I was a spoiled child. Name a playset, I had it.
Terrordrome? Check. Grayskull? Check. Flagg? Check. Fortress of Steele? Check. Hyve? Check. Name it. Go ahead. I had it. Needless to say, I had a BILLION toys. Add to the fact that I never outgrew toys, and kept collecting for 20+ years, I had a lot of toys put together. When my wife and I moved from our home in Tulsa to KC to go to seminary, half the trailer was my toy collection. A 24 foot trailer. Yes, I am telling the truth.
Times have changed. I’ve reduced down a great deal, sold many many items and made some green. However, for YEARS, I had stuff at multiple houses. My mom and I lived in a tiny condo, where the rest of my family lived in larger surroundings. At my mom’s, in the garage were toys. In the storage shed, toys. Closet, toys. At Grandmas, the Terrordrome, boxes of toys and vehicles, etc. Moved to college, boxes all over creation. Well, years pass, various relatives died. Slowly, surely, I got everything together in one house as I sold massive amounts off: eventually it all fit in one home. Shortly before my thirtieth birthday, I assembled absolutely everything I owned for the first time in one place.
And I promptly packed up and moved it all to Tulsa. I rented the largest storage locker in the climate controlled facility (a couple hundred a month). I then crammed everything inside, including all furniture, chairs, multiple couches, and boxes. It was a little hairy, but it all fit. Unfortunately, it was done quickly because my help was exhausted and annoyed by that point in the day, and wanted just to be done. Therefore the planning was for crap, and stuff was buried under furniture, piles of boxes were hidden, etc.
Thus leads me to Wednesday. I leave, armed only with a boombox to plug into the hallway bathroom next to the storage unit and some old Tom Petty CDs. I fight my way in at noon, and emerge at 6:30 pm, exhausted utterly, but with all furniture at the back and boxes of things up front. This was all a terrible mistake.
Now there is a freaking WALL OF BOXES meeting you when you open the door. No joke, I had to take stuff home because there wasn’t room for it. Now I tool around town in my new Suzuki with a Dyson in the back. I don’t know if I look like a clean freak, a snob, or what, but I have an expensive British vacuum in my Japanese car. I have no idea what that says about me as a person, but whatever it is, it can’t be good.
On to the debris. So, now as a weekly tradition o’ fun, I go and paw through old boxes of crap to A. Sell to finance my bills and B. reduce the load on the unit so when I move I can get a smaller van. I also now loathe massive amounts of things which are useless, but I’ve written on that before.
OK, by now I’ve bored even myself, but here’s the exciting part: the finds I make here you can buy, at least for the next 24 hours. Here’s the auction link:
So now, if you read something fun, you can buy it direct from old TerrorClaws.
1. Cap’n Crunch:
A giant sized, stuffed Cap’n Crunch. I remember buying this via mail order from the Quaker Oats company when it was worth a damn for prizes. My real want had come years earlier: a cardboard Guppy playset complete with action figures of the crew. I missed it, so this seemed a good replacement. I had a seriously huge love for Capn Crunch as a kid, mostly because of the amazing prizes furnished me by the company that made it. No one matched Crunch for awesome prizes on a consistent basis, and I rewarded them with Mom’s hard earned dollars. To this day I can eat it in the morning and legitimately like it, but due to my mercenary nature, I don’t buy a box unless the prize is awesome. Therefore, I purchase my annual 2 boxes of Christmas Crunch and call it a year.
2. Old G.I. Joe magazines:
Boy these were awesome back in the day. I got a bundle of these from a buddy a year or two ago. These were the rare issues that still had their posters inside. I kept the one or two I wanted, and here’s the rest. Loaded with 80’s Hasbro house ads, they’re a fun trip back in time, but not one I need anymore.
Wow, a mint and complete stereotype action figure. Like darn near anyone born in Oklahoma, I am part Indian (Choctaw, thanks). I never owned Spirit as a kid, but for some odd reason bought him in the great Joe buy up of 1995-2001. In the midst of the drought at retail, I snagged the old stuff at a resale shop near Toys R Us. But now what will I do with him? Have Freedom mounted to his hand while he cries a tiny tear at my storage bill? No. Out he goes into the cold uncaring night of eBay.
Well, this has been a hella long post, so I’m gonna cut it a break for now. More descriptions forthcoming of crazy crap I found, but I warn you the opportunity to purchase it will probably be gone.
More to come!