This past weekend I visited the Houston Toy Museum, a new attraction located in an unassuming storefront on 19th Street in the Heights. Beyond the gift shop that must, by law, accompany every museum is a two-story collection of toys from the last seventy years. On display is everything from action figures to dolls to video games to Slinkys and whatever the heck this is:

While examining the various displays, I found myself awash in nostalgia - reminiscing about both the toys I wanted as a kid but never owned and the toys I did own but lost to the march of time as I became an adult. I couldn’t remember the very first toy I ever owned but, looking at the collection, I was reminded of the earliest toys I remember playing with, including a Mickey Mouse doll, a Fischer-Price Sesame Street playset and this exact dinosaur:

When I was around four years old I was introduced to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle phenomenon, just in time for the launch of Playmates’ initial line of action figures to hit shelves. My grandmother, visiting from San Antonio, bought me my first batch of Ninja Turtle action figures and, from there, I was hooked. Over the next three years, I would diligently pressure my parents into buying every new release. I pretty much owned every mutant, ninja, teen and turtle in the series - including multiple variations of the four main Turtles. I even owned an action figure where Ralphael was a soccer player.

Why? I was addicted to the turtles. At least for a time. As my interest in the Ninja Turtles started to wain, though, toy companies were at the ready to continue catering to my interests. There were X-Men and Spider-Men action figures, themed around the popular Saturday morning cartoons, to keep me collecting toys as I left elementary school and entered sixth grade. In middle school, long past the point where my friends had stopped buying toys, Todd McFarlane was there to ensure I did not stray from the action figure aisle. After all, McFarlane Toys, with its prominent presence at Spencer Gifts, had Movie Maniacs and the incredibly detailed Monsters playsets to collect.

The toys were pricier than your average superhero action figure but the fact that they looked like little statues helped the young man who was beginning to grow facial hair justify the fact that he was still buying toys. The lack of articulation in the toys was actually a bonus - these weren’t simple playthings I was forking over hard-earned allowance for - they were mini works of art. Or, at the very least, an investment!

As I entered high school, I was a constant reader of ToyFare Magazine, a sister publication to my beloved Wizard Magazine. This monthly periodical had a price guide and in-depth coverage of all the upcoming toys but - more important - it had the Rosetta’s Stone to understanding my current sense of humor. The magazine’s Twisted ToyFare Theater is the predecessor to ROBOT CHICKEN - with most of the folks responsible for the funny captions that ran in the magazine going on to work for the stop-motion comedy show. Between Wizard and ToyFare , my penchant for silly humor and pop culture references was born in the poop-joked-filled-pages of the two periodicals.

As I went further into my high school years, though, I found myself becoming increasingly more embarrassed to still be buying, let alone displaying toys. I specifically remember being 13 years old and the cashier at Target giving me a look that clearly meant “Dude…” as I tried to purchase a Wolverine action figure. I would continue to buy ToyFare every month until I graduated high school but I stopped buying new toys well before then.

In college, my priorities shifted and the world of toys was the furthest thing from my mind. What toys I had not sold or given away when my family moved from McAllen to Houston after I graduated high school went into storage and were almost completely forgotten about. Since I graduated college, though, my toy collection has slowly begun to fill back in. Every now and then, over the last fifteen years, I’ve bought a new action figure - usually something from NECA, whose line of movie figures is truly impressive - but even those toys are quickly taken out of the package and put on a shelf where they are then completely ignored.

Recently I wondered why I even still keep buying toys. Why does one own a toy as an adult? Presumably, it’s not to play with (no disrespect to those adults still playing with toys - seriously). It’s just that modern action figures seem to be more designed for display than play. Following in the footsteps of Todd McFarlane, the modern action figure is sculpted in a way that looks cool when sitting on a desk or shelf but does not have the articulation to do much else. Heck, the most popular toy on the shelf right now seems to be the FUNKO! Pop - giant chunks of plastic that, besides a quick paint job, are almost completely indistinguishable from each other. Why spend money on something you’re just going to put on a shelf and never touch again in your life - besides, maybe, picking it up after your cat knocks it over?

Toys are owned, at least by adults, for the same reason why people collect blu-rays or copies of books they’ve already read - to own something that brings you happiness and to be able and hold that happiness in your hand. You buy a FUNKO! Pop of Black Phillip because you remember the thrill you had watching THE WITCH. You buy a BACK TO THE FUTURE toy from NECA because looking at the chunk of plastic reminds you of the joy you felt watching the movie for the first time. We own toys to remind ourselves of happier times. It’s the reason why I had such a great time walking through the Houston Toy Museum - because I was transported, exhibit by exhibit, to a time before bills and before work and before life had slowly sapped me of the carefree ignorance that comes with being a child.

I get why people still buy toys. I get why some people buy a lot of toys. Life sucks - in big ways and small ways - if having an action figure or toy on your desk or bookshelf or nightstand table reminds you of a time that didn’t suck, buy all the toys you can.

It seems the journey of becoming an adult is to get rid of the trappings of our childhood as we leave our youth and then, after we’ve been an adult for a good long while, to spend the rest of our lives buying our childhood back.

All the while, the toy industry laughs.

The Carrying On Of A Wayward Son

A Toy Story