}

Sunday, September 13, 2009

Toyland training

The other day on Twitter, one of my “Tweeps” (people I follow/am followed by) asked something about favourite childhood toys. The replies were varied, as you’d expect, and the youngest didn’t necessarily know what the oldest was talking about, or vice versa. A fair bit of explaining was done.

Many of the toys I had were connected to television, mostly through commercials. The 1960s was the era in which advertising to kids took off, and cross-promotions began. Like other kids, I was trained to play consumer.

One of the TV toys I remember most is a Johnny West doll with his Indian friend Chief Cherokee, by Marx. Johnny came with his horse, Thunderbolt, but I never got any more of the accessories, including a horse for Chief Cherokee, so I used to borrow my sister’s horse statue (I can’t remember if I ever asked, and so I don’t know that she knew her horse was being ridden by a plastic Indian doll). This was all very un-PC, of course, but it also wasn’t very interesting: I got sick of them pretty fast.

GI Joe dolls (by Hasbro) were far more interesting. I had them when they were a foot tall and couldn’t “talk”. Unlike Johnny West, you could take their clothes off (and they weren’t anatomically correct), but like the Johnny West dolls, they came with a lot of accessories—the GI Joe ones were definitely more realistic. I liked them a lot. I actually remember having my two GI Joe dolls naked, lying on top of each other, kissing. Kids do the darndest things…

There were two toys I really wanted, thanks to TV commercials, but both turned out to be less than advertised. The first was a large, battery-powered tow truck called Big Bruiser. It seemed so cool on black and white TV ad, but it was a little limited in what it could do. The tow truck broke fairly quickly, but I had the pickup truck and parts for quite awhile afterward.

The other disappointing toy I found out the name of only when I was looking for links for this post: It was a semi-trailer truck operated by a kind of gearshift remote control attached with a cord. It was called Johnny Express and was made by Topper, a company that apparently named all their toys “Johnny” something. My version was a little before the “new, new, new” version in the linked commercial—mine didn’t have headlights or a horn. It also broke pretty quickly and, like Big Bruiser, could only go forward or backward. Not all that interesting. And, since I never got any of the accessories, I had to play with my other toys.

The toys that lasted the longest were all made of metal. Biggest of these were Tonka Trucks (now owned by Hasbro). While they were mostly trucks, one of my sister’s high school boyfriends gave me a black Tonka VW Beetle. Those toys were indestructible and outlasted my childhood (they probably would’ve survived nuclear war…).

Far more numerous were my Matchbox cars by Lesney. Originally solidly made die cast metal, they declined when Mattel introduced Hot Wheels. Matchbox introduced Superfast to compete, but eventually the company went bankrupt and is now owned, ironically, by Mattel—the company that made Hot Wheels.

I had so many Matchbox cars that I had to get a bigger carrying case. I had them into adulthood, but lost them in one of my many moves when I was a young adult. I actually still miss them.

There were other toys I had because of TV (like a “Do Bee” handpuppet and some modelling clay from Romper Room or Play-Doh), but the main toy from television—and the only one I still have—is Gumby and his pony pal, Pokey, too. I spent hours and hours playing with them (and for awhile I also had a rubber Bozo the Clown who was about the same height as Gumby). I had no accessories, no related toys, but I didn’t need them: In the 1960s version of Gumby, he and Pokey often used toys—real toys, including some that I had, too—as if they were real (like driving a car, for example). This really appealed to me. And I also liked that he could “walk into any book” for his adventures.

The storylines were often creaky (at best), the animation primitive by today’s standards, and were generally empty entertainment—and I loved every minute of them.

Gumby was produced by Clokey Productions, which also produced a series called "Davey & Goliath" for the Lutheran church. I used to love that, too and it's reputedly the longest-running church-sponsored programming on television. They were wholesome, Lutheran, and similar enough to Gumby and Pokey that I liked that, too, but I didn't have any toys from it, and wouldn't have wanted any.

In the mid-1980s, I found a VHS tape of Gumby episodes and bought it (I still have it). Then, I found a Gumby watch (I wore it, but it was hot). I still have that, too. An ex-boyfriend gave me a set of Gumby and Pokey puffy stickers, and I think I MAY have them packed away somewhere.

When the subject of toys came up on Twitter, I was looking for information on Gumby and found out that the episodes were available on DVD (seems most anything is now…). The other day, I saw it at a store in Auckland and bought it (buying the combined set was cheaper than buying 1 and 2 separately, you see).

