The Price of a Hobby

One of my biggest Lego challenges is fitting everything I want to build into the small space of a New York City apartment. That’s why I’ve expanded Little Brick Township to multiple levels, including a thriving underground that will soon get the fish and chips shop and upstairs apartment that The LEGO Group issued this year as  Tudor Corner.

More recently, though, I added another construction to my Ninjago City that divides my dining and living room. I’d initially bought the original Ninjago City when it first came out in 2019 to donate to my daughter’s classroom — until I found out the shelf it would sit on was broken and likely to dump the entire construction onto the floor the moment I placed it there. Instead, I moved it to my new apartment four months later and added Ninjago City Gardens in 2023. I took a pass on Ninjago City Harbor and Ninjago City Markets because both constructions were more wide that high, and space is at a premium. Last weekend, though, I added Ninjago City Workshops, another stacked construction, though I moved the mech to another location, because the metallic behemoth would have disturbed the tranquility of the temple that is part of City Gardens. It’s now at the back of the city, part of its increasingly militarized law enforcement. I also modified the city to add a public restroom at the docks and a platform for workers to cross from the Ninjago City elevator to the workshop crane. The haphazard construction, inspired by Hong Kong’s Kowloon Walled City, invites further modifications, as well as the addition of many more minifigures.

But now I’m facing a second obstacle to my Lego hobby. Tariffs and the falling value of the U.S. dollar as a result of the regime’s capricious economic policies. After years of prices on par with those in Europe, U.S. Lego buyers are now paying, on average, 10 percent more. It’s galling to see the higher prices in comparison to those of our European peers, for whom I’m already suffering Democracy Envy. Yes, I can afford to pay $20 more for a set costing $200. Yes, it’s also a reminder that their grass is greener.

I won’t stop buying out of principle or financial necessity, but I’ll probably buy less, do more with what I have, and barter with other builders for what I need. And that’s a good thing on many levels. People do buy too much stuff that they don’t need, and that stuff has a price in terms of the environment as well as their own finances. But it’s ironic that a regime party once associated with free-market abundance is lecturing us about the virtues of giving up material goods and embracing austerity and deprivation. Girls only need two dolls instead of 30, the leader says, which is also creepy and sexist because he’s not asking boys to give up their WWE action figures or children in general to give up vehicles or building toys. However, he’s also telling us that children only need five pencils, a dig at the value of investing in education and creative work. I go through pencils quickly writing my verse novels, and so do children who complete their homework with diligence.

Whatever our views on accumulating material goods, freedom-loving people don’t like being lectured by their government on what they should and shouldn’t buy. And nobody deserves to be ruined by policies designed to enrich a few favored interests, billionaires, and insider traders at the expense of the many.

In the meantime, enjoy pictures on my completed Ninjago city — completed because there’s absolutely no more room on the shelf unless I once again build upward. With this diorama will come more stories, because the mind is free and, as Sónia in my verse novel Eyes Open demonstrates, creativity is key to resistance in times of deprivation and oppression.