Knowing is half the battle
2014 was an amazing year for me professionally, ended on a high note personally and, upon reflection, was unparalleled hobby-wise. Shifting my collector's mentality away from the disappointing state of comics books, and toward completing sets already in my possession, yielded reward after reward.
Last year I completed my Transformers collection (characters and accessories) once and for all (I mean it this time: there's no room left on the shelves). I caught up on Green Lantern Kyle Rayner and Darkhawk merchandise, picking up Heroclix and trading cards I'd skipped previously due to tight finances. I finished a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles display in spite of difficulties (including my first-ever eBay scammer) and rebuilt both my Super Powers Collection and Star Wars: Micro Collection sets (alas, poor Kenner - you are missed). Taking advantage of both comic shop sales and digital downloads, I wiped out the list of trade paperbacks/collected editions that's sat on my computer desktop for several years. My shelves and hard drive have been filled with the good stuff.
But my greatest geeky accomplishment, in 2014, was securing the rare cards needed to complete my 1994 Fleer Ultra Amazing Spider-Man trading card set. It's long held a special place in my heart - I vividly remember pestering the comic shop owner into building me a complete run of the standard cards, then chasing specials where and how I could. The cards I found have lived in one of those hard plastic boxes ever since, not to be displayed until complete. Time and circumstance took my collecting in other directions but, last year, the time was right to finish it off. Placing each and every one of those cards, 20 years after their release, into plastic display sleeves honestly ranks among the most satisfying collecting experiences of my life.
It was a banner year thanks, in no small part, to nostalgia. I hate to admit it, but I've become one of those fans who likes the old stuff better than the new stuff. Fortunately I go out and purchase with passion instead of bitching online (learned the folly of that pastime years ago) so I'm not a completely hopeless case. That said, success comes with a price - namely, what do I collect next? I've learned from past experience that having nothing to hunt makes my brain itch (everyone needs the release of a hobby) so I needed to find something. And not just a throwaway "oh, that'll do" target: something I actually want, that'll look cool in the comic room, that'll breed the same excitement and sense of accomplishment as 2014's triumphs. But what?
I found the answer in Canada, inside the single most incredible toy store ever. It's called Toy Traders, it's owned by my brother-in-law's neighbour and it simply can't be beaten.
GI Joe has been very much on my mind these past few years. Every time we go to Toys 'R Us I look longingly at the el-cheapo military vehicles... C-130s and tanks and fighter jets... and wish I had the skills to paint and customise them into Joe and Cobra artillery. I've bought figures from the newer Joe ranges and anniversary-style remakes of the classic cast only to sell them off afterwards, disappointed. Yet I adore my replica Snake-Eyes sword, own modern versions of both him and Storm Shadow, purchased the entire 80s comics run in trade and re-watch the movies with LJ and stareyednight (who are big fans). Hell, I almost dropped $400 last year on Transformers-themed repaints of Joe and Cobra vehicles! My relationship with the franchise is... odd.
All that said, you can't deny the range makes for a hell of a spectacle. Toy Traders' diorama defies hyperbole (and adequate description). It is (as thebagbunny noted) the ultimate "train set" take on the Joe/Cobra conflict, and I likely lost an hour just taking in all the detail. The number of references to, and in-jokes about, both the cartoon and comic storylines is staggering - which is precisely the sort of thing I appreciate and try to do with my own displays. If only I had this sort of room!
But GI Joe is just one piece of the Toy Traders puzzle and, as you continue around the room, you encounter...
... the same level of care (and insane detail) lavished upon the good Star Wars movies and...
... more Masters of the Universe love than that dead horse of a franchise gets most anywhere. I honestly believe that's the coolest He-Man and his colleagues have looked since I was a kidlet (it's the one range I fell out of love with). If the long-mooted, much-delayed film version looks even half as vivid as that display, it's got an outside chance of invigorating Eternia.
I don't even have words to express my admiration for the Marvel display. Mixing 6" figures with statues and resin models in order to give proper scale, and having it work, is a mind-blowing accomplishment. And that Galactus? Oh hell yes - the ultimate action figure accessory. I can't imagine how long this took to set up and perfect, but every second was time well spent.
Where were the Transformers, you ask? According to the owner, the original G1 toys are "too brick-ish" for good displays (silence, librarian_bot) so he took a different approach. In the dead centre of the store, high above the shelves, on either side of a custom-built Cobra Terror-Drome scaled to work with Hot Toys' Joes and Cobras, stood...
And though I'm certain I could make the original 'bots and 'cons dance just as prettily as the Joes, Cobras, Rebellion, Empire and company, I wasn't about to quibble with how my favourite franchise was represented. If you're only going to plug two Transformers into your dioramas, folks, it has to be Optimus Prime and Megatron. Wow.
So: what did I buy?
