Thursday, 05 January 2006 | Flat Stanley

At the beginning of December, my nephew Zachary (he's 8) sent me a photocopy of a cartoon man that he'd colored using red, blue, and brown crayons. Inside the envelope was a note, telling me the paper man's name ("Flat Stanley") and giving me instructions on what to do with him:

1. Transport Flat Stanley around New York for a couple weeks.
2. Produce photographic and written evidence of your adventures.
3. Mail him back to his home in North Carolina.

The purpose of this exercise was for Zachary to learn about my city through Flat Stanley's eyes, and then relay that information to his second grade class. It was kind of a daunting assignment, to convey the nature of my large and complicated city to a room of 8-year-olds, using only a one-dimensional, grinning prop. I think I tend to see the city in shorthand, concentrating on New York's details, which probably doesn't translate so well for an audience who's been raised amidst subdivisions and shopping malls. Also, perhaps more importantly, I wanted my nephew to think that his Aunt Lisa is awesome.

Sometimes it was tough to hold Flat Stanley taut against the wind while simultaneously obscuring my hand, and it wasn't always easy to position him believably (as he had no back or sides), but we managed. Accustomed to far more unusual behavior, people barely glanced at me as I held Flat Stanley far from my body with my left hand and photographed him with my right. For the record, I refrained from taking any "Flat Stanley: Uncensored" photos, which means that, at 31, I have finally become an adult.

It's weird how objects with a face seem sentient. My rational mind never seems to be able to overcome that phenomenon.

(pictured above: Flat Stanley [with scarf], hailing a taxi; Flat Stanley, making girls laugh at a party)