Here, in this instance 'possession' isn't in the "nine tenths of the law" type, oh no... No, I'm considering more like the "Linda Blaire with Dick Smith working the tubes, green pea soup spraying" kind of possession.
I'll go as far back as Cabbage Patch Kids- if you remember those little mounds of angelic fluff, course linen and dim "beef cheek" plastic heads that came in all manner of hair style and ethnic dirivitave colors and the all out "Thunderdome" craze it created back in the day... Why?
At what point did sane people begin to lose those tenacious strings of common sense and abandon them for a meelee with complete strangers over a stuffed doll that today, no one seems to have [or, last I checked, there doesn't seem to be a trade fair for these things]?
I suppose I'll have to check the 'Net for sites dedicated to their continued survival [and possible revival- I seem to remember seeing their slow and methodical return as a mediocre attempt at their "Elvis Revival" in a Wal-mart just recently].
Beany Babies.
Personally- one question... "Why?" This question would also apply to Smurfs...
Please don't get me wrong- I certainly won't begrudge ANYONE their fun, and if that fun and amusement comes in the form of a cheaply strung together figurine filled with beans, [really- no kidding?] and an "official" sticker or card signifying it's "authenticity"- I will certainly NOT point a finger and laugh. My passions are surely as equal, if not greater, an oddity to any other person or group of persons' desires for the simpler things.
Other than to mention my own personal axiom "The Only Good Smurf, is a Dead One"- here's where I'm going with this...
I'm a big fanatic [no, not fan- a fan is someone that enjoys a craft, trade, possession or past time: I'm a fanatic- I can not live without that which I wish to possess!] for the space program- especially manned space flight. As a child I watched Neil Armstrong step on the moon- not only for the significant importance of the event but because it was well past my 5 year old bed time so "it had to be an important event to get to stay up that late"!
That Christmas back in 1969 saw both Apollo 11 and Apollo 12 come and go. Christmas shopping was all about "Space". Two items I lived for as part of my childhood experience was GI Joe and Major Matt Mason. If it existed and it wasn't so expensive my parents couldn't justify me tearing it up in 20 minutes time, I most likely had that product.
One thing that I "rubbed every bit of love off of" as a child was a toy Snoopy wearing a remarkably similar Apollo style spacesuit with the "bubble gum" style helmet known to be worn by Neil, Buzz, Al and Pete.One day back in the blurr of youth, Snoopy had eventually worn out of his suit and the imaginary cartoon adventures I'd sent him on. Sooner, rather than later, eventually even that toy Snoopy succumbed to either the ravages of rough play or a mother who's momentary [and decidedly unbiased] lapse in judgement most likely sent him to a landfill somewhere in the bowels of Southern Illinois.
Fast forward some 35 years later.
I'm missing much of the hair I once had, but the boyish passion for all things space haven't left my mind or body. One day I find myself missing this little hunk of plastic and cloth shaped like a dog. Perhaps it's because by this time I have a 3 year old- and he's dangerously close to that age I was when it was all new and perhaps even magical.
At any rate, suffice it to say I attend a particular show here called Florida Extraveganza, or FX for short. It's one of teh biggest toy shows and collector/vendor 'ground zero' for Central Florida. Being as GI Joe is my passion, I have attended all but one since it's inception.
Well- I managed to find one of those Snoopy Astronauts lodged in a cabinet of one of the 'dog row' isles [how apropos!]. He wasn't the cheapest thing in the world [I seem to remember paying about $85 for a moderately decent one- but certainly not perfect by any stretch of the imagination] but just cheap enough to keep me from walking away from a piece of my childhood...
Paying that much for a hunk of plastic- old plastic in this instance- seems crazy. I have to look at myself and ask- is what I did any crazier than what others are doing with beef cheek dolls, bean bags, or small die-cast metal racers?
Perhaps- but I have a story to back up each and everything I have on my shelf. And maybe that's where I mark the line in the sand between passion and perversion- possession and possessed.
I think it's the stories- not the hunt and capture of the sail or the one of a kind- it's the history, teh mythos of a life well lived- and if not well, then lived none-the-less...
I continue to be;
Russ
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