TOYS ARE US : The Turtle Blimp Disaster

Can you recall Christmases (or other gift giving occasions) when you received a present and a parent or guardian asked you to "hold up" your prize for the purposes of photography? I found it to be generally annoying from a very young age - which is why people eventually stoped asking me to do that dance on command. Now, of course, I regret not having pictures of me showing off every gift I ever got - not just for the purposes of a silly nostalgia website, but for my own cheap amusement. It would also help me to better frame my past and orient myself in a more structured and complete manner. Or something. 

Seen here is my father on Christmas morning in 1988, doing that exact thing and holding up a freshly unwrapped copy of The Voyage of the Beagle by Charles Darwin. But this also serves as the only physical evidence of my doomed Playmates Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Turtle Blimp.

**activate ZOOM and ENHANCE**

In my mind I always equate Ninja Turtles toys to the very early 90s, when the action figures got weirder and more far-reaching with characters like Fugitoid and Pizzaface - that's when I remember really immersing myself in Turtle collecting. In fact, at this point in history (December 25, 1988) the Playmates Ninja Turtle toyline was barely a few months old - heck I'm surprised I even knew who the Turtles were let alone had any of their merchandise. My guess is this blimp was probably accompanied by some other TMNT gifts, which most likely made this morning my official introduction to this prominent institution of the 1980s. And it's probably that freshness in the relationship that was the basis of my maturity and nonchalance in the face of tragedy later that Christmas Day.

I didn't really have too many "playsets" or "vehicles" in my toy collections - largely because I never actively played with the toys, so the accessories would often remain as bulky floor displays and showroom models that battled their action figure counterparts for shelf space. Obviously I was never gonna turn down a Batmobile or Ecto-1, but they spent their lives parked alongside their immobile owners. Though at 5 years old I can't imagine myself lusting after (or even asking for) a cumbersome vinyl balloon from a brand new cartoon that hadn't even fully captured my passion yet. Still though, the thought was nice, and I graciously accepted it as the kinda badass extravagant toy that it was. And I'm sure I wasn't openly appreciative then but my father went ahead and immediately inflated this giant conveyance with what I can assume was coffee breath and a pair of smoker's lungs. Cowabunga!

No, that's not me. I probably got to spend less than an hour with the blimp (as well as the rest of my bounty) before it was time to get dressed and go to some relative's house. If nothing else, this short tale is a parable expressing the dumbness of gifting a child a buncha cool shit on Christmas morning and then tearing them away from it all to go break in a pair of new socks at an aunt's house to watch a cousin greedily indulge in their own new prizes without offering any turns. I believe my parents finally came around on the realities of this injustice and started getting these social obligations outta the way on Christmas Goddamn Eve. But in 1988 I left my loot for however long on Christmas Day, and upon returning home I'd found my Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Blimp had been slashed and deflated by our new dog, Teika. 

Teika was a pug who was given to us earlier that year by my sister's boyfriend (and eventual brother-in-law). Of indeterminate age and background, the dog was consistently docile and friendly, but always found inventive ways of letting us know that he didn't like being left alone - this was one of the first such instances where that became apparent. I don't have any specific memories of my initial reaction to what happened to my Turtle Blimp, but it didn't really leave any scars so I assume I took it rather well. I kept all the plastic components and accessories as a consolation (that orange atom bomb labeled "ITCHY POWDER" would resurface in my toy box for years), but really the true consolation turned out to be Teika; that dog was perhaps the crown jewel in my brief little Normal Rockwell upbringing and was my unconditional best friend throughout my toughest times.

I also got Milton Bradley's "Guess Who?" game that morning and I guarantee that brought me more joy and entertainment and memories in the following months/years than some bulky toy airship that would've collected more dust than mileage. But for TMNT collector's bragging rights: I didn't have the Technodrome, I didn't have the Turtle Van, I didn't have the Footcruiser, I didn't have Krang's big naked robot body, but the original '88 Turtle Blimp? Fuck yeah, I had that. 

- Paul