Developed out of nothing in Hungary, one of the top two coolest countries on this big blue marble we call Gaia, Rubik’s Cube swept the nation like no other cube since the ones made of frozen water.
This brightly colored, hand-held game resembled Lindsay Lohan’s celebrated FireCrotch in one significant way. At some point, everybody you knew had their paws all over it. They sold so many of these, I think there was 1.7 of them for every person in the United States. That is remarkable. What you did with it was up to you. Most gave up after 20 minutes, some persisted from 5 to 20 hours and managed to get one side uniform. Others pried every single cube off the damn thing and then one by one stuck them back on, 9 of the same colors to a side, until the puzzle had been “solved.” They then brought it to school, where they immediately got laid, sometimes even by their own math and/or science teacher. It was that big a deal. A small handful of users were able to fairly and legitimately solve the entire thing on their own–these whiz kids grew up to invent the Internet.
Some hardcore “speedcubers” would inject it with Vaseline, salad oil or even expensive imported civet urine in an effort to make it go faster. Others stuck it into a drawer or a shoebox where it probably sits to this day. Neither side was right or wrong. Again, it’s all about what’s good for you.
I personally only managed to get one side matched up a few times, but I can remember the, er, “feel” of it in my hands and believe that at the very least it made a decent alternative to worry beads or a stress squeeze toy.
It still sells steadily, even today (not quite Johnny Manziel football jersey steady, but definitely Picasso “Don Quixote” poster print steady) And why not? It’s a puzzle and human beings love trying to solve puzzles. Where the heck do you think religion comes from?
There was a brief time when the toy company Worlds of Wonder seemed like a truly magical place, a Willie Wonka-inspired (just check out those initials) toy factory that produced state of the art playthings that looked for all the world like minor miracles. Teddy Ruxpin “changed everything,” as they say. Finally, children could have a teddy bear that talked to them instead of just laying around in a heap most of the time. You could easily imagine Worlds of Wonder producing new and better toys year after year until by 2000 every child with the means would have their very own life-sized C3PO to boss around. It kind of didn’t work out that way (the company folded in 1990) but at least we had Teddy!
Or did we? In the light of day, Teddy was a boon companion, a joy to play with, a best friend. But there was a side to this bear that wasn’t so pleasant–when the batteries got low the toy exhibited a tendency to turn itself on at any time and emit terrible noises the Worlds of Wonder engineers had fashioned by recording the death throes of poisoned crows. The children, an entire generation of sweet innocents, didn’t know that the toy’s designers had meant it to be a “fun” way of telling them it was time to replace the batteries. All they knew was that they would wake up in the middle of the dark night to see their beloved Teddy’s eyes furiously snapping open and shut like castanets while his mouth emitted cacophonous shrieks. They would scream, wet the bed, faint and basically be scarred for life.
A supposedly new and improved version called Furby was released about ten years later, but anyone who has ever heard even one syllable of the Furbish tongue knows that these hairy plastic vermin were no “improvement,” but an even more insidious agent of devilment targeting our little ones.
It is no wonder the Millennials are are every bit as maladjusted as Generation X.
This fad swept through the high school halls and shopping malls of the 80s like a bad virus. It was an epidemic that left school administrators scrambling to re-write dress codes and parents wringing their hands in outright consternation at just “what” their little Johnny had become.
Now, in those days you couldn’t just saunter up to your local Piercing Pagoda with a coupla cans of Milwaukee’s Best in ya for courage and say “Pierce my ear, por favor.” You had to pick the right ear to get pierced and the right ear in the 80s was the left ear. That meant you were straight. If you got your other ear pierced there was going to be trouble at school before the first bell even rang, regardless if you liked guys or not. Actually, in most places it really didn’t matter which ear you had pierced—the sight of a traditionally female piece of jewelry pinned into the flesh of a male classmate was bound to enrage some poor lunkhead, or group of lunkheads, and a few names were going to get called at the very least, most of them beginning with the letters “F” or “Q.” If you had really bad luck, you’d get your nice Captain Morgan-inspired gold hoop ripped right out. Such was the tenor of the times.
Things simmered down pretty quickly, however, as more and more guys started sporting them and MTV certainly helped mainstream the look with its endless imagery of pop stars of every musical genre and sexual persuasion jumping around in music videos with all sorts of things dangling from all sorts of places. Nowadays, the crazy kids somehow contrive to insert plastic or wooden discs the diameter of 90s sensation POGS into their lobes, so a little quarter-carat cubic zirconia in the left ear of the 1984 Prom King doesn’t seem so quite so outrageous, does it?
Colored in shades that made them the perfect physical embodiment of Wyler’s fruit drink flavors, Wacky Wall Walkers stuck around about as long as a pitcher of ice cold Wyler’s on a hot summer day, but you have to admit that they were quite the concept. Kids love to throw things–whether it be snowballs at cars, eggs at houses (Justin Bieber keeps this tradition alive to this day) or an unwanted baby brother or sister out the window. Wacky Wall Walkers were kind of a benign form of therapy that allowed children the world over to get this potentially dangerous urge out of their system without harming any property or lives.
And really, who hasn’t dreamed of owning their very own miniature octopus? You didn’t even need a tank of water for it! Of course they only actually stuck to the wall about one-third of the time, although the success rate was higher if you flung it against a mirror, so if your parents were one of those “swinger” types with a bedroom tricked out in mirrors all over the walls and ceiling you could maybe get your money’s worth out of these. Because the sad fact was, when you finally did get it to stick to something the odds of it actually “walking” its way down, instead of cowering in a lump for three seconds and dropping straight to the carpet, were pretty low, too. Speaking of carpeting, I seem to remember these becoming covered in nasty, adhesively-debilitating fuzz almost the instant they were pulled out of their packaging.
So basically Wacky Wall Walkers were completely useless. Still, they were deemed cool enough to have their very own Christmas Special and you can’t say that about most toys!
It was the heart of the decade (1985) and from the heartland came a company selling heartfelt messages that touched the heart of everyone who saw them. Their framed pictures were the perfect tonic for a generation enervated by the rough and tumble 70s. Majestic purple mountains, fierce bald eagles, towering skyscrapers, even a common mutt dog leaping in the air to catch a bright red frisbee–Successories ability to pair striking images with pithy bromides to create lasting objects of inspiration was unparalleled.
The company flourished in the 80s and at one point even had stand-alone stores in malls across the nation, but they ran into a bit of trouble once “grunge” entered the pop culture scene in the early 90s. The princes of that slacker ethos had no use for Successories’ motivational corporatespeak. In fact, it enraged them. Kurt Cobain would often burn these on stage and then put out the fire with, yep, you guessed it, his own VD-tainted urine. Eddie Vedder threw snowballs at the companies headquarters every single time Pearl Jam passed through Illinois. (Except of course, when they toured in the Summer!) Layne Staley snorted a huge line of heroin off the glass of a 24″ X 36″ Successory one time and then put his combat boot right through the middle of it before falling over and nodding off for 16 hours. The guys from Screaming Trees would turn their heads and look away every time they passed one in the halls of Epic Records. Candlebox even addressed the company directly in a song, and it wasn’t exactly a love letter. Although “Successories Soul Sucker” was never actually released due to the group being dropped by their label.
All this negativity took its toll and by 1995 the company was reeling. And yet the workers there took their very own advice and refused to lose–they stayed positive, worked hard and ended up signing a great deal with the SkyMall catalog. They persevered, unrelentingly upbeat and unfailingly sincere to this very day. It’s comforting to know they are there.