After all, what other blog will bring you this particular combination of goodness? Saturday I pulled out almost all of the Star Wars vehicles and other large items I hadn’t taken pictures of or written articles about yet, and did them all in one shot. With a little help from my furry friends.
I guess I stand corrected on Othello being more interested in Star Trek:
A self-portrait reflected in the head of the large-scale R2-D2 figure:
One of the neat things about opening these things up for the first time is that there’s almost always invariably some kind of lost treasure hidden within. I’ve only just discovered this handful of almost minty-fresh figures in the past week, in the cockpits or cargo holds or other nooks and crannies over the various vehicles I’ve pulled out and photographed:
In many cases, they’re in much, much better shape than the figures I have from my own childhood. Here’s a perfect example: on the left, you see the Boba Fett I found in the cockpit of Slave I, and on the right, the one I’ve had since 1979. At some point, and no, I don’t remember why, I treated Boba Fett to a…um…paint job. Not a great one either. (Though it’s odd that I anticipated Jango Fett’s paint job at least 20 years in advance.) I did this to a dozen or so of my figures, and those that I haven’t been able to fix I’ve tried to find replacements for over the years. I just wasn’t expecting a motherlode of them with…well…what was already a motherlode of Star Wars goodness. I had also changed up the helmet markings on my X-Wing Pilot Luke, and neither of my Jawas still had their cloth capes, and VINCENT had lost the two little “side arms” that stick out from, well, his sides, and had also been subjected to a paint job.
As for why I did a Star Wars toy overdose today, the time is fast approaching for me to put these things up on a shelf and admire them from outside their boxes as we get ready for baby. I’m not planning on getting rid of them at any point soon. If anything, I want to be able to show my kid how cool my childhood was(well, and Andrew’s childhood too π ).
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