In memory of Amber Gibson
March 20, 2006.
Should a man spend enough time with a woman, one question inevitably flows from his lips—when you were young, did you ever pretend your Barbie and Ken had sex?
I asked Amber this question, and she said, “No.”
She added that in fact, she had nine Barbies and one Ken. And she said, “I rarely whipped Ken out of the closet. During playtime, he stayed in there without his pants.”
I raised an eyebrow; she gave pause then confessed there were only eight Barbies plus a Skipper, a confession that makes my title somewhat misleading.
You might suspect she put the subject to rest, but she didn’t. And as she put her head on my chest and fell asleep, I propped my arm behind my head and stared at the darkened ceiling.
Now I’ll grant you that Ken is tall, well, relatively speaking. And I’ll concede that Ken has broad shoulders, narrow hips, and that ever-present, winning smile. Although his hairstyle is dated, he still has hair—and that’s something. In short, he possesses the hallmarks of a virile man, but this pillar of manpower implodes like a derelict when Ken takes the pink corvette for a spin through the naked city.
I must confess that growing up, I never liked Ken. He came off as being plastic and overly confident. I was far too young to see the insecurity behind his smile.
And there on the edge of sleep, I imagined Ken sitting head in hands on a LEGO wearing only that tragic smile and a black vest from Mattel. And I considered how he yearned to emerge from the closet.
(C) 2006 Kent Gutschke.
MARTIAN DEATH RAY 