There’s something pretty cool about being able to use your imagination to create something incredible from nothing. Annaliese thinks I say the word incredible too much, but when you’re in a place like this it’s kind of the only word that comes to mind.
Where am I going with this whole imagination thing? Well, like most kids growing up, there was one toy I couldn’t live without. LEGOS. So when I came Denmark – the birthplace of the LEGO – let me tell you people, incredible doesn’t even begin to describe it.
There are LEGO stores around ever corner. And if they don’t have a LEGO store on one street, they just build the street out of LEGOs instead.
But while Lego may have tons of different architecture sets that model various landmarks around the world, I couldn’t find a single landmark from Denmark. I thought this in particular to be odd. Denmark is known for its national pride, and one would think a company founded within its borders would boast models of almost every well-known building in the country.
In America – we have our Lincoln Logs. The brand literally derives its name from arguably the greatest president of our nation’s history. And while they may not be as renowned as LEGOs, they don’t hesitate to boast their national roots.
But in Denmark, there is a certain sense of humility to the fact that they honor the world’s landmarks while at the same time hide their own in anonymity. And maybe that’s where the true sense of pride lies – not in showing off to the world but keeping it exclusive and close to their hearts.
Refusing to leave this great city without a sample of one the best toys ever invented, Brian and I were determined to engineer some sort of Scandanavian memento. And, after 35 minutes of playing around in a store full of 5 year olds – I think we did an ok job:
P.S. Don’t leave Sara alone ever. She will – without failure – always get lost.
More to follow,