Over the years we've tried many strategies to keep the kids quiet on the four-hour odyssey from home to "back home," i.e. my wife's grandmother's place in Preeceville, my dad's farm near Hyas and mom's acreage on the edge of Yorkton. Few seem to work for long, but this past Thanksgiving, there was one solution: the Sears Wish Book.
Our six-year-old son Spencer discovered a copy at Baba's place, and begged to take it home with us. It was amazing to see his reaction as he dutifully, carefully, flipped each page, soaking it all in.
It was me, 32 years ago. I immediately recognized the eyes-glazed-over look, the wonderment of all the different and cool toys, things I never even imagined existed.
I can still clearly remember the early 1980s Wish Book Star Wars pages. In 1981 I was precisely Spencer's age, 6. The year before The Empire Strikes Back came out in theatres, and the marketing was still going strong. Everyone knows that Empire was the best of all the six Star Wars movies, with the opening act showing the battle on the ice planet Hoth. I had never seen the movie, and back then most people didn't have video cassette players to rent movies either. But I did have some of the bubble cards, a talking book with a 45 rpm record, and the Wish Book.
On that page of the Wish Book was an AT-AT, the giant, lumbering walkers that attacked Echo Base on Hoth. It was the coolest toy ever! The commercials showed little boys my age crushing Styrofoam cups with its mammoth feet. That 1981 commercial, believe it or not, can still be found online on YouTube (http://youtu.be/CPCtC5-JuoY). Obviously I wasn't the only person who was fascinated by it.
From the back seat I could hear Spencer saying "Ooooo, Lego Ninjago!" or "Lego Star Wars!"
Oddly, the Lego Star Wars collection rates two pages, but the Star Wars proper toys rates only one. Just wait until the new movies come out in a few years. They will catch up.
As anyone who watches Big Bang Theory knows, there's still quite the market out there for the toys that nerds like me grew up with. The difference is that, now, in our 30s or even 40s, we have this thing called MONEY. Instead of wishing for the toys we wanted, or pining after the ones we once had, we just whip out the Visa or MasterCard and take it home.
I discovered this fact over the summer when I walked into Toys R Us, looking for something for my kids and a birthday gift when I came across the Millennium Falcon and the aforementioned AT-AT. Both were packaged just as they were back in the early 1980s. This was not packaging meant to draw the eye of the iPod/Nintendo DS generation, but rather my generation. The AT-AT looked almost identical to when I unwrapped mine under the Christmas tree in 1981 (the toy in the store is based on the 1983 Return of the Jedi packaging, so it's not exactly the same, just 99.9 per cent). It was only $149.99! How could I resist that? (An empty wallet and a terse text back from my wife proved sufficient.) And the Millennium Falcon was $269.99! My Millennium Falcon was picked up second hand at an auction sale, with parts missing. This would be a complete set. Since both toys mysteriously vanished when I was in university, I am currently doing without.
What sort of fool dishes out that much coin for a simple plastic toy for their kids? No one. But for themselves, for a generation that will buy themselves a quad, sled or boat at the drop of a hat? Here's the card, buddy. Be careful you don't damage the packaging!
Perhaps someday Spencer will have the same experience, watching his own son gleefully wishing from the Wish Book. However, since I'm sure the dead tree catalogue is on its last legs, his kids will probably view them on some computer screen, or perhaps holographic imager.
Will it be the same? I doubt it. It won't leave as much to the imagination as the paper version did, and boy, was there a world of imagining to be had as a kid.
I think I have to go to Toys R Us now. Don't tell my wife.
- Brian Zinchuk is editor of Pipeline News. He can be reached at [email protected].