Oh, the things I could have bought! Every price tag was well below the usual secondary market price-gouging (MISB Fortress Maximus: $1999 instead of $2999!) making it a shopper's dream. With quite literal tears in my eyes, while fighting the urge to drool (I've never before seen such a gob-smacking selection of vintage toys), I grabbed any and everything that caught my fancy. Then, once I'd had a chance to look the items over properly (and calm back down), I cut my selection to the essentials: the original Snake-Eyes, Scarlett, Destro and Baroness figures, along with Super Powers Collection Doctor Fate.
Why did those survive the cull? Easy. Snake-Eyes is a figure I owned and adored as a kid, but sold off (with others) to help pay for my first wedding. The other four are all toys I wanted to own as a child but, for whatever reason, never managed to lay my hands on (how vividly I remember the TV commercial for Doctor Fate... and the longing it bred in my soul). That was as deep as the thinking went: "I like these, I've always wanted these, I'm on holiday - fuck it, let's go!". Well, that and the fact every single toy was complete, near-mint and miles cheaper than they'd be online (Fate actually came with his comic and original blister card!). The whole experience couldn't have been more perfect.
Let's now return to today. Though LJ's spending the week with me she's off with her mum at the moment (pre sleep-over supplies run), giving me my first opportunity to really play with my purchases and set them up in the comic room. That necessitated some shelf-shuffling (which I love doing!) and reorganising - all of which I'm now finished, and of which I'm very proud. Super Powers and GI Joe are sharing a shelf and all concerned look magnificent. Finessing the Joes took a while (30 years take their toll on joints and clutch power) but was so enjoyable that I didn't mind (unlike the TMNT crew falling over, which I minded very bloody much).
And while I finessed, I thought... and had something of a collecting epiphany. Stay with me, here, because this'll take a bit of explaining.
My favourite version of the TMNT is the original Mirage comics. I could have bought Eastman and Laird-accurate figures of the boys (both NECA and Playmates produce them) but opted instead for the earliest release toys that are gnarly, funky-looking and a weird miss-mash of the comics and cartoon. When I look at them on my shelves, though, I recall the first 11 issues of the comic and smile. They look right.
I've no great love for the Silver Age of comics, nor the Super Friends cartoon. I much prefer the 1990s and Justice League Unlimited but, when I look at my Super Powers Collection, I see the DC Universe and flash back on my favourite stories and moments from that continuity. The toys look right.
A Transformers devotee such as myself should own the Masterpiece and "Classics" figures. They are, after all, the original characters re-created, show-accurate beauties resplendent with detailed sculpting and unimaginable articulation. No matter how often I look at them, or a friend brings one around for me to check out, I feel no love. Instead I gaze upon my shelves of brightly-coloured 1980s plastic bricks and am instantly transported to a thousand battles and character moments that echo in my heart. They look right.
This is perfect. But this is Optimus Prime. Just like this is perfect, but this is Snake-Eyes.
Counter-intuitive? Absolutely. Senseless? Perhaps. Ignorant? Definitely. Yet it's all borne of memory and nostalgia. I was never a kid who wished his Optimus Prime looked more like the animation model, or who complained about the facial likeness of his Luke Skywalker toy. To me, the toys were and still are the best possible representation of the characters I watched and read about. My imagination connected the dots, filled in the blanks, jumped the gaps and made do - happily. My Super Powers Batman had only five points of articulation but let me tell you, son: he threw a spin-kick and a roundhouse punch with as much fluid ease as the best Revoltech figure.
Those who did complain about/note those things? I think it's awesome there's now toys that will fulfill those dreams for you. Toys are supposed to make us smile; if they don't, they're pretty much worthless. When librarian_bot and thebagbunny talk about their Star Wars: Black figures, I listen with rapt attention because those toys make them happy. Just like the old crap makes me.
And that's why GI Joe has been such an odd duck. Picking up the newer figures, dipping my toes into the commemorative and anniversary lines, isn't what I'm really after. The desire to buy cheap, old-school molding vehicles was a hint, as was my interest in the Transformers crossover exclusives. Just as with every other toy line, I'm all about retro. I don't want a super-modern ultra-poseable Scarlett; I want the toy of the soldier who was cool under fire yet sensitive about the loss of a friend. I can't find her amongst the new toys - she was released in 1982 and, dammit, she's now on my shelf. Now I have that sorted - now that I know how my collector's brain works - the path forward is clear.
My primary collecting goal for 2015? GI Joe. My rules? Simple and strict. I may only replace figures I once owned or purchase characters I always wanted - and, in the latter category, said purchase must be the first-release version of said figure. stareyednight calls it the "rookie card rule" and I like the term. As of today I have 10 figures in my sights, ranging in price from $20 to $100 depending on condition and accessories. I'm really, really looking forward to the challenge and can't wait to get started.
