Wikipedia says the book came out in the early 60s and since Wikipedia never lies, I'll defer to them and admit defeat. It goes without saying that I wasn't born yet so perhaps that will hold my excuse, however tenuous. The timeline of when Flat Stanley did or didn't come into being really has nothing to do with the rest of my tale so it's probably best just to move on.
In this book, there is a boy called, surprisingly enough, Stanley and through some sort of misfortune he ends up being flattened. Whether by a suitcase or a 10-ton weight or a piano or something, Stanley goes from being a rigid, normal boy to the malleable and paper thin fellow the so man schoolkids apparently love.
One would reckon this to be a somewhat traumatic situation for the little gent. That his family probably would require years of intense therapy resulting in hundreds of thousands of dollars in medical bills, and the very real possibility that the family would shatter. But since Stanley's family is made of stronger stock, and this is a children's book not a Lifetime movie starring Meredith Baxter-Birney, they made lemonade out of life's lemons.
Clever, if somewhat cruelly, his parents dub him Flat Stanley and discover he can fit in an envelope. While I'm not really sure how this problem or solution came up--again, I've not read the book--this eureka moments results in the newly christened Flat Stanley being sent sent all over the world. I suppose getting to see the world for the price of whatever a postage stamp goes for these days isn't that bad. But considering what Stanley's been through, it seems a little macabre that his parents immediately hatch a plan to send him as far away and as frequently as possible.
Of course, this may have been in their best interest as well. It seems rather likely that DFACS would start snooping around after hearing about a little boy getting flattened in his own home. The whole tale really doesn't suggest the best environment for child rearing, but I guess we're not really dealing within the confines of reality with this one.
Given the popularity of the book with everyone (except me, apparently) some ingenious soul, probably a teacher, decided kids might enjoy making their own Flat Stanleys and sending him all over the world. That way some do-gooder can take his picture in front of, say, Big Ben. The cynic in me can't help but think this is little more than a means to prop up our lagging postal service, but I'm sure the stated goals of the project are a bit more altruistic. Probably to promote peace, equality and acceptance of flat persons or some such. Maybe even teach kids that geography can be fun. I don't know.
What I do know is that this notion has become quite popular and folks seem to get awfully excited about getting the opportunity. Look at me, I've written an entire post on taking a picture with a paper cutout. (There should have been a spoiler alert before that last sentence. Oh, well.) But there's a web site devoted to all things Flat Stanley and his many travels and the people, famous and otherwise, he's met along the way. If, by chance, I've not gone into enough detail about this whole business or you really need to see Dave Matthews shaking hands with one Stanley, then head on over there now. Don't worry, I'll wait.
Thanks to a cousin from somewhere other than here, Saturday night was my turn. Figuring that there was no better place to be than the Georgia Tech-Virginia Tech game, we decided to take Stanley along. Since Tech is rather stringent on everyone having a ticket, Stanley was smuggled in. Quite probably I was the only fellow smuggling in something other than a potent potable, but I felt no less rebellious. "Power to the people" being one of Stanley's less popular credos. As I get more set in my ways, my civil disobedience gets tamer and tamer. Or lamer and lamer.
So with Tech leading 7-3 at halftime and figuring the ushers were on a smoke break, I felt the time was right for Stanley to make his appearance. I realize that the average person probably would feel a bit stupid doing such things in any situation, let alone a football game. However, I love the children and believe they are our future and gladly obliged.
Afterwards, I didn't have the heart to fold Stanley up and send him back into the pocket of my Dad's seat cushion. My Dad's a nice guy and all, but I really wouldn't want to smell his ass for 3 hours and can't imagine a piece of paper would either. So I tucked Stanley in between my sweater and there he stayed for the rest of the match.
Stanley watched the contest amazed that an otherwise sensible 30-something would assign feelings to a cutout when Stanley's own parents clearly didn't seem to care to begin with. There's probably a lesson in there somewhere, but who cares Tech won. The real Tech, that is. Georgia Tech.
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