Mo gets paid for chasing after inconsequential facts and looking at pictures. But in this guest post she tells us about a special present from her father that avoided gender stereotypes.

Triang Train Set by Morag Mcfarland

When I was about 7 my Dad decided to go and get both me and my brother special presents. It wasn’t Christmas or our birthdays, I think he had had a bonus or something because there was never usually any spare money. He went to a big toyshop in town to get us a treat.

My brother was easy – Scalextric. Ian was 9 and car mad and that was the new must-have toy. But for me he struggled. I had dolls and a dolls’ house but my favourite things were building blocks and books. All the “girls” toys were boring: ironing boards, cookers and dolls that wet themselves. He told me many years later that it made him sad that that was all that was on offer, an image of a domestic future.

So he took a chance and bought me a train set. I still remember opening the parcel. My first thought was “This isn’t for me, it’s a boy’s toy, I hope Ian lets me play with it sometimes” But when I realised it really was for me I was so excited. We set it up right there and then on the living room floor next to the Scalextric.

It wasn’t much to begin with – a single circuit with one locomotive and a few trucks but over time I got more track and accessories.

It became the centrepiece of many games – the train would carry my little dolls around, passing by the dolls’ house and one of the first things I got for it was a bridge so the train could run over the nearby formula one (Scalextric) track. It never reached the level of a permanent layout or became an obsession like it does for some (no, I never became a train spotter) but I loved that train set. And even more I love that my Dad didn’t pay any attention to gender stereotypes and got me something he thought I would enjoy.

Thanks Dad.

To view some of Mo’s photography and illustrations visit her flickr or follow her on Twitter. And if you would like to share your toy story, let me know @stuartwitts.

Author, illustrator, speaker, songwriter, skeptic, Blue Peter badge winner, ‘QI’ Elf and researcher/writer for ‘The Museum of Curiosity’. Stevyn Colgan has done many things in his life, including a 30 year stint in the Metropolitan Police, but here he tells us about his passion for the humble Viewmaster.

Viewmasters by Stevyn Colgan

Words cannot quite contain my love for these glorious things.

I got my first Viewmaster in 1970 and I still have it; it was a fawn coloured Model G (1959-1977) with a set of circular ‘reels’ that allowed me to see the Apollo 11 moon landing in glorious 3D technicolour. I cannot begin to describe the thrill I felt at first viewing. Just a year previously, at the age of eight, I’d watched the actual moon landing, live on television, in fuzzy shades of grey and it was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to me. Even now, at the starting-to-creak age of 52, I still maintain that it was probably one of the most momentous days of my life. Has TV ever broadcast anything quite so extraordinary since? The Viewmaster, and the treat of seeing it all again in 3D deliciousness was a second bite of the pie. I was hooked. I wanted to eat all the pies.

For subsequent birthdays and Christmases, everyone knew what to get me and my collection of reels grew and grew. My more enlightened relatives bought me reels that they knew I’d squee over; Star Trek, Thunderbirds and anything involving dinosaurs. Other, less well-informed rellies bought me geographical reels – the most prolific of Viewmaster subjects – but I didn’t mind. As a pre-pubescent Cornish boy who regarded visiting Plymouth was ‘going abroad’, it was quite mind-blowing to see the Grand Canyon and the Swiss Alps in three dimensions.

As my teenage years approached, other distractions pulled me away from the Viewmaster: school, music, girls…

Oh, incidentally, you’d have thought that the Viewmaster would have been the perfect medium for porn wouldn’t you? All those sticky-out bits in 3D! But there was none and, as far as I’m aware, there still isn’t. Erm… not that I’ve looked too hard. Erm. I assume that the technical difficulties involved in getting the 3D images processed and fitted into the reels were beyond the means of your average Ron Sleazy Enterprises. Instead we found ‘bush porn’ in the hedgerows and woods. Who did leave that there for us?

