So I came in the door the other day and, in somewhat of a miracle, no one was home.
What was this strange silence enveloping me?
Quickly, I spotted them.
On the coffee table were some ‘Tech Deck’ toys, mini ramps and skateboards and tiny BMX bikes.
So I did what any middle-aged lad would do when presented with such an opportunity?
I sat down and began to play, of course.
Creating tricks and jumps and spins with my nimble thumbs and fingers, the only part of me which I can still claim as mildly athletic.
Of course, I’ve since injured my thumb but that was after my dextrous mini Tony Hawk-like skills were on full display for only the dog and cats to be amazed by.
My immediate thought after playtime was “I have to get into the crawl space.”
While I’m not 100 per cent sure (my knees prevent me from any deep exploring in the murky underhouseworld), I’m fairly certain there’s a box of toys down there I occasionally get a hankerin’ to find.
I know there’s hundreds of Hot Wheels and various other items but I really wanted to find my favourite toys from when I was very little – a battery-operated space scene which featured a robot, a space ship and more.
They still worked the last time I saw them, decades ago. I haven’t found them online because I can’t remember what they were called and everything I’ve looked up isn’t them. It’s my own personal mission to Mars. Help me, Elon Musk.
I’m of the mind that you should never be too old to play with toys. I know as you get older, it’s supposed to turn into boats and ATVs and muscle cars and the like.
But I know for a fact that I could be at a very formal function, and if I somehow spotted a Fisher Price castle off in the corner, I’d inevitably excuse myself and be defending my tower and imprisoning enemies in no time.
If I had to make a speech and someone produced an old hand-held Mattel Football game, well, no speech would be available. If a couple of my buddies were in attendance and someone found mini sticks, an impromptu Stanley Cup tourney would break out then and there.
I still have the very first toy I ever received, a stuffed tiger named Timmy given to me when I was born.
He’s much worse for wear, but I still have him.
I went through my mental Rolodex of favourite toys, in wildly random order. A Nerf ball could be used to invent almost any game. You could throw wicked curveballs for badminton, baseball, or soak it to toss at your sister and her friends.
I thought of cap guns (I can still smell them) and View Masters. Invisible ink quiz books for long trips. Rock ’Em Sock ’Em Robots and Etch-A-Sketch.
Weebles. They wobbled but they won’t fall down. (They did, however, succumb to being shot at with BB guns).
I believe I still have an old Meccano set (motor and all) under my Dad’s house.
I remember the Yo-Yo craze and crappy plastic skateboards.
The Atari 2600 and Intellivision were better than any of today’s video games.
Board games by the dozen. Jacks. Slot-car racing sets (I can smell them right now, too).
So much fun. I’d actually like to retroactively thank my parents because, wow, did we ever have a lot of toys.
I know I’m forgetting all kinds of them (do lawn darts count as toys or weapons?) and will think of a bunch more as soon as I file this column.
What were your favourite toys? I’d love to hear tales from your own youth. Do you miss any of them? Wish you kept any? Have you kept any that your children or grandchildren play with to this day?
Drop me a line and let me know.
PQB News/VI Free Daily editor Philip Wolf welcomes your questions, comments and story ideas. He can be reached at 250-905-0029 or via email at philip.wolf@blackpress.ca.
