have not yet descended into permanent couch-potatodom. True, playtime has changed, and the couch certainly does not go lonely, but perusing the America at Play: Play Stories website proves that we still love to get up and move; play is anything but stationary.

In a handful of these videos, adults express concern for the current generation. “I think it [play] has changed a lot now,” muses the creator of Confessions of a Kid. “Before, play was something that was active. It was physical. It was a bonding experience. It was a way to make friends and keep friends.” He implies that electronic games, television shows, and other similar activities have the potential to detract from the active and interactive aspects of play. I began to wonder. Has playtime changed beyond recognition? Do kids today bond more with their PlayStations and computer screens than they do with their peers? I have found that though the videos on the America at Play website provide only a limited glimpse at play, they paint a very optimistic picture.

The website asks video creators to recount a favorite play memory, more specifically a story of playing with friends. Of the nearly 100 videos posted on the website thus far, not a single story focuses solely on video games, television, or computers, and only two even mention electronics. Looking back, teenagers and adults fondly remember rowdy games of kickball; imaginative espionage exploits à la Spy Kids; a challenging obstacle course with neighborhood friends; a backyard performance; and “sklading,” a game that fused skateboarding and sledding. Even more revealing are the stories that children tell of their favorite games and activities. They use their imaginations. They pretend to be playful golden retrievers, make up stories to act out on the playground, and chase make believe aliens around the house. They are active; they tell tales of jumping on trampolines, horseback riding, sledding, and Zumba dancing. They love board games, swing sets, markers, cardboard companions, Lego bricks, and squirt guns. Though the same kids undoubtedly cherish their Nintendo Wii consoles and watch Hannah Montana religiously, those are not their fondest memories, and certainly not their only activities. So have no fear. Our couches are, I am happy to report, more vacant than we realize.

However, staying active isn’t easy. The couch has a powerful lure, and we sometimes need to make a conscious effort to prevent spud syndrome from setting in. So the next time you find yourself logging your 845th consecutive hour on Facebook or spending an entire Sunday glued to your television, remind yourself to get up, get out, and get active. Go play and make some unforgettable memories.

Have a play story to share? You too can tell your tale of victory over the couch! Visit http://aap.museumofplay.org to find out how.

OK, let’s start with Mario Kart. One afternoon a few years ago a group of neighborhood 12-year-olds introduced me to the game. You pick a persona from a colorful cast of characters including the Mario brothers, saddle up a rocket-assisted all-terrain go-kart, and careen through a variety of fancy landscapes. You compete against other drivers who, in pursuit of the finish line, are empowered to run you off the course or blast you off it. I have to tell you two things—the game is hilarious (you’ll laugh right out loud), and it’s nowhere near as easy as it looks. In fact, these middle school whippersnappers were creaming me even though I’d earned my driver’s license during the Nixon administration.

After amusing my smug sub-teen opponents by finishing dead last in several races, a very peculiar thing happened amid the staccato sound and flashing lights; it was a very peculiar thing indeed. Something basic in my vision shifted, some fundamental insight altered, and, I’m not kidding, my perception slowed. I won the next race and the next one after that. What was up?

Here’s where Star Wars comes in. Remember the scene where Luke Skywalker is hoping to drop a proton torpedo down the intake tube of the moon-sized Death Star? Pursued by Darth Vader, the embodiment of evil, and a couple TIE-Fighters, he’s lost his wing man. Sure, he’s in a tight spot. But even worse, he’s become overwhelmed and overloaded by the input from his onboard telemetry. The best electronic system in the galaxy is flooding him with too much information and he’s getting creamed. Then, just in time, the deep, disembodied, rescuing voice of his old Jedi master comes to him; it’s Obi-Wan Kenobi, and he’s not on the headset. “Use the Force, Luke,” (except, because it’s Alec Guinness, it comes out “Lyuoooook…”) Obi-Wan says.  “Let go…” At this, Luke moves his targeting computer aside, closes his eyes meditatively, and trusts to his own skill to guide the torpedo. Once Luke lets the Force be with him, the Death Star explodes in a most satisfying way.

