Wednesday, May 25, 2005

A Real American Hero

I read a haiku today about Ken - Barbie's boyfriend. It suggested that for a guy who had such a limited codpiece that he sure had his pick of the plastic chicks. Maybe he was that most rare of creatures - the Nice Safe Male. I played very much the same role for many years myself, but that's not what we're going to discuss here and now.
Instead I would like to take a few moments to celebrate the real stud of the doll world: GI Joe. When Heidi Wullschleger brought her Barbies over, Joe put in a request for extended leave. Skipper and Midge would toss Ken over in a second for a man in uniform. I am speaking at this point of the standard issue, twelve-inch variety - not the pathetic three and three quarters inch petite enemy of Cobra. Mine were rugged, fully jointed and poseable men of action. They sported life-like hair and a scar on his right cheek, left hand cupped to hold his rifle, right hand poised with his trigger finger extended. Joe was locked, loaded, and looking for a good time. By the end of the afternoon, there was always an elaborate wedding with much pomp, circumstance and small arms fire.
Joe provided me a link with that make believe world of "action figures" (dolls). Aside from the aforementioned adventures with Barbie and her friends, Joe opened a world of scientific possibilities as well. If you tie a string around the neck of a GI Joe and drag him behind the family station wagon down a dirt road, how many miles will it be before one has to shout at the driver to report that Joe has "accidentally" fallen out of the car? How many hours does it take to freeze Joe solid in a coffee can full of water? From what height will Joe's torso shatter when dropped off a cliff? Inquiring minds want to know.
Then there was the horrible mutations visited on my younger brother's astronaut Joe. Probably because he was so young, blonde and fresh shaven - he begged for abuse. We gave him a mohawk with an exacto knife and surgically implanted a dog's nose on his face. He deserved better. Later we painted him black and green and ran another in a series of "stress tests" on his 21 movable parts. Astro-Joe left this world as a pile of melted slag - he wasn't up to the lighter fluid. My guess is Ken would have fainted dead away at the sight of the kitchen matches.


Anonymous said...

insert laughter here.


You See Us As You Want To See Us said...

I figured out the reason why nowa days youth have nothing to say. See with modern technology such as computers... we are constantly consumed. If computers and things like the new PSP were non-existent, we would probably have more great stories like this to tell, though I did light the end of my shorts on fire when my posse and I tried to light a bag on fire with my friends sisters bear in it.In the end the bear came out and the bag made a leap of death at me across the driveway. See now I have depleted my story tellign resources, then again maybe im just not hanging out with the right crowd to have these kind of adventures. Anyway none of that made sense so im going off to wallow in my youth apathy now.

You See Us As You Want To See Us said...

I have mixed emotions about those my little ponies. Then again I hate them. That mixed part was a lie.

Heidi said...

Who is this Heidi Wullschleger of whom you speak? Did you just make up that name or is she a real person? Actually, I am Heidi Wullschleger.
Do I know you?