Which is, of course, the point of a hobby.
Greet the Fire as Your Friend,
SF
Last year I completed my Transformers collection (characters and accessories) once and for all (I mean it this time: there's no room left on the shelves). I caught up on Green Lantern Kyle Rayner and Darkhawk merchandise, picking up Heroclix and trading cards I'd skipped previously due to tight finances. I finished a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles display in spite of difficulties (including my first-ever eBay scammer) and rebuilt both my Super Powers Collection and Star Wars: Micro Collection sets (alas, poor Kenner - you are missed). Taking advantage of both comic shop sales and digital downloads, I wiped out the list of trade paperbacks/collected editions that's sat on my computer desktop for several years. My shelves and hard drive have been filled with the good stuff.
But my greatest geeky accomplishment, in 2014, was securing the rare cards needed to complete my 1994 Fleer Ultra Amazing Spider-Man trading card set. It's long held a special place in my heart - I vividly remember pestering the comic shop owner into building me a complete run of the standard cards, then chasing specials where and how I could. The cards I found have lived in one of those hard plastic boxes ever since, not to be displayed until complete. Time and circumstance took my collecting in other directions but, last year, the time was right to finish it off. Placing each and every one of those cards, 20 years after their release, into plastic display sleeves honestly ranks among the most satisfying collecting experiences of my life.
It was a banner year thanks, in no small part, to nostalgia. I hate to admit it, but I've become one of those fans who likes the old stuff better than the new stuff. Fortunately I go out and purchase with passion instead of bitching online (learned the folly of that pastime years ago) so I'm not a completely hopeless case. That said, success comes with a price - namely, what do I collect next? I've learned from past experience that having nothing to hunt makes my brain itch (everyone needs the release of a hobby) so I needed to find something. And not just a throwaway "oh, that'll do" target: something I actually want, that'll look cool in the comic room, that'll breed the same excitement and sense of accomplishment as 2014's triumphs. But what?
I found the answer in Canada, inside the single most incredible toy store ever. It's called Toy Traders, it's owned by my brother-in-law's neighbour and it simply can't be beaten.
GI Joe has been very much on my mind these past few years. Every time we go to Toys 'R Us I look longingly at the el-cheapo military vehicles... C-130s and tanks and fighter jets... and wish I had the skills to paint and customise them into Joe and Cobra artillery. I've bought figures from the newer Joe ranges and anniversary-style remakes of the classic cast only to sell them off afterwards, disappointed. Yet I adore my replica Snake-Eyes sword, own modern versions of both him and Storm Shadow, purchased the entire 80s comics run in trade and re-watch the movies with LJ and stareyednight (who are big fans). Hell, I almost dropped $400 last year on Transformers-themed repaints of Joe and Cobra vehicles! My relationship with the franchise is... odd.
All that said, you can't deny the range makes for a hell of a spectacle. Toy Traders' diorama defies hyperbole (and adequate description). It is (as thebagbunny noted) the ultimate "train set" take on the Joe/Cobra conflict, and I likely lost an hour just taking in all the detail. The number of references to, and in-jokes about, both the cartoon and comic storylines is staggering - which is precisely the sort of thing I appreciate and try to do with my own displays. If only I had this sort of room!
But GI Joe is just one piece of the Toy Traders puzzle and, as you continue around the room, you encounter...
... the same level of care (and insane detail) lavished upon the good Star Wars movies and...
... more Masters of the Universe love than that dead horse of a franchise gets most anywhere. I honestly believe that's the coolest He-Man and his colleagues have looked since I was a kidlet (it's the one range I fell out of love with). If the long-mooted, much-delayed film version looks even half as vivid as that display, it's got an outside chance of invigorating Eternia.
I don't even have words to express my admiration for the Marvel display. Mixing 6" figures with statues and resin models in order to give proper scale, and having it work, is a mind-blowing accomplishment. And that Galactus? Oh hell yes - the ultimate action figure accessory. I can't imagine how long this took to set up and perfect, but every second was time well spent.
Where were the Transformers, you ask? According to the owner, the original G1 toys are "too brick-ish" for good displays (silence, librarian_bot) so he took a different approach. In the dead centre of the store, high above the shelves, on either side of a custom-built Cobra Terror-Drome scaled to work with Hot Toys' Joes and Cobras, stood...
And though I'm certain I could make the original 'bots and 'cons dance just as prettily as the Joes, Cobras, Rebellion, Empire and company, I wasn't about to quibble with how my favourite franchise was represented. If you're only going to plug two Transformers into your dioramas, folks, it has to be Optimus Prime and Megatron. Wow.
So: what did I buy?
