Every once in a while a movie comes along that sweeps the nation in a perfect storm of pop culture and merchandising. To some this is nothing more than the studios using in-your-face marketing tactics to suck every last dime out of your wallet. For me it’s about finding a way to keep the experience alive long after the movie is over.

Batman had always been my lifelong hero. I was a comic book connoisseur from the day I was born and followed his adventures religiously. The movie landscape was much different in 1989 – superheroes were still a small underground niche and not the Hollywood juggernauts they’ve become today. It took a real effort to seek out your heroes and…

Years ago, in an moment of reality T.V. foresight, TYCO produced an incredible franchise of five tiny identical dolls called “Quints.” Quints looked two months old but had about ten years of hair. Seriously, it was out of control, but incredibly fun to style. Each doll also had it’s own special color that coordinated across the Quints’ “Special-for-5 House.” I’m still not sure why Jon and Kate designed their own mansion when TYCO built the model for a “multiples dream house” 15 years ago.

Playskool’s My Buddy was more than just a baby doll for boys, he was a pal. The kind of pal who always wanted to do whatever you were doing, go wherever you were going. My Buddy was a role model. I wanted to dress like him and have my hair cut to match his. My Buddy wasn’t just the name of the toy, this guy was my buddy. We played in the sandbox, he came with me to sleepovers at my grandma’s house, and waited patiently for me to come home from school. In return for his loyalty, I never cut his hair, lost his shoes, or drew on his face. His constant smile was the only thank you I needed…

My love for cooking did not come from my mom. Hell, we knew damn well to stay out of her kitchen or we’d get smacked with a wooden spoon. No, my culinary passion can be traced back to a late 80s birthday gift from many years ago. The Chef de Parti to my Apprenti was none other than a mad scientist named Dr. Dreadful.

The Dr. Dreadful Food Lab was the male answer to the Easy Bake Oven (predating Creepy Crawlers by several years.) Your kitchen table instantly became your very own laboratory, where you would orchestrate a series of dishes that “looks gross but tastes great!” These varied from bubbling brain stew eaten straight from the shrunken skull bowl, to the homegrown and edible monster skin (I’m still not sure what it was made of.) I became mad with power, a gourmet Dr. Moreau, mixing and matching the various flavored powders and ingredients to create just the right gummy tarantula…

Most eight-year-olds went through airport security without any trouble. I, on the other hand, was always pulled aside due to the suspicious bulging square in my Osh Kosh B’Gosh jean pocket. Security never found any bombs or objects posing a terrorist threat, just a pink plastic compact box with gold encrusted letters that said Polly Pocket…

The Inhumanoids were a cartoon and a toyline and it had scientists who wore battlesuits and they fought monsters underground. The coolest toy from the line was D’Compose. He was the biggest toy I owned. He had rubber guts. In 1988 my mom got pregnant with my sister. This meant my parents didn’t love me anymore…

I stood at halfcourt, my Spider-Man underoos bunched in my palm, my eyes on the basket. First, I spun past an imaginary Sir Charles Barkley. Not an easy task, he fought Godzilla. Then, I crossovered a fictional Larry Johnson, adorned in full Grandmama drag. The only thing standing between me and my glory was a diminutive make-believe Spud Webb. A quick pump fake and I was in the air…

Parental supervision? Check.
Large flexible sheet of plastic featuring your favorite cartoon? Check.
Colored pencils? Check.
325° Oven? Check.

In 1990 M.U.S.C.L.E. toys had worn out their welcome and POGS were still a few years away. Young boys everywhere demanded something to collect and Monster in My Pocket heeded the call. Besides being the most inappropriately named toy line of all time (which I learned the hard way on the playground from my female classmates when I threatened to show them said toy) the Monsters in My Pocket franchise also extended to other mediums. Comic books, trading cards, an audio cassette tape, and even a surprisingly entertaining NES videogame were all spawned from the series. I, of course, had to have them all….

In the early 1980s it seemed as if G.I. Joe could not get any larger. They had Tanks, Space Shuttles, even William “The Refrigerator” Perry (yes, dancing in the “Super Bowl Shuffle” was considered enough of a credential to join the world’s most elite peace keeping task force). Then, in 1985, to the delight of children everywhere and the dismay of Toys R Us employees’ herniated discs, the U.S.S. Flagg was unleashed upon the world. Coming in at 7′6″ and costing over a hundred dollars the play set included a control tower, launch deck, vehicles, a sound system, and even the exclusive Admiral Keel-Haul, who resembled Shipwreck’s long lost mustachioed lover from his previous naval academy days. It was the end-all, be-all holiday gift of that year, and I had to have one no matter what the cost…