Tuesday 13 August 2013

Go to Infinity and on a little further...

I am always a bit nervous if I sit too close to Buzz Lightyear.

He, or rather a large Disney action figure , has been in our family now for about 14 years.

It is not a personality thing, after all I cannot compete with his Space Ranger status and powers, but rather a Health and Safety issue.

For a start, he is extremely bulky and heavy. He stands about 25 cm tall in his best cosmic gear from the green toe capped weight boots up to the highest point of the dome of his helmet. There is a solid density to his midriff which is attributable to the electronics that power the authentic sights, sounds and mechanics that make the figure so enduring and appealing to children.

I do admit to having re-enacted a few scenes from the Pixar animated movie in those few precious moments after kids bedtime and I can confirm that it is good fun.

It was bought, one Christmas as a main present for our youngest after he and his sisters really became sold on the whole Toy Story thing. Disney have merchandising down to a fine art and after saturating the media in the build up to the second of the films the only way to get any peace in the house, ironically, was to buy in the well packaged item.

At one stage we were awash with products and goods endorsed by Toy Story especially the smaller static figures that came with a McDonalds Happy Meal. We never ever achieved a full set of those on offer but certainly amassed a whole army of the green aliens from the Pizza Planet restaurant, numerous Emperor Zurgs and miscellaneous other characters including Mr Potato Head. Other goods ranged from back-packs to drink cups, stickers, colouring-in books, tableware and bed linen.

Our son was only 4 years old when he excitedly ripped open the large wrapped box on Christmas morning. He could barely lift up Buzz Lightyear and we, as parents, were concerned that there could be a hazard if the toy fell over and trapped him out of our view or earshot.

The operating buttons, switches, opening flaps and moveable limbs were enough to keep him engrossed without the need to erect the figure to its full height.

Buzz gave many years of imaginative play for all of our children but inevitably he was soon to be confined to the old toys box up in the attic. He was remarkably preserved after all manner of neglect and abuse in the name of active use and for the first time in my recollection we had kept the original packaging.

I did make a tentative search on E Bay, purely out of curiosity you understand, to see if other parents were cashing in on the obsolete toys of their children. They certainly were. I could sympathise equally if the proceeds were going into a future college fund or on a small menopausal sports car.

Just this week in one of those rash decisions to clear out the loft I came across Buzz Lightyear. He had been tucked away in a box of soft toys, nestled amongst hand knitted scarecrows and angels, wedged in with the pliable and mouldable Beany Babies and in the company of a great many and variable sized teddy bears.

Through some freakish degrading process in the plastics which made up his body Buzz had turned from his bright and vibrant colours into a pale, sickly looking and tarnished thing. This may have been due to a manufacturing fault whereby not enough UV inhibitors had been mixed in the injection moulding process and even though sheltered from direct sunlight there had been a gradual break down in the composition and pigments.

It was both shocking and upsetting to behold and I did turn my head away in a shameful shunning of the great action hero. Out of sympathy I brought him back down into the habitable part of our house and he once again took up pride of place on the playroom window cill.

This familiar sight meant that he soon blended into our lives once more and we took him for granted. That was until one of my late night wanderings when, thinking I had heard a noise outside I came down to the playroom which had a good vantage point over the back garden.

I had forgotten about a particular trait of the action figure and the surreal sight of Buzz and his luminous body parts caused much fear in me. Then I remembered why I was always a bit nervous of getting too close to this heroic character.

I had read about the adverse effects of the radiation given out by luminous paints and substances on male parts in particular. What must have looked very strange to any nightime prowlers was the sight of me, cupped hands around my genitals backing away slowly from a ghostly apparition of a galactic superstar in the comfort of my own home.

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