So long, Toys ‘R’ Us. And thanks for the memories.
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I think I understand how the dinosaurs might have felt when they first caught a glimpse of that fiery ball of death that descended from space to end their world. I can best describe this feeling as a sense of impending doom brought on by the knowledge that my way of life is rapidly coming to an end. The latest sign? Toys ‘R’ Us is closing down or selling all of their stores.
Toys ‘R’ Us is so much more than a store for me. At different times, the store has been a dream factory, a haven and a setting for accomplishment. If you can call finally tracking down a much-desired “Star Wars” or Marvel Comic action figure an accomplishment. With the end drawing near, I’ve been reflecting on some of my favorite Toys ‘R’ Us related memories.
My earliest recollections of Toys ‘R’ Us aren’t of the store itself. It’s of television ads featuring Geoffrey the Giraffe. He seemed like the best friend a kid could ever have, one with the greatest toy box imaginable and who was willing to share. Provided you could talk your parents into parting with their money.
Beyond Geoffrey, there was that jingle. “I don’t wanna grow up/ I’m a Toys ‘R’ Us kid…” That little ditty bored its way into your head and lived there. Admit it. Reading this has gotten that tune stuck in your head. I apologize for nothing.
Some of my best Toys ‘R’ Us memories were amassed during the days I spent questing after “Star Wars” toys back in my college days. My best friend Erik and I would jump in the car and drive all over Idaho and Utah, on the hunt for chase figures we needed to complete our respective collections.
Each trip was fun, full of joke-cracking, fast food and metal music blasting from the stereo. When we found a item we needed, we would march out the front door, raise our bag-laden arms in the air and bellow a great roar of victory.
Perhaps my most epic Toys ‘R’ Us memory happened at a Colorado store Erik and I stopped at on the way home from the first-ever “Star Wars.” Celebration. High on a whole weekend packed with “Star Wars” goodness, we hit a Toys ‘R’ Us, desperate to pick up some of the newly released “Phantom Menace” toys. Having picked out and purchased the items we most desired, we strode triumphantly out of the store, giving the biggest, most resounding victory roar of all time.
My Toys ‘R’ Us weren’t always successful. One trip ended with some dufus we’d never met before gloating that he got the last Slave Leia figure. This dude became our nemesis. The anger from this scenario embedded itself in my brain, that I wrote a scene my first feature-length screenplay, complete with the smug offending collector receiving a beat-down.
But Toys ‘R’ Us also served as a haven for me over the years. When my college roommate would push me to my breaking point, I would lose myself in aisles of “Star Wars” and comic book characters. When my lack of dating success would bum me out, I’d find serenity while browsing through LEGO sets and video games. When work bummed me out, I’d cheer myself up by buying some really cool “Godzilla” collectible or, more recently, Funko Pop figure. It may seem messed up that anyone could find peace in the aisles of a toy store, but it worked for me.
Toys ‘R’ Us is front and center in many of my happiest memories, as well as few sad ones. This store has been a big part of my life, and I imagine there are many other people who feel similarly. I thankful to have grown up in an era when collecting was an action sport. I’m happy that I was able to grow friendships and find inspiration through my trips to Toys ‘R’ Us. I’m sad that it’s coming to an end, but I still give Geoffrey and Toys ‘R’ Us a big thank for helping me figure out who I am. High Five, Geoffrey!!
