GB24 boomerang
There are few toys in my collection that represent what Alen coined the “Karmic Boomerang” for me as this one. The only other that comes close is the result of the extreme generosity of a certain Uncle Warren, but thats for another blog.
Pan back a decade. The frenzy of competition for the right piece was fierce to put it mildly. The early days of ebay bidding wars was in full effect and even though we complain about prices now, we sometime selectively forget that even common toys by todays standards were perceived as much more “R@RE” than they are today, and bore prices that reflected it.
Tiring of the stress of what should be a fun hobby, I found a website, that mirrored my growing feelings about what the toys and the memories should be about.
How was it through my rush to collect , I sort of forgot a little bit about the funk, and why it was I was searching for these totems.
Perhaps this is the ever present sentiment that goes through its cyclical life span every few years and has become the mantra of the oldskoolers who watch wistfully as a new wave of people rediscover and reacquaint themselves with their childhood friends.
Why do we do it?
I found a kindred spirit when I first contact Alen about selling him my GB24. It was a toy he had expressed an interest in locating, and I felt perhaps it would find a better home with him. I was after all in the beginning stages of my c10 illness, and the toy although mint as one could be, the box had begun to beckon an upgrade. The voices since then have gotten louder, and my threshold for ignoring it, has lessened.
I contacted him and offered the toy at a third less than what I paid, simply because it felt like the right thing to do. The importance of the green, had to take a back seat to the importance of the T28 blue so to speak.
We met for the first time in Porter square mall in Cambridge, which was not far from where he lived at the time. My memory of the specifics fails me, but we met at the benches near the atm, and exchanged our greetings. Sushi followed. I felt comfortable almost immediately, and realized this beautiful toy was going to the best home possible.
From there, the friendship began, and endured. The combined faith in the goodness of our fellow collectors being the cornerstone to what is so utterly fantastic about this niche of nerdiness.
It took me much longer to find the right replacement. Like a number of other pieces in the collection that I sold off in hopes of finding a upgrade, it took years. The better part of nine plus in fact.
I thought it would never happen.
But when I did find it, as luck would have it, it was when money was tight and any hope of scoring it was not likely. Lamenting the loss, I casually mentioned it to my old friend, who without hesitating , graciously spotted me for the purchase.
I was floored and grateful and amazed. Well maybe not amazed as I knew Alen’s character enough to know, he understood it was never about the money. It was about the pursuit and love of the toy , and what they represented. It was about the friendship above all else. About the kids who never met, but the adults who did, and cultivated a place that would serve as a home to others like us. A land of misfit toy collectors.
So it came full circle. A generosity of a decade past came back. The boomerang is alive and well, and for that I am glad. Probably more than I could rightly express.
So what to learn from this? I figure I have rambelled on enough as it is, but here it is in its most distilled form.
Life is short, so love thy chogokin neighbor bitches.
Karmic toy boomerang is go.
Out.
