Ahh where to start... Posted by: Stofer 4-1-01 12:01am I guess begin at the beginning. I was born in 1971, well "technically" anyway. Everyone really knows history began in 1977. Although many historians and scientists will tell you otherwise, don't believe them. What do historians and scientists really know anyway? It was actually 1978, however, where my first real memory comes in. And that memory was, of course, K-Mart. That great store of middle-America that has unfortunately lost some of it's luster in recent years. I know this mainly because I remember how BIG they used to be. Huge stores with shelves so high you could barely see the tops. Spacious enough that you could wander around the store for hours trying to loose your parents. And usually you could suceed, something rather harder to do in a smaller establishment like, say, your local convience store. I'm not sure when it happened, because I don't remember the construction, but at some point in time K-mart compacted their store. I've been back recently and the place just isn't as large as it used to be. And they must have dropped the ceiling and, similarly, the shelves, because I can now see over them if I jump up and down a bit (which is not something I necessarily recommend doing in the middle of a K-mart store.) And to top it all off, K-mart has lost ground to stores with weird sounding names that seem to have nothing to do with what they actually sell inside. Names that imply archery equipment. At K-Mart you knew what the K stood for. It stood for Kenner. Rows and rows of Kenner. Aisles stacked ceiling to floor with Kenner figures, Kenner Tie Fighters and X-Wings, and the almighty Kenner Death Star Playset. Oh sure, they had other stuff too, like clothes (ho-hum), household accesories (yawn), and auto parts (Zzzzz), but those were there just to keep the parents entertained while K-mart's true customers roamed the toy aisles. K-mart also had to make sure to wean away some of the parents money as most 6-year-olds do not make enough to keep an entire retail chain in business; a fact that I realize today, but did not quite understand back then (as you can see, I've learned a lot about how the world works since my childhood.) On this particular day, I can remember looking for one figure which I had had some trouble finding, the Jawa. I searched and searched through the plentiful pegs within my reach near the bottom of the shelves but came up empty. I was not to be discouraged, though. Standing on the shelves, I stretched up to the highest row, hanging onto the sides of the aisle like a mountain climber trying to get that next handhold. My fingers barely reached, flicking the bottoms of the carded beauties while my eyes strained to see to the back of the row. And then I saw it. The elusive Jawa. The only one on the peg and it was about to be mine. There was only one problem, how to get it down. I had to remove all the figures in front of it first. I worked the first two off the peg rather easily although they both bounced off my head, landing with a crunch on the ground. The next couple were a bit harder because they had to be pulled out so far along the wire, but I had figured out how to avoid being hit on the noggin. Instead I let these two crash directly to the floor, bending up the card and denting the bubbles on the hard lenolium rather than my melon. The fifth and final figure before my prize, was giving me trouble however, until an old lady offered her help. I accepted warily, wondering if she'd try to steal the beauty for herself. But in the end that thought was unfounded and I felt a bit guilty for considering it, at least for the next fifteen seconds because after that the elation of the Jawa took over. When my parents found me again after I had sucessfully dodged them for a full hour, we headed to the check out. This time I was buying the Jawa with my own money, a first in Starwarsfiguredom for me. My parents of course had picked up a few items for themselves; my mom, a few new books and my father, some fishing lures. I thought they really needed them at the time. I know know that they were just doing their best to keep Kenner-Mart in business; they really didn't need those items. My mom had hundreds of books at home; and my dad at least two lures for every book. They were looking out for me and Kenner-Mart. In the car on the way home, I ripped open the pristeen package, shredding cardboard all over the back seat. At last I had the plastic possession in my hand. Wow. The Jawa. It was amazing, especially that cool little blaster and plastic cape. I couldn't wait to show all my friends. Billy was the next door neighbor and I was out the car and ringing his bell before the vehicle came to a complete stop in our driveway. Billy answered the door and looked elated. "I just got back from K-Mart" he said. "Come look!" He hadn't been to the store I'd been to, but to another, one town over. I followed him into the living room, wondering what toy he had managed and thinking of possibilities for playing with his new item and my new Jawa. My excitement disappated, though, as he pulled a figure out of a plastic K-Mart bag. The Jawa. He'd found it too. But wait! This one was different. His had a *cloth* cape! Weird. I admit I was a bit jealous. I looked at my toy in its flimsy and suddenly cheap looking plastic attire. I had been ready to be the talk of the neighborhood with my great find, but my splendor had been taken from me before it had even materialized. The cloth cape was *so* much cooler. I went home dejected. My plastic caped Jawa still brought me joy, but not the prestige I had hoped for. Instead of my grand ideas for him, he ended up being used mostly to operate the weapon on the Death Star playset. I figured he was upset about being outclassed, so why not let him blow up a few planets. I soon realized, however, why Kenner replaced the plastic cape with the nifty cloth one. A short time later the vinyl ripped around the arm hole. Cheap plastic cape. I threw it out.