KITTEN COLLECTIBLES #16: Saved By the Cow!

In addition to watching and writing about films, I’m something of a memorabilia collector. I ain’t out there bidding on Dorothy’s ruby slippers or anything, but certainly enjoy haunting local shops for a variety of movie-related stuff. Or when feeling particularly bold, I’ll occasionally overpay for some retro relic on eBay. More often than not, I leave stores empty-handed. But every now and then, I’ll find a small treasure that doesn’t completely empty my wallet and give it a new home in the Dave Cave.

A Treasure Hunt by D.M. ANDERSON💀

As of this writing, I am a fugitive…at large, on the lam, a wanted man. And they’ll never take me alive.

My crime? It all started one Sunday afternoon several weeks ago, when the family and I decided to visit some of the unique local shops in a part of Portland we don’t regularly frequent. Of particular interest to me was Rewind Toys and Collectibles, a fairly new vintage store. Well, new to me, anyway.

Being that it was an unfamiliar neighborhood, I was keeping a sharp eye out for the street I needed...so sharp that I blew right through an intersection while the light was red, despite my wife shouting “Dave! Dave! Dave!” I also caught the unmistakable flash of a traffic camera, catching me dead to rights. Shit.

“Well, I guess I have that to look forward to in the mail,” I groused. My wife and daughters, however, thought it was hilarious, probably because I always boasted myself as a great driver and often pointed out how bad others are. I’m sometimes even critical of my own family’s driving skills. Almost immediately, my girls came up with a nickname, “Red Light Runner,” which they proceeded to chorus at every subsequent traffic light. And it has since become a running gag whenever I go through an intersection while the light is yellow…which happens a lot more than I’d like to admit.  

In fact, maybe it’s time to admit that I’m not the skilled motorist I always considered myself to be. After all, the last traffic ticket in the family was mine (also for running a red light), as was the last fender bender. In the interim, there have been dozens of occasions where I nearly backed into something, tried to switch lanes while another car was there, or rear-ended the driver in front of me. If not for the vigilance of my wife in the passenger seat, there’s a chance I might’ve killed thousands by now. 

Anyway, we eventually found the place, crammed with vintage toys from days gone by and operated by a guy named Joe, who was friendly, helpful and pretty knowledgeable of his inventory. Like similar stores, a lot of it didn’t pique my interest (Pokemon, Star Wars, Funko Pops, superheroes), but tucked in the back of a display case was a Hanson Brothers action figure from the classic film, Slap Shot, the best sports movie ever made. Consider it sold, Joe!

I continued browsing, and just when I thought I’d seen everything worth buying on this trip, I spotted it, sitting high atop another display case…an old plastic toy helicopter from the film, Blue Thunder. Unlike a lot of the figures and models I collect that were never actually meant to be played with, this was a genuine tie-in toy that definitely was played with. Until now, I’d never seen one before. That’s the kind of shit I love finding…memorabilia and toys from old movies that didn't become cultural milestones (which explains why I have so much crap related to The Black Hole).

Joe's place to the Dave Cave!

Joe obviously knew he had something rare, reflected by the price tag. Besides getting the wife’s blessing, I had to decide what was more pressing…grabbing this ancient beauty or using the same cash to pay the inevitable traffic ticket that was destined to arrive in my mailbox. Then Joe made my decision easier by knocking 25 bucks off the price…ticket be damned.

But even after three weeks of opening the mailbox each day with mounting dread, that ticket never came. Did I get away with it? If not, what were the Portland Police waiting for? After all, their traffic cam caught me in the act!

Then I realized something. When we bought our car (brand new and equipped with enough sensors, alarms & warning lights to remind me what a shitty driver I really am), we never attached the front license plate. Instead, we put on a novelty plate of a cartoon cow to give the car more personality. The cow’s expression is probably identical to the look of terror on mine and my wife’s faces when I blasted through the red light…which means (fingers still crossed) that the traffic cam did not capture our actual license plate number! Woo hoo! 

Saved by the cow!

On the other hand, maybe I’m not out of the woods just yet. For all I know, there’s now a city-wide APB on me. “Calling all cars. Calling all cars. Be on the lookout for a late model Nissan with a terrified bovine of the front bumper and an epic dumbass behind the wheel with the same expression. Last seen overpaying for a toy assault helicopter.” 

