When I was little, I preferred stuffed animals over any other toy. I didn't give a shit about Barbie's dream house or Polly's Pocket or anything else advertised on TV. (I'm sure my parents could cite an exception or two, but they would definitely agree with my obsession with teddy bears.) I had about a hundred stuffed animals, many with complicated family trees and personalities and "memories". I could have made a teddy bear soap opera with all the plots I had running simultaneously.
It turns out that I'm not the only one with a love for teddy bears. We insist on anthropomorphizing them all these years after Roosevelt's burial, reinterpreting these powerful beasts to downplay the danger innate to all wild animals.
Whatever works, I guess.
So, I'd like to invite you to Bear Country...
Some of us are just content to hang out and enjoy the view.
But we've also got a burgeoning labor force determined to make our city the best and brightest.
We're quickly becoming a popular vacation destination!
Just don't feed us after midnight.
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There once was a woman who lived in a shoe.