As a sort of post-script to this previous post, in which I held my memory upside-down, shook it hard, and watched old quarters tumble out, and while glancing through a catalog that was still stashed away in the back of one of these recently acquired Star Wars goodies, I had another memory come tumbling back into focus, reminding me of just how intertwined my memories of old toys and old video games are. I remembered my tenth birthday, July 1982, with great clarity. Unbeknownst to me, my mom had been stockpiling Star Wars goodies for quite a while, getting what she could when she could, and was getting ready to foist all of ’em on me at once. But she needed me out of the house for this. The solution? She had my older brother drag me down to the arcade for a while – a long while. We were there for at least a couple of hours, so I’m assuming he was buying some gift-wrapping time. I distinctly remember playing Star Trek and Kickman aplenty during this sortie, which may subconsciously be the reason that one of the latter is sitting behind me right now as I type this. Shawn kept shoveling quarters into my hands, and we were actually there long enough for me to get a little bit bored with it. (Me? Bored? In an arcade? I must’ve been running a fever.)
I remember getting home and the traditional shredding of giftwrap, and the stars of the show being just about all of the “Micro Collection” Hoth scenes; that’s a segment of my collection I’ll have repopulate on my own dime if I ever decide to do so, but the first thing that I remembered about the Micro Collection sets after seeing them in a catalog reactivated those synapses was that birthday. I don’t even remember what happened to the sets themselves – for some reason, I’m not sure those even made it up to Wisconsin and back with me. Maybe they were given away to someone else? I don’t remember.
With all of this Star Wars stuff on the brain, I’ve been thinking that, in the unlikely event that I ever get a book published, the author photo needs to be set against a background of boxed Star Wars toys and games cartridges, along with a goodly selection of ELO LPs, all arranged around the Kickman machine like they’re piled up around the tree on Christmas morning.
I suppose all of this recent rambling on old toys and old games really demands the questions “At what point is it enough? At what point have I captured enough of my childhood to move forward with my life?”, and more to the point, demands answers. The thing is, I really don’t feel like I’m stuck in the past. For me, keeping this stuff around is like a doorstop, keeping the door from shutting forever on those childhood memories. It’s funny, but my memories of old video games don’t center around a really stunning game and a great high score. My memories of old toys don’t center around any byzantine plots that I came up with while playing with them. The memories center on other things that were going on in my life and in my family at the same time. I have to think that it’s the same way for everyone. And as regressive as it may sound, I’d happily make a career out of remembering this stuff for people wholesale (well, okay, maybe not wholesale, just had to get my Philip K. Dick joke in for the day – but let’s just say at competitive rates) to facilitate the same fond remembrances for them.
That millieu of music, toys, games and TV shows, either old or evoking that same vibe as the old, is, in a nutshell, why this site is here.
Well, you just basically summed up the ending of Commodork quite nicely. 🙂 In the first chapter of the book I posed a couple of questions, one of which was “why am I still buying all this stuff.” At the end of the book, I felt like I had to address those same questions — although, when I began writing it, I wasn’t even sure myself why I was doing and buying some of the things I’ve purchased over the years. (My most recent acquisition? A complete collection of those little rubber UFOs and spaceships they used to give away in Happy Meals in the late 70’s/early 80’s. Meeeeeemorieeeees.)
So yeah — my arcade “want list” consists of the games I played in my local convenient store, even if they aren’t as exciting as others from that same era. When I look at my Gauntlet cab I remember Andy’s 12th birthday. My Shinobi cabinet reminds me of hours spent at the convenient store, while Karate Champ reminds me of the times my friends and I used to hang out at the bowling alley. They’re all really big post-it notes, constantly reminding me of my youth. It’s all explained in more detail in the book (I don’t want to give the ending away!)
Oh and by the way, and I’m sure “what happened to your micromachine collection” is what happened to all of our micromachine collections. Over time you lost all the people, leaving behind an abandonded Hoth. It was already a cold, desolate planet WITH the people — without them, it was just a big boring chunk o’ ice.
I remembered my tenth birthday, July 1982, with great clarity. Unbeknownst to me, my mom had been stockpiling Star Wars goodies for quite a while, getting what she could when she could, and was getting ready to foist all of ’em on me at once. But she needed me out of the house for this. The solution? She had my older brother drag me down to the arcade for a while – a long while. We were there for at least a couple of hours, so I’m assuming he was buying some gift-wrapping time. I distinctly remember playing Star Trek and Kickman aplenty during this sortie, which may subconsciously be the reason that one of the latter is sitting behind me right now as I type this. Shawn kept shoveling quarters into my hands, and we were actually there long enough for me to get a little bit bored with it. (Me? Bored? In an arcade? I must’ve been running a fever.) 
Well, you just basically summed up the ending of Commodork quite nicely. 🙂 In the first chapter of the book I posed a couple of questions, one of which was “why am I still buying all this stuff.” At the end of the book, I felt like I had to address those same questions — although, when I began writing it, I wasn’t even sure myself why I was doing and buying some of the things I’ve purchased over the years. (My most recent acquisition? A complete collection of those little rubber UFOs and spaceships they used to give away in Happy Meals in the late 70’s/early 80’s. Meeeeeemorieeeees.)
So yeah — my arcade “want list” consists of the games I played in my local convenient store, even if they aren’t as exciting as others from that same era. When I look at my Gauntlet cab I remember Andy’s 12th birthday. My Shinobi cabinet reminds me of hours spent at the convenient store, while Karate Champ reminds me of the times my friends and I used to hang out at the bowling alley. They’re all really big post-it notes, constantly reminding me of my youth. It’s all explained in more detail in the book (I don’t want to give the ending away!)
Oh and by the way, and I’m sure “what happened to your micromachine collection” is what happened to all of our micromachine collections. Over time you lost all the people, leaving behind an abandonded Hoth. It was already a cold, desolate planet WITH the people — without them, it was just a big boring chunk o’ ice.