At any rate, they haven’t found me yet. I remain at-large and a menace to society, especially to any motorists unfortunate enough to be sharing the road with me. And thanks to my family, I have a moniker befitting my notorious life of crime: The Red Light Runner.

KITTEN COLLECTIBLES #15: The Long Flight Delay

In addition to watching and writing about films, I’m something of a memorabilia collector. I ain’t out there bidding on Dorothy’s ruby slippers or anything, but certainly enjoy haunting local shops for a variety of movie-related stuff. Or when feeling particularly bold, I’ll occasionally overpay for some retro relic on eBay. More often than not, I leave stores empty-handed. But every now and then, I’ll find a small treasure that doesn’t completely empty my wallet and give it a new home in the Dave Cave.

A Treasure Hunt by D.M. ANDERSON💀

Just recently, an itch was finally scratched.

Of all the different cinematic knick-knacks and doo-dads I collect, my favorites are die-cast replicas of vehicles from various movies…especially older movies, which aren’t always so easy to find. Hence, I probably shelled-out more than I needed to for the likes of the Deathmobile from 1978’s Animal House, and the titular terror from 1977’s delightfully daffy dumpster fire, The Car. And I’m always on the hunt for a decent deal on Herbie from The Love Bug.

Alas, there are some vehicles I’ll probably never see in my display case...Damnation Alley’s Landmaster, one of the trucks from Sorcerer, any of the racecars used in Death Race 2000, the blimp from Black Sunday, just to name a few. As far as I know, no such replicas exist. But it pays to be vigilant, because lo and behold, I stumbled upon a website that was taking pre-orders for diecast models of the fictional airliners from the Airport series of disaster films, which has been my favorite genre since I was a kid. Woah!

Since just one would cost more than I’ve ever dropped for a single collectible, I made sure to get the wife’s okay (I now owe her four pedicure sessions) before whipping out my Visa card and gleefully trumpeting “Just shut up and take my money!” Because I hold the most nostalgic fondness for Airport 1975 (even if it isn’t necessarily the best of them), I chose the Columbia Airlines 747 from that film. 

That was almost two years ago. The shipping date came-and-went with no fucking plane in my mailbox, and months of corresponding with the seller grew increasingly frustrating. They said the biggest obstacle holding things up were those wonderful new tariffs that were making America great again. As if I needed another reason to wish the tortures of the damned upon that greasy, gelatinous primate squatting in the White House, the motherfucker had to make it personal! 

On numerous occasions, I considered cancelling the order. While I’m fairly secure financially, that’s a shit-ton of money that might have been put to more practical use…like a life-sized Alien xenomorph figure that would look great in the living room (anticipating the wife’s refusal to let that ever happen, booking a romantic weekend with her at the beach would work, too). To put my total wait time in perspective, it takes Boeing roughly four months to build a real 747. During the days, weeks & months I waited at the mailbox, six new jumbo jets took to the friendly skies. 

Then just as I was ready to give up and book that beach weekend instead, I got an e-mail saying my order was on its way. Here’s what a hopeless nerd I am (even at my age): I left work early to be home the minute it arrived. When it finally did, I heard a heavenly choir as I unboxed the plane and gazed in awe at this shiny diecast wonder. It was beautiful…the only thing that would’ve made it perfect are tiny Roy Thinnes and Erik Estrada figures flying from the ripped-open cockpit.

It’s also heavy enough to kill a man if I were so inclined. Serving as both a prized collectible and a blunt-force method of self-defense, I guess it was a practical purchase after all. My family was slightly less impressed, offering a collective “that’s nice” from my daughters and “that’s going downstairs in your room, right?” from my wife. As the Holy Grail of diecast collectibles (for now), you’re damn right it is, baby.

Ideal for home defense.

 

KITTEN COLLECTIBLES #10: Shut Up and Take My Money

A Treasure Hunt by D.M. ANDERSON💀

In addition to watching and writing about films, I’m something of a memorabilia collector. Cursed with a teacher’s salary, I ain’t out there bidding on Dorothy’s ruby slippers or anything, but certainly enjoy haunting local shops for a variety of movie-related stuff. Or when feeling particularly bold, I’ll occasionally overpay for some retro relic on eBay. More often than not, I leave stores empty-handed. But every now and then, I’ll find a small treasure that doesn’t completely empty my wallet and give it a new home in the Dave Cave.

During the holidays, my father, bless his heart, always gives me a rather sizeable check. Thanks to him, I’m afforded the opportunity to blow money on frivolous shit without feeling guilty about it. At no other time would I drop $160 bucks on a Lego set at my age. But not just any Lego set.

