The lingering death of Toys “R” Us has obviously sparked a lot of emotions among toy collectors. It has long stood out as a place for lovers of toys, and many people have fond memories of childhood intimately connected to the chain.
For my part, I’ve been feeling like an outsider to all of this discussion. Like many, my childhood was bombarded by those bright, cheery commercials where the kids proclaim they didn’t want to grow up, they wanted to be a “Toys ‘R’ Us” kid. The commercials would show what seemed like miles and miles of aisles. To a toy-loving kid, it seemed like Valhalla. I was satisfied with the department stores that supplied the vast majority of my toy needs at the time — Best, Hills and Kmart — but those advertisements always held the promise of … more.
More is a very contagious idea to a kid.
Without a TRU in my area, in fact with the closest one being a few hours away, I was left to ponder the potential of a huge store dedicated to toys. As with anything, the myth of such a thing grew to enormous proportions. It seemed like my brain would explode if I merely walked into a TRU. It seemed like a store that would propel the pleasure centers of my brain into a state of catatonic euphoria the likes of which would render me inert from the eyes down, allowing me to only drool and mumble while my peepers sucked in all the sights it could see.
It may have been that the commercials oversold the experience, but a small part of me wanted to be a damn Toys “R” Us kid too.
My only contact with “toy stores” — meaning, stores whose entire existence was dedicated to toys — at this point were with the small Kay-Bee store at the mall, and with a franchise known as Tons o Toys.
For a brief time, Kay-bee had that magical feeling that I imaged TRU would have if I was ever lucky enough to step inside one. It was a bright, shining spot at the other end of the mall, a candy-colored playground whose sole existence was dedicated to toys. Upon closer inspection, they were really only good for a couple of toy lines, so it was more about the vibe than what they could do.
Tons of Toys … well, that was a raging disappointment. Showing up sometime in 1987 a few stores down from Hills department store, I thought it would bring me some small amount of pleasure that millions of kids with their very own TRU stores felt.
Instead, it was a store filled with discount rubbish, party favors and a single aisle of radically overpriced toys. $8 for a C.O.P.S. Figure might not seem like a lot now, but just try to get your mom to buy you a figure at nearly twice the price you could find them at Hills.
Needless to say, our local Tons of Toys did not stick around for long. It seemed to disappear overnight, and I like to think it was driven out by empty-walleted parents with torches and pitchforks and burning Dobermans. Burning Dobermans would make a great band name.
I would first step foot into a Toys “R” Us in the summer of 1988. Children of the ’80s had thus far spent the vast majority of their formative years getting tickled by Geoffrey the Giraffe, but I was already into the double digits of age, which, as anyone knows, is that much closer to triple digits, and as far as I know, nobody has made it into the quadruples.
With years of brainwashing and indoctrination into believing that TRU would be the greatest thing ever, I stepped inside and … boy, was I underwhelmed.
To me, it seemed to take the compact awesomeness of the toy section of Best Department store and spread it into an entire store. It’s like if you take a chocolate cupcake and split it among 35 other people. As a single, cohesive and compact unit, it’s awesome. But spread out like that? Barely satisfying.
OK, my science may be a bit off there, but I never had that HOLYCOWTHEREARESOMANYTOYSITHINKIJUSTPEEDALITTLE experience with TRU.
I no longer wanted to be a TRU kid. As it turns out, I was pretty happy with the kind of kid I already had been for these many years.
In truth, it was kind of a load off my mind. I could kind of rest easy, knowing that I hadn’t really missed that much. I guess there might have been some moral of the story there about appreciating what you have instead of pining for the unknown, but screw that, nobody wants to learn things.
I was a spoiled-ass kid, though, so I did end up walking out of that store with the Powermaster Optimus Prime. That’s the one where you take a normal Optimus Prime and you shove him up his own caboose and he comes out 50 percent more awesome.
Not long after that they began building a Toys “R” Us right in my very own city. By this time, Best had been taken behind the barn and had a cap put in its head, and Kmart was heading more toward “junk,” so Hills department store was the only real toy refuge left. I ended up being no more mindblown by the brand new local TRU than I had been by the one I first stepped inside.
But I was a little older now, so my expectations were not quite as high. As such, TRU became just a place to get toys. It wasn’t Valhalla, it wasn’t the greatest place on earth, it was just another place. And it was … serviceable enough. It would become a semi-regular addition to the toy hunting rotation as I moved into my teen years.
I found the Marvel Superheroes Silver Surfer and Venom there before any other store received them.
Being able to play the Sega Genesis in their public setup solidified my choice in that video game system.
When Star wars returned under the Power of the Force label, they showed up at TRU first, and I bought Obi-Wan and Darth Vader. Both of which were the long-saber versions (remember that?)
I found the hard to find PotF Lando there and bought two — one to open, and one to keep carded, because that’s what I did back then. Like many, I though they’d be worth something. Oh ho ho.
Occasionally, I’d find something hard to find, but not often. More often than not the same stock would linger. Cases of Star Wars would sometimes never make it out to the pegs. I remember watching my LCS owner waltz into the backroom like he owned the place.
I was not above walking back there myself.
It would be the only place I found the 1/100 Gundam Wing models when I was into building those.
I had just missed the 6th series of Marvel Legends, the one with Deadpool and Juggernaut. All that was left was a single Tom Jane Punisher. Bastards!
It’s weird what sticks with you out of so many visits. Years passed, and I’d pick up something here or there, usually an exclusive if it was available. Over time it stopped being a regular place to go. It was all the way over there, you see, and it was out of the way. I’d go there once in a while, but not often. I don’t want to grow up — when The Who say they hope they die before they get old, they’re not talking years, but a state of mind — but I was not a Toys “R” Us kid.
I was just a kid who loved toys.
So long, TRU, and thanks for Powermaster Optimus Prime.
