CLASSIC TOYS OF THE NATIONAL TOY HALL OF FAME

A Celebration of the Greatest Toys of All Time!

By Scott G. Eberle and Strong National Museum of Play

Running Press. 264 pp. $29.95

WP BOOKSTORE

Why do people have children? There are, of course, multiple reasons. According to biology, we're just doing what comes naturally -- passing on our genes. The Old Testament commands us to be fruitful and multiply. Historically, the family has provided the foundation of society, offspring serving as field hands for the farm or heirs to the business and the estate. Often peer pressure plays a role: All our friends start having babies, and we join the trend -- it seemed like a good idea at the time.

All these are cogent reasons to account for the mystery of why one day we're tooling around in a red Miata and the next we're driving to soccer games in a dented minivan. Still, all these sound, practical explanations for progeny do overlook one crucial element, a key benefit of parenthood too seldom acknowledged: Having children allows us to play with our old toys again.

Barbie and G.I. Joe, jigsaw puzzles, Lincoln Logs, Slinky, Lego, Mr. Potato Head, Tinkertoy, Etch A Sketch, jacks, Play-Doh, Monopoly, Silly Putty, kites, baby dolls, Lionel trains, teddy bears, Tonka trucks -- is there anything better in life than being a little kid on Christmas morning about to unwrap such treasures? Let me answer that: Nope, there probably isn't. But second best is being a mother or father sitting down on a blustery afternoon to play Candy Land with a 3-year-old or curling up with her brother to read "The Little Engine That Could" or "Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel."

Except for the books, all these childhood favorites are included in the wonderful oversize album "Classic Toys." Anyone born in the 1940s and '50s, especially, will find here more Proustian moments than can be counted: Hula-Hoops, View-Masters, adjustable metal roller skates, an Easy-Bake Oven. There's even a close-up of a pristine 64-count box of Crayola Crayons, the size that came with a built-in sharpener. You know the one: It's the box that you coveted when you had to make do with the broken crayons that your mother kept in an old tin cookie canister on a shelf next to the coloring books.

There's no doubt that "Classic Toys" will entice even the most hard-nosed Scrooge or hardhearted Grinch to waste a lot of valuable, billable time simply smiling over pictures of Radio Flyer wagons, wooden rocking horses and fancy Duncan yo-yos. Those of a more sentimental nature may simply find themselves aching with nostalgia. But the pictures are only half the story here. Don't neglect Scott G. Eberle's fact-filled essays. "Today 90 percent of American girls own a Barbie doll," he writes. "The average American girl owns ten. If the billion Barbies sold to date were laid coif to toes, they would circle the earth more than seven times." After this striking opening, Eberle chronicles the iconic doll's history and metamorphoses, without shying away from the controversies. He even quotes "talking" Barbie's immortal line: "Math class is tough!"

Perhaps today's Barbie would know, though I didn't, that six Lego blocks can combine in 102,981,500 ways. Or that the word yo-yo was given to the toy by a Filipino, and that it means "come, come" in Tagalog. Nor was I aware that architect Frank Lloyd Wright's son John Lloyd Wright was the genius behind Lincoln Logs. But I do know, from rueful experience, all about "steelies," which came from truck roller-bearings and could smash your ordinary cat's-eye marbles to smithereens.

As Eberle stresses, many of the classic toys are also the simplest. One of the unexpected charms of this book lies in extended entries on the cardboard box and the stick. Eberle writes of the former, so suitable for being transformed into a fort, a robot or a sled: "In the days before recycling took hold, before hurried deliverymen used box cutters to reduce a cardboard container to flat sheets and trucked them away, a new appliance turned into a neighborhood event for kids. . . . Because boxes cost nothing and also because there is no such thing as making a mistake with discarded cardboard, kids could manhandle these boxes, experiment with them."

As many parents will acknowledge, younger children often find a present's packaging more exciting than the present itself. Eberle explains the significance of this in a passage that also summarizes the vital importance of free play: "Creativity is the key to why the cardboard box can join a list of most memorable toys. Toys that challenge kids' imagination, toys that strengthen their brains and bodies, toys that invite cooperation and competition over and over again are the toys that endure."

Eberle -- vice president for interpretation at the Strong National Museum of Play -- has obviously thought much and well about how childhood pastimes can influence our entire lives. At the end of his essay on the erector set, he offers a moving meditation on the decline of tinkering in an age when scientific and technological advances have grown more and more corporate "and the effects of individual discovery, harder to discern." Once upon a time, a teenage boy could work on an old junker in the back yard and turn it into a sleek street machine -- no more.

Because of Eberle's sharply written text, "Classic Toys" isn't just a sentimental journey into childhood: It's also a work of incisive cultural commentary and a pleasure to read. Still, one may ask: Where are squirt guns and hand puppets and plastic airplane models and sand buckets? And what would childhood be like without chalk for drawing on sidewalks? No doubt these and many other old reliables will be added to the National Toy Hall of Fame in years to come. But tomorrow is Christmas, and so in the spirit of the season -- and of this fine book -- I am going to close by revealing the secret of happiness: Find a small child and either make, buy or borrow as many wooden blocks as you can. You want lots of blocks, big ones ideally, and they should be of various lengths and include arches and other shapes. Then clear some space in the living room. You might even want to move some of the furniture. Now, together with your associate engineer, build the biggest and absolutely best castle ever. Take your time. Take all the time in the world.

WP BOOKSTORE