Two things occured to me today as I answered the door in my wheelchair, only to leap up to my feet screaming “IT’S A MIRACLE!!” when it turned out to be the same two Mormons from last week who still haven’t learnt their lesson.
One, I’m not sure if my collection will ever be complete, if my need to acquire more toys will ever be sated. Fortunately, that scary thought was dulled by the horse flowing freely through my veins, and in my H-addled daze I got to thinking about Holy Grails – those items for your collection that you’ve always wanted, that you so desperately need, but are unable to acquire. That thought led to a rumination on Poe’s enticing shindig weighing in on action features, and the modest amount of comments it picked up with you young scamps arguing and waging war on one another like Shang Tsung starting a new tournament to weed out the best fighters from the movie stars, lightning gods and ridiculous robots.
This, of course, led to thinking about how I so dearly love the sound of my own voice, and would love to write my own column in which you, the reader, are forced to read every resounding idiotic thing that passes through my brain. Actually, that’s more than just “two things,” but, whatever. It’s not like you can stop reading now! (Breaking Bad is the greatest TV series ever made and you need to watch it immediately.)
Every collector has them – the ones that got away, so to speak. (Not women–you’ve never touched a woman before.) Those amazing toys that appeared before your eyes for just a second, only to flit away never to be seen again, or to the deepest darkest depths of eBay. Or maybe it was a toy from your childhood, one that mom sold at your Garage Sale for 50 cents only to turn up at auction for $50,000 a decade or two later – or perhaps it was a toy that was released shortly before you began collecting and has never been available again.
Holy Grails are a double edged sword. As any collector or serial killer can tell you, part of the joy is the thrill of the chase: rushing through the doors to Toys ‘R Us, clobbering the families at the entrance and knocking over a pram to get to the action figures, shoving children out of your way as your hands wrap around the shiny new action figure that must be yours, being escorted away by the police for grevious bodily harm. As great as it is to have an awesome display of all your favourite toys that you can rejoice in as the lord, it’s also great being able to locate and acquire the objects of your desire, thrilling to finally find them for your collection. Holy Grails represent the Ultimate in terms of this thrill – the satisfaction of being able to get one of these is second only to leaping to your feet screaming “IT’S A MIRACLE!!” whilst in a wheelchair when the same two Mormons from last week come to your front door having not learnt their lesson.
“So, what’s your Holy Grail, Doc?” Why, I’m glad you asked. I actually managed to acquire the first of my two biggest Holy Grails not too long ago – feast your eyes on this:
That’s right, it’s the original Gigantic Stupid Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers Megazords, the Dinozord and the Thunderzord. You kids can have your dern Voltron – for me, these were the must-own toys that I could never afford as a wee lad. Always just out of my reach, the eBay God finally blessed me last Christmas and delivered them to my arms, ready to fit together to make towering robot monsters that can crush Napoleon Dynamite and his stupid mate Pedro. But, the second Holy Grail, that eludes me to this day is… actually a set of two:
The glorious Gentlemen from the amazing, award-winning Buffy the Vampire Slayer episode Hush have always been just out of my grasp, always a fingertip or an eBay-seller-who-wont-ship-internationally away. Articulated and complete with an awesome clocktower base with little bendy straightjacket minions and a plethora of accessories (human hearts!!!) these great toys from MAC were long gone by the time I might afford them.
Then there’s Poe’s own Holy Grail, which he revealed to me after an involuntary injection of sodium thiopental (with a touch of sulfuric acid to give it a kick): the blue Metal Man Spaceman/Space Ship set by Zylmex, which he had as a wee tyke in nursery school(!). He claims he saw one go for over $100 on eBay years ago, and now he wishes he’d had the stones to pay up.
What about you, the reader? What is or are your Holy Grail(s)?
Previously on Doc Thomas Probes, DrNightmare wrote:
Oh, Thomas, you scamp….oh sorry, I meant DR. Thomas, I know how all us fake doctors get hissy if we aren’t properly fraudulently addressed! 🙂
Doc Thomas responds:
(We’ll have a real 3 3/4″ breakdown soon – stay tuned!!)