Anyway, my Model G and my collection of reels went into the attic and were almost forgotten about. Time passed and I moved to London and started work. I met a lady. We got married. We had kids. We bought a house. And then, when it was approaching my daughter’s 5th birthday, I was rummaging around in Toys R Us when I happened upon a Viewmaster. And what amazed me about it was that it looked just like my old machine, albeit slightly curvier and chunkier and a bright red in colour. I bought it immediately (with some Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles reels as I recall). And she loved it! She loved it just as much as I’d loved mine. It inspired me to dig my old 70s machine out of the attic and I discovered with glee that my reels fitted her spanking new Model L just as her reels fitted my Model G. That’s one of the brilliant things about the Viewmaster; the reels have never changed. You can watch a 1952 reel of Queen Elizabeth’s coronation on a brand new 2014 Model O and you can watch a 2014 Ben 10 reel on a 1938 Benite plastic clamshell Model A. I can’t think of a single other medium that has remained completely unchanged while the machines used to view it have continued to evolve.

Anyway, to cut a long story short, I now have all the pies. I have a pretty complete collection of Viewmasters; a representative machine of (almost) every model ever produced and thousands of reels. And I absolutely love them. I even got to share my enthusiasm with Stephen Fry, Alan Davies and some QI guests recently when, for the ‘Kitsch’ show, I let them borrow some of my early Bakelite model Cs and Ds to demonstrate that the US military once used them to train gunners in aircraft recognition. Oh yes, Viewmasters aren’t just for kids you know. Believe me, the panellists were all stupidly excited to play with them and were amazed by the wartime reels (also from my collection).

The Viewmaster is/was the best toy I’ve ever had (Lego a close second, mind). You can read about historical events in books and watch documentaries on the TV, but seeing Berlin after the Blitz in high definition 3D really takes you there. Nothing beats seeing London in the 1950s in glorious stereoscopic colour. Nothing beats seeing terrible, inaccurate depictions of dinosaurs from the 1950s. The Viewmaster is history and travel and science and all your favourite TV shows and films presented in a completely unique way.

3D is much-maligned and horribly ubiquitous these days. But it wasn’t always that way. There was a time when it was magical. It certainly was to one nine year old Cornish lad. And, for him at least, it still is.

To read more from Stevyn, visit his website or follow him on Twitter. To discover more about the wonder of the Viewmaster, visit the visual refernce guide or the website of Mary-Anne and Wolfgang Sells, THE Viewmaster experts.

And if you would like to share your toy story, let me know @stuartwitts.

David Bradley has been writing about sciencey stuff for a quarter of a century and is the author of ‘Deceived Wisdom‘, a book about how everything you know is wrong. In this guest post, David tells us about his fascination with the Rubik’s Cube and demonstrates his uncanny toy juggling ability.

Rubik’s Cube by David Bradley

If I remember rightly, the Rubik’s Cube puzzle was our fascination during the long school summer holidays of 1980. My friends and I used to scrabble to unscramble the coloured squares and be first to get all the faces with their “solved” uniform colour. I don’t think any of us actually worked out how to do it from scratch but we all learned the little cubic shuffles that you carried out to make first the top face, then the second row and finally complete it. Once you had it done, you could apply a few extra symmetrical twists to make chequerboards, crosses and striped patterns to impress and confuse parents.

Needless to say as a fledgling ubergeek, it was all in the timing for me and my mates. One friend, Phil, rattled his way through the puzzle again and again until he could complete it from totally scrambled to solved in 42 seconds. We timed him. My own personal best was 46 seconds, but almost 34 years later I can barely get the first face done in that time and the second row takes another 30 minutes. My addled middle-aged brain cannot reinvigorate the muscle memory sufficiently to let me complete the final face.

Intriguingly, the team at Materials Today magazine had some Periodic Table Rubik’s Cubes for promotional purposes and just last week mailed me three in a padded envelope…the idea being that I could perhaps juggle them while solving the puzzles. That might be stretching it a little. Another friend taught me to juggle much later in life – I think I was in my mid-30s and I can just about keep the three cubes in the air, but I still cannot nudge them past that second row..

To read more from David, visit his blog or follow him on Twitter. And if you would like to share your toy story, let me know @stuartwitts.

In the first of a series of guest posts, former TV-AM weather presenter and all-round nice person Wincey Willis shares her memories of the very first toy she remembers owning. Although well known for her weather forecasts, Wincey is most proud of her work as a writer and as presenter of television programmes about animals, notably Animal Watch on TV-am and the Granada TV series Wincey’s Pets.

