So today I got in the mail the last yahoo japan package I’ll ever get at my current residence before I move out next month. Luckily the contents of said box were awesome enough to live up to such a milestone. Props go to JoshF for posting pics of his own cel and giving me the inspiration to go after this thing…
Since Mason is on a little Diaclone trip, I figured I would bait him with my all-time favourite Diaclone toy: Waruderos.
Waruderos is one of the enemy mechs from Diaclone, and has a great vintage robot look to him. The head and indeed the entire robot is very reminiscent of old diecast wind-up toy robots, with the big globular eyes, horns, blocky proportions, claws (sadly missing on mine), and uni-leg:
The Grip Jumbo G5.
The sentence itself makes me smile.
Alen is right. This toy is perfection. From the classically painted artwork to the understated details and lack of any superfluous decoration… It has been written about far better and more thoroughly than I am able, so I will simply say, there are few times Popy got it wrong. This is one of those times for me.
If you are going to buy a Gatcha Phoenix, this is the only one you need consider. When given the choice buy the Bently, not the Chystler 300 .
CLICK HERE FOR A HIGH RES SHOT OF THAT AWESOME DANGARD JUMBO!!
Stolen from this crappy site that just LOVES to steal our shit without giving credit.. Just returning the favor. Vaffanculo!
I love Tekkaman: The Space Knight (宇宙ã®é¨Žå£«ãƒ†ãƒƒã‚«ãƒžãƒ³ UchÅ« no Kishi Tekkaman). 1975 was a good year, for humans as well as for toys. I’ve aged a bit I guess.. Roughly 10lbs a year, thanks to Budweiser and a rigorous 12 hr a day schedule of surfing Yahoo Japan auctions. This lil’ guy on the other hand hasn’t aged a day. Just look at him:
Tricycles are typically not a part of my day to day toy diet, but this one for some reason tickled my fancy. I loved it. I needed it.. Little did I know this particular trike would turn out to be a bit of a mystery..
The following debauchery ensued:
Friday night 8pm. On the road feverishly texting back and forth with Brian Flynn about just who the hell made this little bastard. I’ve just got to know. Sideswiping cars while throwing beer cans out the window, my wife SCREAMS “Don’t text and drive!!”. Yeah, yeah..
“No markings, nothing on the box, nada.. It’s definitely NOT the Nakajima version, which has a solid colored plastic trike. This one sports a clear trike, gears exposed and all.” I tap out over the course of two city blocks.
“Listen, Sjoen, I’m breast feeding my kid right now.. I told you I can’t be your plus one tonight. Call Hiro.” BF texts.
“WTF!! I’m asking about the trike not the show.. Forget it.. Later.”
You would think the MASTER collector of the bastards of Japanese toys would know. I mean c’mon, let’s face it, tricycle toys are the red headed step children of not only vinyl but tin collecting as well, and Brian knows more about them than anyone else on God’s green.
“Sorry man, I was a little busy BREAST FEEDING my kid!! Seriously!? Anyway, let’s go with Aoshin. I’ll check tonight and get back to you when I have time. Fucking freak… Please don’t ever text message or call me again. EVER!!..” he types with clear hesitation in his taps. Right? Right.
We both scratch our heads (cyber like) and loosely decide on Aoshin. But, it just doesn’t feel right to me somehow..
Back at the pad later that evening the late night emails are sent to my man on the inside, prof. Robert Duban.
Come Saturday morning 6am, the Moscow to Washington “red telephone” rings. Wait, I mean LA to San Francisco “pink telephone” beeps of the hook.. It’s Prof. RD. He reports that he feverishly spent the last 6 hours scouring the un-datafiles and the internets for proof of this elusive Tekkaman’s lineage. When suddenly the line goes silent.. “Clickity clack click clack..” Moments pass and I finally hear him mutter “check messages stat comrade!”. And voila!
Mystery solved.. Or is it?
Believe it or not, later that morning there were several attempts made on my life and currently the tricycle in question is no longer in my possession. Upon arriving home that fateful morning I discovered that the vault I had entrusted the safety of this rarity to had been professionally compromised and the tricycle liberated.
The mystery continues..
According to the Center for Disease Control, the first sign of zinc poisoning is usually intestinal distress, followed by a metallic taste in the mouth. I couldn’t agree more. These zinc-alloy Gundam figurines — I hesitate to call them toys — are appalling playthings even by my disturbingly low standards. Yet I felt compelled to force my sister to win them off of ebay for me nonetheless. (Yes, I have sunk this low: I cancelled my ebay account, only to beg bids off of family members. Just shoot me now.)
Released by Clover, the little toy company that tried but never quite “got it” when it came to things Gundam, these all-metal figures represent a pinnacle of sorts, though I can’t tell if it’s a high or a low one. Hell, they even ran out of paint halfway through the run!
I desperately want to say something witty here to salvage some pride and wrap this up, but I’ve got to run and gargle to get this metallic taste out of my mouth.
My first, and still my favorite Popy Zenmai. If you have been thinking of getting your feet wet in the hellish world that is tin walkers, here is a good place to start. You won’t be disappointed.
I purchased my first Popy tin from Mike Z. He always knew before I did what drug I would pick next. But like any good dealer, they don’t let you know you are hooked until you arrive at the conclusion first.
Getta G was what I grew up with, but something about Getta 1 seduced my Western centric mind. Maybe the realization that my favorite Go Nagai creation, was not in fact the original incarnation. Like a child realizing later in life, they were not the first person to have awareness, I was stunned and excited by the simplicity and comparatively frugal horned ancestor to my childhood hero…the idea he was the first born and still relatively alien to me. Maybe even the idea that G1 and I were the same age… both constructed and introduced in 1974, appealed to my budding narcissistic tendencies. Mazinga was too old, Getta G too young. This porridge was just right
So began my subsequent pursuit of the perfect totem representation of this icon.
It started and ended with this toy. In my opinion, A sublime construct of color , balance and composition. A walking bit of Pop(y) art distilled and hidden for decades until Mike takes him out of the glass case and stuck a new thorn in my heart.
Wait for it.
Here it comes…
Obsessive desire to collect them all.
(Cue a decade long case of financial ruin and late night post auction stress disorder)
*twitch twitch*
