Buzz, Woody bring childhood to life
I took the kids to see Toy Story 3 last week at the Hempstead Theater.
I love the Toy Story movies. In fact, I like just about all of the Pixar/Disney films. The Toy Story trilogy, however, has a special place in my heart. When I first saw the original Toy Story, I thought someone had probed into my life and crafted a film around my childhood imagination.
The protagonists were a cowboy and a spaceman. My heroes were the Lone Ranger and Capt. Kirk. The toys, Woody and Buzz, were owned by Andy, a little boy who could have been me. I loved to play with action figures and imagined all kinds of adventures for them.
It may not have been very manly to shun sports for action figures (don’t you dare call them dolls!), but I didn’t mind. I’ve never had the eye-hand coordination or blazing speed to be competitive in athletic endeavors, but I had a vivid imagination. My toys could take me to places only my mind could go.
The antagonist in the original Toy Story was a mean kid named Sid. I’ve been Sid. In my early teens I had a thing for blowing stuff up with firecrackers. But most of the time I’ve been Andy, treating my toys though as if they were living things. On weekday mornings before school, “The Lone Ranger” came on TV. I would watch it with my Lone Ranger and Tonto figures sitting on their horses so they could see it, too. I’d get angry if my brothers sat in their way. After all, it was their show and they had a right to watch it with me.
I still have those figures. They’re displayed on a shelf above my desk. I have a second Lone Ranger figure here in my office. But the toys I really miss are the old Mego superhero figures. I had a huge collection, including the Star Trek figures (and bridge set), Spider-Man, Batman, Superman, Captain America, Fantastic Four and more, including many of the villains. But I left them one day at a friend’s house. The next thing I knew, they were packed up and his family moved to Oklahoma. I never saw my figures or my friend again. What I wouldn’t give to have those back, including the friend.
I had other figures, too, such as Johnny West, G.I. Joe, Muhammad Ali, Six Million Dollar Man and Evel Knievel, among others. But the Lone Ranger and Mego figures have always been my favorites.
In 1977, when Star Wars came out, I just knew Mego would make a line of Star Wars figures. Little did I know at the time that Mego had gone out of business. I got stuck collecting the little, plastic, 2-inch figures instead. I collected them all, including the mail-order Boba Fett. But when I reached my mid-teens, I figured I had outgrown action figures and I sold off the Star Wars set at a garage sale for 50 cents each. D’oh!
When the new trilogy of Star Wars films came out, I bought the action figures for my children (at least, that was my excuse). When they gave them up, I took them back and they now sit on a shelf here in my office.
In 1995, when Toy Story came out, I got my daughter the Buzz and Woody figures. Yeah, like a 3-year-old girl wants anything to do with that. The figures went from her to each of her younger brothers. Buzz bit it a couple years ago when someone barfed on him and we couldn’t get it cleaned out. Woody was headed for a garage sale before I intercepted him and plopped him amid my stuffed raccoon collection.
I don’t know what possesses me to possess my collections. Maybe it’s just the memories or the way the toys fire up my imagination. I certainly don’t idolize them. I could even live without them, though there would be an empty spot in my heart.
Maybe the thing that’s so appealing to me is watching how we grow and change through the eyes of our toys. In Toy Story 3, we got to see Andy head off to college. The movie was a coming of age for the boy and his toys. It addressed many of the fears of the future that were hinted at in the second movie – college, storage, landfills and children destroying toys.
As I grow older, I know I’d love to see my toys passed down through the generations behind me. My kids don’t have an interest in my toys. They barely keep interest in their own things. But maybe there will be a day when, at the very least, they see the monetary value of keeping these old playthings. Better yet, maybe one of them or their children will love and respect them the way I do. If so, I know they’ll be taken care of for infinity and beyond.
I love the Toy Story movies. In fact, I like just about all of the Pixar/Disney films. The Toy Story trilogy, however, has a special place in my heart. When I first saw the original Toy Story, I thought someone had probed into my life and crafted a film around my childhood imagination.
The protagonists were a cowboy and a spaceman. My heroes were the Lone Ranger and Capt. Kirk. The toys, Woody and Buzz, were owned by Andy, a little boy who could have been me. I loved to play with action figures and imagined all kinds of adventures for them.
It may not have been very manly to shun sports for action figures (don’t you dare call them dolls!), but I didn’t mind. I’ve never had the eye-hand coordination or blazing speed to be competitive in athletic endeavors, but I had a vivid imagination. My toys could take me to places only my mind could go.
The antagonist in the original Toy Story was a mean kid named Sid. I’ve been Sid. In my early teens I had a thing for blowing stuff up with firecrackers. But most of the time I’ve been Andy, treating my toys though as if they were living things. On weekday mornings before school, “The Lone Ranger” came on TV. I would watch it with my Lone Ranger and Tonto figures sitting on their horses so they could see it, too. I’d get angry if my brothers sat in their way. After all, it was their show and they had a right to watch it with me.
I still have those figures. They’re displayed on a shelf above my desk. I have a second Lone Ranger figure here in my office. But the toys I really miss are the old Mego superhero figures. I had a huge collection, including the Star Trek figures (and bridge set), Spider-Man, Batman, Superman, Captain America, Fantastic Four and more, including many of the villains. But I left them one day at a friend’s house. The next thing I knew, they were packed up and his family moved to Oklahoma. I never saw my figures or my friend again. What I wouldn’t give to have those back, including the friend.
I had other figures, too, such as Johnny West, G.I. Joe, Muhammad Ali, Six Million Dollar Man and Evel Knievel, among others. But the Lone Ranger and Mego figures have always been my favorites.
In 1977, when Star Wars came out, I just knew Mego would make a line of Star Wars figures. Little did I know at the time that Mego had gone out of business. I got stuck collecting the little, plastic, 2-inch figures instead. I collected them all, including the mail-order Boba Fett. But when I reached my mid-teens, I figured I had outgrown action figures and I sold off the Star Wars set at a garage sale for 50 cents each. D’oh!
When the new trilogy of Star Wars films came out, I bought the action figures for my children (at least, that was my excuse). When they gave them up, I took them back and they now sit on a shelf here in my office.
In 1995, when Toy Story came out, I got my daughter the Buzz and Woody figures. Yeah, like a 3-year-old girl wants anything to do with that. The figures went from her to each of her younger brothers. Buzz bit it a couple years ago when someone barfed on him and we couldn’t get it cleaned out. Woody was headed for a garage sale before I intercepted him and plopped him amid my stuffed raccoon collection.
I don’t know what possesses me to possess my collections. Maybe it’s just the memories or the way the toys fire up my imagination. I certainly don’t idolize them. I could even live without them, though there would be an empty spot in my heart.
Maybe the thing that’s so appealing to me is watching how we grow and change through the eyes of our toys. In Toy Story 3, we got to see Andy head off to college. The movie was a coming of age for the boy and his toys. It addressed many of the fears of the future that were hinted at in the second movie – college, storage, landfills and children destroying toys.
As I grow older, I know I’d love to see my toys passed down through the generations behind me. My kids don’t have an interest in my toys. They barely keep interest in their own things. But maybe there will be a day when, at the very least, they see the monetary value of keeping these old playthings. Better yet, maybe one of them or their children will love and respect them the way I do. If so, I know they’ll be taken care of for infinity and beyond.
posted by Joe Southern | 10:22 AM
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