Oh, the things I could have bought! Every price tag was well below the usual secondary market price-gouging (MISB Fortress Maximus: $1999 instead of $2999!) making it a shopper's dream. With quite literal tears in my eyes, while fighting the urge to drool (I've never before seen such a gob-smacking selection of vintage toys), I grabbed any and everything that caught my fancy. Then, once I'd had a chance to look the items over properly (and calm back down), I cut my selection to the essentials: the original Snake-Eyes, Scarlett, Destro and Baroness figures, along with Super Powers Collection Doctor Fate.
Why did those survive the cull? Easy. Snake-Eyes is a figure I owned and adored as a kid, but sold off (with others) to help pay for my first wedding. The other four are all toys I wanted to own as a child but, for whatever reason, never managed to lay my hands on (how vividly I remember the TV commercial for Doctor Fate... and the longing it bred in my soul). That was as deep as the thinking went: "I like these, I've always wanted these, I'm on holiday - fuck it, let's go!". Well, that and the fact every single toy was complete, near-mint and miles cheaper than they'd be online (Fate actually came with his comic and original blister card!). The whole experience couldn't have been more perfect.
Let's now return to today. Though LJ's spending the week with me she's off with her mum at the moment (pre sleep-over supplies run), giving me my first opportunity to really play with my purchases and set them up in the comic room. That necessitated some shelf-shuffling (which I love doing!) and reorganising - all of which I'm now finished, and of which I'm very proud. Super Powers and GI Joe are sharing a shelf and all concerned look magnificent. Finessing the Joes took a while (30 years take their toll on joints and clutch power) but was so enjoyable that I didn't mind (unlike the TMNT crew falling over, which I minded very bloody much).
And while I finessed, I thought... and had something of a collecting epiphany. Stay with me, here, because this'll take a bit of explaining.
My favourite version of the TMNT is the original Mirage comics. I could have bought Eastman and Laird-accurate figures of the boys (both NECA and Playmates produce them) but opted instead for the earliest release toys that are gnarly, funky-looking and a weird miss-mash of the comics and cartoon. When I look at them on my shelves, though, I recall the first 11 issues of the comic and smile. They look right.
I've no great love for the Silver Age of comics, nor the Super Friends cartoon. I much prefer the 1990s and Justice League Unlimited but, when I look at my Super Powers Collection, I see the DC Universe and flash back on my favourite stories and moments from that continuity. The toys look right.
A Transformers devotee such as myself should own the Masterpiece and "Classics" figures. They are, after all, the original characters re-created, show-accurate beauties resplendent with detailed sculpting and unimaginable articulation. No matter how often I look at them, or a friend brings one around for me to check out, I feel no love. Instead I gaze upon my shelves of brightly-coloured 1980s plastic bricks and am instantly transported to a thousand battles and character moments that echo in my heart. They look right.
This is perfect. But this is Optimus Prime. Just like this is perfect, but this is Snake-Eyes.
Counter-intuitive? Absolutely. Senseless? Perhaps. Ignorant? Definitely. Yet it's all borne of memory and nostalgia. I was never a kid who wished his Optimus Prime looked more like the animation model, or who complained about the facial likeness of his Luke Skywalker toy. To me, the toys were and still are the best possible representation of the characters I watched and read about. My imagination connected the dots, filled in the blanks, jumped the gaps and made do - happily. My Super Powers Batman had only five points of articulation but let me tell you, son: he threw a spin-kick and a roundhouse punch with as much fluid ease as the best Revoltech figure.
Those who did complain about/note those things? I think it's awesome there's now toys that will fulfill those dreams for you. Toys are supposed to make us smile; if they don't, they're pretty much worthless. When librarian_bot and thebagbunny talk about their Star Wars: Black figures, I listen with rapt attention because those toys make them happy. Just like the old crap makes me.
And that's why GI Joe has been such an odd duck. Picking up the newer figures, dipping my toes into the commemorative and anniversary lines, isn't what I'm really after. The desire to buy cheap, old-school molding vehicles was a hint, as was my interest in the Transformers crossover exclusives. Just as with every other toy line, I'm all about retro. I don't want a super-modern ultra-poseable Scarlett; I want the toy of the soldier who was cool under fire yet sensitive about the loss of a friend. I can't find her amongst the new toys - she was released in 1982 and, dammit, she's now on my shelf. Now I have that sorted - now that I know how my collector's brain works - the path forward is clear.
My primary collecting goal for 2015? GI Joe. My rules? Simple and strict. I may only replace figures I once owned or purchase characters I always wanted - and, in the latter category, said purchase must be the first-release version of said figure. stareyednight calls it the "rookie card rule" and I like the term. As of today I have 10 figures in my sights, ranging in price from $20 to $100 depending on condition and accessories. I'm really, really looking forward to the challenge and can't wait to get started.
Which is, of course, the point of a hobby.
Greet the Fire as Your Friend,
SF