Now a distant voice is coming to me saying “Scott … what about the bicycle?” Ok, ok, here’s the thing about the bicycle. Recently, while riding on a rough road, the only smooth spot I could find was the painted white line at the verge. It took all my concentration to keep within this six-inch stripe as I corrected left, then right, then left again, minutely and continually balancing as a beginner might. But then, a peculiar thing happened—I discovered that it was much easier to follow the white line not by attending to the stripe itself as it passed underneath the wheel inch by inch, but by looking ahead. Looking too closely was turning the painted line into a tightrope and kept me from seeing it as a guideline and a path easily followed. I had to remember that I already know how to ride a bike, and when I did, my perception slowed as it had during the video game; the stripe seemed to widen, the miles passed by. In a similar way, driving Mario’s kart successfully had required seeing beyond the two-dimensional television screen image, or rather seeing directly into the cartoon racecourse and the play landscape. I had to recall that I already knew how to drive before I could stop over-steering and shoving the kart mechanically around the flat electronic space. I had to play along. In these cases and most cases, for playthings and for most things, if you want them to go you need to let go.

I got a Pogo Bal—a modernized version of the pogo stick—for my eighth birthday. As an avid jump roper and Skip-It enthusiast, I quickly caught on to the Pogo Bal. After just a couple weeks I considered myself an advanced user. I bounced barefoot. I bounced laps around the house. I’d get a running start, jump onto the white plastic footrest and bounce away, never missing a step. I could even kick my legs up mid-bounce holding the bright pink ball between my feet, just like those kids on the television commercial. For the first time that I could recall, I could do something better than my siblings could! This fact did not go unnoticed for long. One afternoon as I bounced away, my middle brother wagered a friendly contest, proposing we see who could complete the most consecutive jumps without falling or stopping. I agreed immediately, thrilled that I was finally being considered a playmate (even if it was due in part to the absence of my college-bound brother). For the duration of the summer, the winner of the contest would earn the right to pass off the chore of their choice once a week. Triumphing with a record-breaking 250 consecutive bounces, I relished the evenings when I could escape dishwasher duty.

The Pogo Bal challenge served as a catalyst for additional competitions and, eventually, collaborations. While I reigned as Pogo Bal champion, my brother held the title for video games. Despite my best efforts, I could never quite match his high scores. I’d watch in amazement as he tackled villains of all shapes and sizes, conquering every game we owned with ease, including (but not limited to) Super Mario Bros., Super Mario Bros. 3, Mike Tyson’s Punch-Out!!, and Contra. Eventually, we decided to pool our money to purchase a Sega Genesis, fueling the competition with not only new games but an entirely new system. I never conquered Sonic the Hedgehog, but I knew the secrets to unlocking hidden worlds and obtaining those coveted gem stones, which was somehow just as satisfying. As usual, however, my brother conquered everything.

Although the competition was fierce, it was always friendly, helping to build a bond that has lasted. Through our favorite playtime activities, my brother and I discovered that we each had different strengths and learned to respect those qualities. Now grown adults, we maintain this approach, celebrating one another’s successes and collaborating frequently on various projects and ideas.

I’m not sure what ever happened to my legendary pink and white Pogo Bal, the toy that I credit with earning me play pal status—not to mention the only championship title I’ve ever held. I sometimes wonder, if I still had the Pogo Bal, would there be competitive tournaments during family get-togethers? Would I still be the reigning champion? Would the torch of the Pogo Bal competition be passed on to my niece and nephew, teaching them the same valuable lessons? Probably not, but the thought certainly makes me smile.

Having immersed myself in Prima’s strategy guides for the better part of a year, I’d like to offer you a glimpse of the riches this resource includes. Does your Plymouth Barracuda Formula-S always come in last in Forza 2 Motorsport? Are you having trouble finding Alyx, who seems to have disappeared in HλLF-LIFE²? Do you wonder if you’re playing with a full deck of Pokémon Platinum cards on your Nintendo DS? The Prima strategy guides can answer all these questions and more. But beyond game play hints and helps, I’ve also been thinking about which Prima strategy guides I found most appealing. Here are my top five choices for their visual and content appeal:

5. Madden NFL 09

I love football—even video game versions of football—and Madden NFL games represent the best of video game football. The two-volume boxed set from 2009 covers both the Madden NFL 09 game and the 20-year history of this video game franchise. This hardcover special edition would please any Madden NFL fan.

4. Prince of Persia, collector’s edition

This strategy guide is a work of art from cover to cover. Originally developed for the Apple II computer, the wildly successful Prince of Persia game evolved into an elaborate franchise, including a 2010 motion picture.