Peggy the Lamb by Wincey Willis

I was adopted when I was a baby, Peggy was the first toy I remember getting. As a toddler she was with me all the time, at night I twiddled her ears between my fingers to go to sleep. That explains why she has none now. I was always passionate about animals both pets and wild creatures, I always preferred ‘cuddly’ toys over dolls. As I got a bit older Peggy still stayed with me, even when I was in hospital. She is in the state she is in through cuddles, strokes, ear twiddling and pure love.

To read more from Wincey, visit her blog or follow her on Twitter. And if you would like to share your toy story, let me know @stuartwitts.

My love of toys spans many different mediums and none more so than the relatively recent craze of Designer Vinyl. This type of toy is usually identified by its limited quantity and unusual appearance, due partly to its creation by artists and designers.

One of my favourites in this field of ABS plastic is the ‘Lunartik In A Cup Of Tea‘ by Matt JOnes. Matt first conceived of the Lunartik in 2004 and has been producing many different flavours, and sizes, ever since.

The Lunartik was the first designer toy that I bought and I have been collecting many different versions ever since. Its obvious connections with the hot beverage and ‘uber’ coolness made it the perfect desk accessory for my time as a web designer.

A year or so after my first purchase I had the tremendous good fortune to work with Matt on a charity project that I was organising for Marie Curie Cancer Care. It was an ideal choice for the charities Blooming Great Tea Party campaign and Matt produced a number of custom Lunartik’s for auction and joined in our Twitter #TweaParty via live video stream. To this day I am proud to count Matt as one of my best friends and, despite his remote location, try to keep in contact as regularly as possible.

To find out more about ‘Lunartik In A Cup Of Tea’ and the mind of the man behind it, visit www.lunartik.com and don’t forget to pick up your very own special brew.

No toy story would be complete without LEGO, and for the first of many mentions that this capstone (or should that be capbrick?) of childhood will be getting I have chosen my very first set.

LEGO Space was a huge leap forward in LEGO design and contained numerous new parts and techniques that had not previously been seen. It’s retro looks and promise of inter-galactic travel made it one of the most desirable toys both then and now, demanding impressive prices on eBay and at Toy Fairs.

However, this wasn’t my first encounter with space in brick form. One of my earliest memories is of an enormous BattleStar that me and my best friend Taskin built at infants school. I have no proof of its size, but in my mind I remember it being at least 4 feet long with a whole fleet of Colonial Vipers that could launch from its hangars. Each one of these starfighters was ingeniously created from only three 2×4 LEGO bricks and many years later I was able to order a ‘semi’ official kit from LEGO themselves via LEGOFactory.com

LEGO has been one of the few things that has journeyed with me through the past 40 years and is still very much a part of my life today with shelves and attic space groaning under the weight of knobbly plastic. This passion is also guaranteed to continue down the bloodline as my son is equally entranced, however this has caused some ‘issues’ along the way.

As a long-time lover of toys and an avid, albeit frugal, collector I have amassed quite a hodgepodge of plush, plastic and die-cast metal. Each one of these treasures speaks to me on varying levels, some hold deep rooted memories whilst others simply look cool. Over the coming weeks I would like to give you a glimpse into my collection and share these toy stories with you.

To begin with, I’m going to start at the beginning…

My earliest toy memory concerns puppets, specifically the long-suffering stage manager of the Muppet Theatre. Produced in 1977 by Fisher-Price, Kermit has been with me for over 35 years and despite the packaging being long gone has survived remarkably well with only a few minor scuffs. His coarse, hard material skin would seem more at home wrapped around a soldier desperately trying to stay warm in the forests of the Ardennes and his velcro extremities have provided endless hours of posing fun.

Kermit comes from an era in toys when likeness was deemed a priority and is a remarkably accurate representation of the original puppet, surpassing almost all of the more modern pretenders with only one exception. Released in 2006, the Master Replicas Kermit The Frog was a limited edition puppet produced using the actual patterns and materials used by the Muppet Workshop themselves and remains on my wish-list to this day should anyone be looking for a gift.

Despite the odd few years spent slumbering in a box he has sat on my shelves reminding me of times long past for almost four decades, but these memories have not always been happy ones.

