A Youth Devoid of Action Figures

Let’s be clear. I had a good childhood and have nothing of substance to complain about. I want that front and center so this is in its proper context.

Growing up, I really didn’t have action figures. It’s okay. For the most part I didn’t care about them anyway. One Christmas I did receive a replica of the bridge of the Enterprise from Star Trek that included action figures of Kirk, Spock and - I think - Scotty. The bridge and Montgomery Scott disappeared in a garage sale at some point as part of a sly Klingon ruse I am convinced. But, to this day Spock and Kirk are in my house, maintaining their youthful countenance quite admirably.

Okay, so maybe their uniforms are not aging well….

That, however, is a side trek - if you will - to the main point of this story. Prior to the Enterprise gang, I didn’t have any action figures. Or dolls. That’s what they are. Just boys can’t say that for some reason. Or maybe we should call dolls action figures. I don’t care which way this one turns out, but let’s be consistent.

My parents weren’t depriving me. I had never shown any interest in G.I. Joe, despite the persuasive appeal of his Kung-Fu grip. I wasn’t into Transformers, Go-Bots, or any other mechanical based hero teams. By the time they had their heyday, I was a little old for such things, though I do remember being slightly jealous of a friend who had a giant Optimus Prime (I think) that fired actual plastic missiles.

The only action figure I would have wanted would have been of Steve Austin - The Six Million Dollar Man, not the wrestler. The Six Million Dollar Man was a 1970’s show about an astronaut who had a horrible crash and was turned into a cyborg. This made him an intelligence asset because he could run real fast, lift heavy things, and chuck trees at Bigfoot. The title came from the cost of all the robotics and surgery he underwent. Today, that same price gets you a total knee replacement. The Steve Austin action figure was cool for a lot of reasons. First, there was a hole in the back of his head so you could look through his “bionic eye”. My recollection is that it was significantly less effective than just looking at something normally. Secondly, he had a button you could push and make his arm lift stuff. Take that, Kung-Fu grip! But best of all, the flesh on his arm would roll back so you could see the robotic machinations lurking below the skin. Granted, this was just a plastic arm inked with gears and cables and such, but still…you got to pull up his arm flesh.

I never got a Six Million Dollar Man. I probably didn’t even ask for it. Regrets, I’ve had a few.

Years before the Enterprise docked at my home, I did receive one action figure. I remember I was sick with what was probably a horrible case of strep throat. I got those a lot as a kid. I vividly remember my mom bringing me an action figure of a beautiful black horse. Well, it may not have been an action figure, as nothing on it moved. I don’t know what you call that. Maybe it’s just a plastic statuette. Ah, but the horse was not alone. The horse was accompanied by an action figure of a soldier clad in an unnaturally bright blue uniform. It was not cloth, but was part of the soldier himself. He had a holster with a pistol in it that you could actually take out and have him brandish with authority. He even had a sword! To top it off (literally) he wore a black cowboy hat atop a mane of flowing (well, frozen in plastic) yellow hair that framed his face. The centerpiece of that face was a magnificent 70’s style mustache that was the same bright yellow as his hair, and which also matched the yellow handkerchief he wore around his neck.

This, dear reader, was an action figure of General George Armstrong Custer.

Yes, that General Custer.

Why did such a thing exist? I do not know.

Was there popular demand for such a thing? Apparently so.

Why did anyone give it to me? To this day, that remains a mystery. I suspect that the store was down to that or a Fisher-Price Little People playset of a podiatrist’s office. Besides, it really is the thought that counts, and it was gifted to me to make me feel better. Which, looking back at the fact that I remember this so well from maybe 50 years ago (!) tells you something.

I don’t recall playing much with General Custer - and certainly did not recreate any of his military campaigns. I think that was mainly because my uncle in short order told me why maybe the general was not necessarily worthy of such an honor as had been bestowed upon him by being molded into a toy for the youth.

I don’t know where General Custer and his horse are these days. Maybe the Romulans got them; maybe they rode off into the sunset. But I do know this. General Custer sure didn’t have Kung-Fu grip, and you sure couldn’t roll back the skin on his arm.

That sword was pretty cool though.