3. LEGO game guides: LEGO Indiana Jones, LEGO Batman, and LEGO Star Wars

LEGO plus anything always makes a winning combination. LEGO video games bring a new level of play to this timeless brand—as well as to the action hero game concept. I honestly love these guides because they are just plain fun to look at and page through.

2. The Legend of Zelda: Phantom Hourglass, collector’s edition

This strategy guide has the look and feel of an ancient storybook, complete with what librarians and book collectors call “all-edge gilt.” This technique requires trimming and smoothing the edge of each page of a book and then applying gold paint to those edges. Quite appealing. A full-color, two-sided poster and faux-leather Zelda bookmark complement the collector’s edition.

1. The Sims

My number one choice is simply The Sims. Which one? All of them. As a huge fan of The Sims franchise, I spent countless hours playing the original version (with multiple expansion packs) on my PC in the early 2000s. I loved creating houses, decorating rooms, and buying furnishings. The Sims strategy guides provide pointers for getting the most enjoyment out of the software. Now The Sims 3 can be played on multiple platforms including PlayStation 3, Nintendo Wii, and even on Android mobile phones. The Sims are Simply my favorite!

If you were a filmgoer in the 1980s, you probably paddled like a mermaid at least once. Perhaps you were channeling Daryl Hannah in Splash (1984). Likelier still—and I suspect this is the case for most of my contemporaries—you wanted to be part of Ariel’s world.

Disney’s The Little Mermaid (1989) retold Hans Christian Andersen’s 19th-century fairy tale of the sea king’s daughter who exchanges her aquatic lifestyle and melodic voice for a pair of legs and a chance at love with a human prince. Mermaids’ special skills—swimming, singing, and supreme beauty—qualify them as instant idols for little girls. After Ariel’s big-screen debut, she appeared on everything from hairbrushes to handheld video games. Even Barbie sported a fin.

I still list The Little Mermaid among my favorite films. The underwater kingdom’s grand architecture and diverse array of colorful creatures captivate me, as do Ariel’s earnest aspirations to understand and assimilate with society above the ocean’s surface. The lives of this princess and the object of her affections are not entirely dissimilar, and yet each is a mystery to the other.

While mermaids are almost certainly a figment of our imaginations (except for real-life mermaids such as Hannah Fraser and Linden Wolbert), it is not implausible that they could exist in the dark depths of the ocean, down there with other undiscovered species. Mermaids are easier for us to imagine than, say, the blobfish. They are humanlike and yet enchantingly extraordinary, living parallel lives below us.

So thanks to moms everywhere who’ve humored or encouraged their splashing offspring in mermaid fantasies.

Electronic games afford families a wide variety of educational and entertainment opportunities. However, the challenge as parents is to ensure our children play age-appropriate games and that we understand the content present within the game play. Given the massive number of games available—and the fact that children are often more tech savvy than Mom or Dad—this can be a daunting task. Fortunately, there are a number of tools to assist parents in making informed choices and to safeguard their children.

Entertainment Software Rating Board (ESRB) ratings are an excellent starting point. The majority of video and computer games sold prominently display an ESRB rating symbol on both the front and back of the package. The symbol on the front divides games into one of six categories based on age-appropriateness, from early childhood to adults only. The back includes content descriptors indicating whether the game contains violence, strong language, suggestive material, gambling, and other potentially inappropriate subject matter. The rating symbol also appears on the game itself. The ESRB website has an excellent search tool that allows users to search games and find ratings and content descriptors.

Parents can also filter content through the parental control settings on contemporary game consoles. The Wii, Xbox 360, and PS3 all allow parents to program restrictions based on ESRB ratings and content descriptors. If parents don’t want their children playing games with violent content, they can program the system so that these games cannot be played. Other control settings, such as the play control timer on the Xbox 360 and the play history list on the Wii, are available depending on the console.

Another important consideration is contemporary game consoles’ online connectivity for multiplayer gaming. ESRB ratings address the content shipped by the game publisher but not user-generated content or chat that players may encounter online; an additional notice appears on online-enabled games, “Online Interactions Not Rated by the ESRB.” Since online play can potentially lead to exposure to inappropriate game content and behavior, many parents use the parental controls on the consoles to limit online access and others opt not to hook the game console up to the Internet at all.

