I Am Not A Toy

My name is Jack. I hide in this box. Sometimes I don't. I don't dance monkey.

I'm cranky, in more ways than one.
I've been stuck in this box since 1971.
This hobo, this clown ain't skipping the rails.
We just making the childrens--
and sometimes grown mens-- suffer the illusion 
we're fun and then they wails.

Do Jack-in-the-boxes scare you? I've always hated these guys and yet they were handed to me as if all kids were supposed to love them. Kind of the same as Wizard of Oz. Each  Thanksgiving it was on TV while we were growing up and so our families would plop us in front of it, but the flying monkeys gave me serious, recurring nightmares. That is not a kid's movie and Jack is not a kid's toy. I'm still scared. When I found this one at the thrift store a while back I found myself tensing up each turn of the crank. The times he doesn't pop I am not disappointed. 

What scares the crud out of you that is not supposed to?


  1. I had that exact Jack-In-The-Box as a kid and I hated it. Still don't like jack-in-the-boxes and won't buy one for the grandkids.
    Thanks for that icky trip down memory lane. ;-)

  2. I'm glad you agree Tina. I showed someone Jack the other day and they hand fond memories. I'm not sure how that works.


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