Construx, alas no longer manufactured by Fisher-Price, refers to any of a number of plastic building sets. The Construx core component, analogous to Lego's standard brick, is the beam -- a rectangular girder-like piece of plastic that could be attached to other such beams by way of blue connecting "knots." By using beams of various lengths, together with an assortment of knots (right-angled, hinged, and rotating), skeletal structures of any sort could be constructed. Once the basic frame was in place, it could be augmented by installing various accessory pieces -- panels, winches and pulleys, wheels, turntables, and seats for the various "Construx men," to whom I gave rhyming names.

The distinctive feature of Construx, especially when compared to Legos, is that Construx could be used to build practical, real-world structures and vehicles. I felt that the Construx pieces afforded a greater understanding of real-world construction (and were simply more fun to play with) than a silly collection of plastic bricks. Buildings, I intuited after playing with both Construx and Legos, were much more like my Construx constructions than my Lego constructions; I soon gave up Legos.

I used my Construx to build all sorts of things -- airplanes, spacecraft, boats, cars, buildings. For quite a while my house became a city; I scattered Construx subway stations all over the house and crawled around pulling a Construx train behind me, announcing the stops and assisting the plastic passengers with their various boardings and alightings. I once constructed a combined airport/spaceport and created an elaborate system by which all the airplanes and spacecraft could take off, land, and claim storage space at the port without interfering with one another. I was fond of creating opposing fleets of armed spacecraft; during the ferocious melees that ensued, I would rip off wings and engine pods to simulate damage, and later undertake repairs. My final Construx creation, a mammoth project that involved nearly all my pieces, was an eight-foot-long arch bridge, constructed spontaneously one afternoon in a fit of curiosity about bridges. (After all these years, the bridge still stands in my bedroom at home.)

I built what I wanted to learn about. I paid little attention to the project photos that accompanied each set; I simply opened the box and began experimenting on my own. By building an entire subway system I learned about the construction and operation of subways. My airport/spaceport taught me about managing information FAA-style. Throwing my fleets of spacecraft against one another taught me a great deal about designing for sturdiness and easy repair; I consolidated my designs over the years to resist damage and facilitate component replacement.

And, at a lower level, I learned a great deal about the mechanics involved in construction. I gained an intuitive understanding of tension, compression, stress and strain. My constructions improved structurally over the years -- cars that steered better, buildings that could support more weight, and so on. I observed the pattern formed by my broken Construx pieces, and designed my creations to forestall the possibility of more breakage.

At the same time, my intellectual/mechanical relationship with the built environment improved greatly. I could analyze real-world bridges, buildings and vehicles and understand their designs. I could comment upon innovative designs and designs that were not likely to be structurally adequate. In particular, building my eight-foot Construx arch bridge taught me a tremendous amount about such construction (if only I had cables for a suspension bridge!).

When I look around the built environment today, I am able to understand the construction of bridges, buildings and other structures. Although I never really pursued my intuitive mechanical understanding in a formal mathematical sense, the experience I gained from playing with Construx as a child was and continues to be invaluable to me as an observer, a city planner, a design critic, and a casual engineer.