In the conversation with my friend, he commented that he had paid attention to the ESRB ratings when buying games, but knew his daughter had a number of games that neither he nor his wife had purchased for her. As for the parental controls, he somewhat ashamedly admitted that his daughter and older son had been the ones that hooked up the system and didn’t think they were enabled. He cautioned me, “Wait until your children are a little older and know more about this stuff than you do.” I guess I’d better get ready for that…

If you’ve forgotten which twelve lucky toys and games competed for this year’s honors, they were: the Ball, Big Wheel, Cabbage Patch Kids, The Game of Life, Hot Wheels, Nintendo Game Boy, Paper Airplane, Playing Cards, Rubik’s Cube, Sidewalk Chalk, Toy Tea Set, and Transformers.  All worthy candidates, in my opinion.

So, it’s a great thrill to celebrate this year’s three new inductees to the National Toy Hall of Fame—the Ball, Big Wheel, and Nintendo Game Boy. Our National Toy Hall of Fame induction ceremony on November 5 took place without a hitch in front of lots of cheering guests and TV cameras. As someone who’s never afraid of appearing silly on the museum’s behalf, I’d tried shoehorning myself onto a Big Wheel, but soon discovered that Big Wheels just aren’t engineered for someone my size or weight. So we asked a couple photogenic kids to ride our Big Wheels for the ceremony instead. We recruited four museum colleagues to demonstrate how essential the Ball is for all sorts of play. And Mario, of Super Mario Bros. fame, pitched in to help out with announcing that Nintendo Game Boy was being recognized for its role as an innovator in handheld gaming.

What’s next? Now’s your chance to start your own nomination campaign for next year’s National Toy Hall of Fame inductees. It’s never too early to head to our Web site and fill out our nomination form. And, if you’re really enthusiastic about that favorite toy, recruit everyone you know to do the same. I can’t wait to hear all about the hundreds of toys that deserve a place in the 2010 class.

So I’m extremely excited to announce that the museum’s collections can now be viewed online! Check out Online Collections and you’ll find that a selection of the more than half a million objects in our collection can be browsed and searched, complete with images and museum cataloging information. The museum’s Web site is, in effect, an extension of the physical building and the online collections database creates virtual real estate for the thousands of objects that we just can’t put on display. Each month we’re adding new acquisitions to the database, so our online offering will continue to grow.

We decided to custom develop this application in-house, and here’s why: the Web components for many collections database management systems are ugly. Most of them were designed with researchers and museum professionals in mind, and visual design was an afterthought at best. We wanted our system to appeal to everyday people (not just specialists) and to make it easy for them to find something of interest by browsing through pages rich with images.

Putting things together in this virtual space has turned up lots of little surprises like this great compilation of dollhouses we have in the collection. And here’s just a portion of our Barbie doll collection. In preparation for our new American Comic Book Heroes exhibit, several recent acquisitions have been put online in the Action Figures and Character Toys category. Of course, our Online Collections database wouldn’t be complete without Margaret Woodbury Strong’s favorite doll, Mabel.

So give us a chance to show off for you.  Start your own browsing and exploring of all our collection has to offer. Head on over to the Online Collections database and see what surprises you’ll find!

I’m finding that a lot of people who would never call themselves “gamers” in fact play electronic games. Adults may not log onto Xbox Live or own a PlayStation 3, but perhaps they have played Free Cell on their PC, Scrabble on the internet, or Texas Hold‘em on an iPhone. Young kids use educational software loaded with games both at school and home, talk with their friends about their Club Penguin accounts, or own Webkinz. From young children to senior citizens, the relevant question is increasingly not “Are you a gamer?” but “What kind of games do you play?”

Strong National Museum of Play is building a collection of tens of thousands of electronic games and related artifacts. Of course  we’re gathering games and hardware for major systems like Wii, Xbox, and PlayStation (and obsolete consoles like Atari, Intellivision, and Sega), but we’re also acquiring old Texas Instrument Little Professors, vintage Simons, and modern electronic games like iPhone apps and kids’ play laptops. We want to build a collection that documents the diverse ways that electronic games have woven themselves into the fabric of our lives.

Help us know what we should be collecting. What do you play? What are your favorite kinds of electronic games? What electronic games do your kids play with?