Oh, reader– how obscure will we get to bring you all things, “Beetlerific”?
And here is an ancient commercial from 25 years ago (– when thunder-lizards walked the earth) that even I remember– staring at this mysterious toy where Beelejuice quick-disappeared through some kind of coffin-lid trick I haven’t been able to figure-out.
Why “Beetlejuice”? I guess the cartoon was running Saturday mornings on CBS so kids would even remember the said franchise. I’ll guess they’ll market “anything” though I don’t exactly remember the Beetle-mobile showing-up anywhere in the film. Talking creative license, but literally some had to “collect ’em all”.
But if you remember the smell of molded plastic, hunched over a set of blocks unto personal conspiracy in childish storytelling, as the theme was always “wham, bam, beat ’em up” when I sat there and played with those toys as the mind ran rampant with syrupy heroism and other hyper-jabbering obnoxiousness.
I come from the era of G.I. Joe and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. I’ll tell you, whoever manufactured those things would slap a high price-tag on them and make a lot of money. If you remember a mall outlet chain named “Kay-Bee’s Toys” it’s where all the fast kids’ merchandise moved at inflated prices. Space-ships and prickled squeeze-balls and sound-FX key-chains as there sure was a lot of plastic junk to be had.
The figures would be related to syndicated cartoons, concurrently running on television as the shows must have played nationwide I only knew the St. Louis market and it was surprising for me to learn that my favorite cartoons played elsewhere, maybe at slightly different time-slots or nature of the local commercials– and certainly the station-breaks. There’s an experience you’ll just know as a child of the 1980’s and 90’s as it seemed we had reached our pinnacle of carcinogen-laden molded plastic manufactured in places like Taiwan and China.
Now my generation is having kids as they must put-up with the same antics from their own, that they bothered and pestered their parents with. When it doubt, just give ’em a pair of socks to play with. And remember how you walked 10 miles through the snow just to get to school. Kid-marketers must be the most evil people, ever.
So what part of “no” don’t you understand, my Dad would ask me. Unless I chimed-in, noting it was “opposite-day” as he’d furrow his brow with a sure-fire sense of absurdity and slowly shuffle-off,leaving his boys to stare on, over the rack and then pursue him.
Just point the way to the ole’ dollar store and we’d have two dollars to spend on goodies, as “something was better than nothing” before we’d howl for a quarter by the local arcade. Home sweet home, and if these memories jog yours– we’ll be back again soon with more funny commentary.