A final toy I wanted because of television arrived much later: The Fright Factory Thingmaker toy by Mattel. In those days, kids could get seriously burned from the things. I got Etch-A-Sketch, Spirograph and other toys, but of all of them, Gumby and Pokey are the only ones that have stayed with me—for more than forty years now.

I could add games, and I did have a few, like Booby Trap, Hands Down, Mousetrap and, when I was quite young, Candyland, but there was a problem: As a young kid I didn’t have many friends (there weren’t many kids around), so I usually didn’t have anyone to play them with (although I do remember setting up Mousetrap and playing with the contraption).

Which is why the toys I could play with by myself were the ones I liked so much. Many of my toys were hand-me-downs, or completely unrelated to television, but the ones I remember the most—and would still own if I could—were all sold to me on television.

I still find most of my toys on TV. I was trained to play consumer, after all.

9 comments:

Nessa said...

My first toy that I have a memory of was a silver and blue Tonka truck. My dad really wanted a boy I think. I had that truck until my oldest cousin was born, I think I was 9. Until then, Tonka drove Barbie to work. (even though she barely fit in the bed of the truck.)

Also, when I was around the same age, there was a TV station that played Gumby and Casper cartoons. I had a Pokey doll at some point. I could sing the theme right now if I really thought about it.

Mark from Slap said...

While I guess I'm from a slightly different generation (He-Man!), I did have a big, metal, Tonka dumptruck.

When my sister was still small enough to fit in its dumping bed, I used to cart her around, making ride-through haunted houses.

Arthur Schenck said...

I'm fascinated about the memories people have of their childhood toys. The toys differ (yes, era matters), but the themes are similar. I think that children are far more clever than they're given credit for,

Roger Owen Green said...

Davey and Goliath! That animation style used to terrify me.

I'm old enough to remember lots of Wham-O products like Slip and Slide. We also used to have Jarts, these huge outdoor darts you would try to toss into a ring (think horseshoes) until the FTC banned them as too dangerous.

My toy was Johnny 7 OMA (one man army); 7 guns in one including a machine gun and a grenade launcher. I've never heard anyone mention it except Tom Hanks on the Tonight Show.

Roger Owen Green said...

Having nothing to do with toys, unless TV is your toy: Fear of a Gay Planet from Salon.

Arthur Schenck said...

I remember some Whammo things, but don't remember getting them. We had a cheaper brand of "Lawn Darts" (Jarts were expensive). I didn't remember the Johnny 7 OMA until I looked at the commercial on YouTube—then I remembered how much I wanted one. I also wanted Topper Sixfinger and especially Topper's Secret Sam. I never got any of them.

amerinz's sis said...

Was that my favorite horse that's rearing up? The one that Dad bought me after talking the store owner into selling the only one he had left and which was in his store window? The one that I still have today and cherish? I don't know if I knew you borrowed it or if it seems like I knew because I've been thinking about since I read your blog. At least you put it to good use and I still have it.

I still have two dolls, one of which became Baby Jesus (but that's a whole different story).
I just threw away my Tiny Tears doll because she was beyond repair after spending many years in the attic.

I had a lot of fun with my hoola hoop, pogo stick, and roller skates that had a strap with a buckle to secure my feet by my ankles and, at the toes, a clamp that tightened and loosened with the turn of a key. Skating on brand new, smooth cement sidewalks was the best!

Arthur Schenck said...

Yep, that's the horse. And it was hard to make Chief Cherokee look like he was riding a real horse. Mind you, Johnny West's nag just stood there, so it wasn't any better. One day, when you have a digital camera (ahem!) you'll have to take a photo for me.

Actually, I should have you do a guest post about that doll—especially because I don't really know all the details (beings SO much younger and all…).

Seriously, I remember your skates (no, I never tried them) and the pogo stick (which I did try) and the hula hoop (don't remember either way). I also remember a little metal sheathed case (red, maybe?) that held all sorts of doll clothes. That fascinated me, too, in part because it was miniature copies of real things.

amerinz's sis said...

You're right. It was a red metal wardrobe trunk. I loved it. Open it up and it had a small drawer for the doll's shoes and socks and a sliding rack where I hung her clothes on one side, while the other had plenty of space for the doll. This was for my Ginny doll, although I also used it for a doll that was like a Barbie (before Barbie was invented).

The clothes were homemade by Mom. To this day I'm amazed at how she could sew such tiny seams and all. I don't know what happened to that trunk. I don't think it's packed away. If it is, I'll let you know when I find it.

Ah, memories.