I loved Legos as a kid, but back then, sets weren’t created and sold to build anything specific…just a big box of bricks to construct whatever you could imagine. And my collection was huge, the result of being the go-to gift for relatives to buy me when they couldn't think of anything else. Except my grandmother, of course, who gave me a subscription to National Geographic every year under the apparent assumption that’s what preteen boys enjoyed reading. Good thing she never got a look under my mattress.

After leaving such childhood things behind, Lego sets became more elaborate…and expensive. Not only that, you can hardly find just a simple box of bricks anymore. Every set is designed to build something specific, with accompanying instructions. I have a friend - a big Star Wars nut - who shelled out $300 for a Millennium Falcon set. After spending 18 hours putting it together, he proudly brought it to work so we could admire his achievement. I offered a polite attaboy, but was mostly thinking, A little obsessed, aren’t ya guy? I mean, Star Wars is a great movie, but geez.

Lego Jaws, though? 1,497 pieces dedicated to the greatest movie ever made? Just shut up and take my money. 

As of this writing, it’s still in its beautiful blue box, and I’m waiting until I have a good 18 hours to kill before putting it together. Afterwards, I’ll proudly show it to my wife so she can admire my achievement, and likely offering her own polite attaboy while silently thinking that money would’ve been put to better use on a pressure washer. Just like she did when I recently dropped 75 bucks on a Pulp Fiction action figure (but more on that later).

Then it will become part of my ever-growing Jaws shrine, never to be disassembled.

KITTEN COLLECTIBLES #9: Another Small Town Alien Invasion

A Treasure Hunt by D.M. ANDERSON💀

In addition to watching and writing about films, I’m something of a memorabilia collector. Cursed with a teacher’s salary, I ain’t out there bidding on Dorothy’s ruby slippers or anything, but certainly enjoy haunting local shops for a variety of movie-related stuff. Or when feeling particularly bold, I’ll occasionally overpay for some retro relic on eBay. More often than not, I leave stores empty-handed. But every now and then, I’ll find a small treasure that doesn’t completely empty my wallet and give it a new home in the Dave Cave.

About once a year, I'm dragged kicking and screaming to my mother-in-law’s house. Not that I don’t enjoy her company, but we live in Portland, Oregon and she lives four hours away in Grandview, Washington, a small agricultural town where the cows outnumber the people. To get there, we’re required to drive through the Columbia Gorge, which is admittedly beautiful, but interminable if you’ve been making that trek most of your adult life. 

Oregon is widely considered a “blue state” populated by liberal-thinking people, which to a certain extent is true. But that’s only west of the Cascade Mountains, where most of the population lives. The further east you go, the towns grow smaller, while the number of TRUMP banners and pick-ups grow larger. It’s through this wasteland of gun racks & MAGA hats we must journey.

Still, my wife and I make the most of it by making stops along the way…wineries, the local fish hatchery and a little antique store I discovered a few years ago in the blink-and-you’ll-miss-it town of Bingen, Washington.  Located on the main (only?) street is Antiques & Oddities, a large place with a few dozen vendor booths. For the most part, these booths offer genuine antiques, as opposed to stuff someone’s trying to unload after cleaning their garage. 

Since I only visit the store about once a year, I usually find something that makes paying the bridge toll into Washington worth it. This time I grabbed something I didn’t know even existed: a board game from Parker Brothers based on the classic 1977 film, Close Encounters of the Third Kind…still sealed! The movie doesn’t really seem conducive to a board game tie-in and the description on the box makes it sound kinda boring. But hey, I wasn’t planning on opening it to find out, anyway. The sealed box alone was worth the forty bucks I shelled out for it. 

Another thing I didn’t know existed was a line of action figures based on the 1999 film, Virus. The movie itself is a derivative Alien rip-off about an extraterrestrial entity that manipulates technology and turns its victims into Borg-like monsters. As disposable sci-fi junk-food goes, it’s a passable time killer, but does feature Jamie Lee Curtis. The figure I found is her character, Kelly Foster (with a similarly hot bod). I didn’t pay much for it, but there’s something fun about finding relatively obscure action figures nobody asked for based on movies nobody saw.

We left about seventy bucks lighter ($80, counting the coffee we needed to stay frosty for the rest of the journey). But this brief detour was well worth it, as I’d never seen either of these things before.