So many Barbie memories!  But they’re not quite along the lines of what Barbie’s creator had in mind for tomboy daughters like my sister and me.  The old commercials touted Barbie as an example of how to dress, how to act and claimed she could help your tomboy daughters catch a man!

Right.

The first thing we did, with our first Barbie in hand, was let down that stupid up-do, ditch Ken, get in a convertable (tennis shoe) and drive down the hallway to my brother’s room, where G.I. Joe was defending our country.  We, of course, took him against his will and made him go on a date with us while we drove.

Some are bending over backwards to use Barbie’s 50th birthday today as a vehicle for health advice.  Could that be a bit of a stretch?  

One assistant professor of medicine at St. Louis University’s School of Medicine is quoted as saying, “Having been a tennis player, aerobics instructor, equestrian, lifeguard, ballet dancer, and gymnast, Barbie loves to exercise and has washboard abs and a tiny waist to prove it. She knows that regular, weight bearing activity is one of the best things you can do to keep your bones strong and stave off osteoporosis.”

Her bones?  Granted, the only toy I ever cut open was Stretch Armstrong, but something tells me Barbie does not have bones.  Or blood.  Or guts. 

Another bit of advice publicized was for Barbie to keep up the good work with yearly mammograms.  I’d like to see a mammography machine that could withstand the beating it would take trying to get a reading on those things.  I thought hugging a friend with them was jolting.  (Not that there’s anything wrong with that).

I won’t mention the other health screenings they recommended Barbie undertake, although anatomically impossible.  Duh…our girls aren’t dumb.  They know our plastic sister cannot have a colonoscopy!

Anyway, Barbie:  Good times.  G.I. Joe:  Better times.  Rock on.