As a physical representation of the mind of arguably one of the greatest puppeteers in the modern era, Kermit has always stirred up inside me melancholic thoughts of how little I have achieved creatively in my own life compared to Jim Henson. He is also a constant reminder of a longing to find that most wonderful of situations where you can spend your days with a group of like-minded crackpots creating greatness in whatever forms it might take.

I remember the day I heard of Jim’s death and how much of an impact it made upon me. To be so harshly informed that you would never have the opportunity to meet someone who had been a source of inspiration was heart-breaking. At times in my life I had dreamed of becoming a puppeteer and to have the opportunity to work with the Muppets, but now the person with whom I had felt such an affinity had been taken away. And taken away much too soon…

There are many books debunking everyday wisdom and old wive’s tales, but very few are written with such wit, charm and affection for the size of the male appendage as ‘Deceived Wisdom’ by David Bradley (@Sciencebase) and as someone who was lucky enough to secure a review copy from David I got to work devouring its pages immediately.

As a rather reluctant reader, I found the book’s short, easy to digest chapters a welcome relief. This is not to say that they aren’t jam-packed with amusing and informative paragraphs, far from it. Each bite-size chunk of science was as tasty as the last and I felt myself always looking forward to the next meal.

But enough with the food metaphors, what makes up the ingredients of such a delicious book?

You’ll find the usual mixture of well known classics and intriguing new pieces of wisdom all brought down to earth with insightful research and benevolent jocularity. No longer will you worry if IT is big enough, or stress about wearing a coat indoors. Tea will not be drunk on a hot day and wine will not breathe. All of the suffocating idiosyncrasies that have been weighing heavy upon your daily life will be removed and you will feel free to live a life more fulfilling*.

“There are in fact two things, science and opinion; the former begets knowledge, the latter ignorance”
Hippocrates

With Christmas fast approaching, ‘Deceived Wisdom’ would make a perfect gift for that annoying relative who keeps telling you detoxing is good for your health. Or the friend who insists Apple Macs never get viruses. If you’re really lucky, David may even sign it for you… virtually! (http://twitpic.com/dkum9m)

*Perhaps the most surprising piece of wisdom debunked was about our feline friends. Despite their apparent aloofness and intellect, cats have a much smaller and more primitive brain than dogs and are fundamentally less intelligent. Simply getting all the food and shelter they need without having to perform tricks or take on the ‘social’ skills of their canine counterparts.

Despite my best intentions the words you are about to read will in no way resemble the linguistic poetry that flows like silk from the mouth of Russell Brand or the rigid intelligence discharged by Robert Webb, and neither do they carry their celebrity clout that would see them poured over and shared by more than a few of my closest friends. But this is a democracy, it is the 21st century and I have an opinion that I intend to share.

Whether or not you agree with the idea of Brand’s revolution and his incitement not to vote, it is impossible to ignore the fact that the current political power structure is toxic. This is at the core of Brand’s passion. Why are we not discussing this? The barrage of lazy journalism that sort to deride Brand for his use of long words and naive views does not in any way address the real issue that he seeks to highlight. And to those who raise the ‘our fathers fought so that we could have the right to vote’ argument I say that you are no better than those who led to the creation of Godwin’s Law.

People don’t refuse to vote because they hate your Grandfather, and they are not all apathetic stereotypes that hang around on street corners waiting to mug old ladies. Some of them have come to the conclusion that none of those who would choose to frequent the richly decorated halls of Westminster are worth voting for.

What choice do these individuals have when it comes to polling day? How do they express their views? Spoiling your ballot is of no use, it is a powerless exercise that only serves to add your ‘hard fought right’ to a pile of papers that contain the indecipherable scribblings of those who didn’t fill the form in properly. Where is your chance to vote for change?

Only when we have an option to cast our vote for none of the candidates do we have a true democracy and a real representation of the views of the people.

You cannot tell from appearances how things will go. Sometimes imagination makes things out far worse than they are; yet without imagination not much can be done. Those people who are imaginative see many more dangers than perhaps exist; certainly many more than will happen; but then they must also pray to be given that extra courage to carry this far-reaching imagination. But for everyone, surely, what we have gone through in this period this is the lesson: never give in, never give in, never, never, never-in nothing, great or small, large or petty – never give in except to convictions of honour and good sense.

Winston Churchill