nostalgicBest. Toy. Ever.
If my mother thought it might be dangerous for me to spend hours sitting on the steps in front of our apartment wearing cut-off shorts and breathing the fumes from a boiling cauldron of molten plastic, she never said anything; really, she probably figured it was cheaper than eating paste or sniffing markers until they dried out (big hobbies with the other kids on my block). Besides, my infinite supply of interestingly-colored plastic creatures meant I only tried to beg for quarters when I wanted gum or a superball, and that was much more reasonable than trying to feed my endless hunger for hideous horror movie props.
I was, I think, nine when my sister (Rachel, the youngest one) wandered innocently out onto the porch, grabbed hold of the cord on my Creepy Crawler machine, and gave it a good yank. The machine promptly flew into the air and stuck to the side of my right calf, at which point I began wailing like a banshee on acid. The machine fell down; the mold didn't. My mother came running out of the apartment and sensibly grabbed my little sister, who was in serious danger of being pitched off the balcony once I finished screaming, and then ran back inside to get some ice. I managed to knock the mold off my leg, leaving an enormous glob of bright orange molten Plasti-Goop behind. More screaming.
Mom came out, and wiped away the plastic; my leg was already starting to blister. I still have the scar, a strawberry-shaped white patch about the size of a man's thumb print on my right calf. It makes an entertaining conversation piece, since "Where did you get that scar?" is rarely answered with "My sister spilled a molten plastic caterpillar mold on my leg."
I miss my Creepy Crawler machine. And if I had it, there's not a parent I know who'd let their children near my house ever again.
January 27 2010, 20:40:24 UTC 7 years ago
Got that *exact* machine in 1965, for Christmas. That's the year I got my first record player (at the tender age of 5) and he gave me the Beatles on 45 RPM because he was 'tired of them.' I'm not sure if it was that, or to save him from the endless repetitions of the one Disney record that came with the player.
But the creepy crawler thing? Was actually a combo player with Vac-U-Form being the other half of the combo. This thing. See that black pit? That's where creepy crawlers come from. You also cooked your pre-perfed plastic sheets over that and then SLAMMED them over the molds you had set up on the opposite side and hopefully got something that looked like a toy instead of a plastic biscuit.
Did I mention hot? And if you happened to miss the perfs with that sheet of plastic, what happened? PHEW. And I was a helpful little mite - and adored that big brother. So when he missed and first impulse grabbed - well, I did too and blam. My poor brother. He was endlessly saving me from myself, it would seem.
(I'm also the one with a messed up lower lip because I wanted to see what light tasted like and attempted it with a nightlight (three degree electrical burn and lost 50% of the lower lip). Guess who pulled me off the circuit? Yeah.)
February 1 2010, 16:48:48 UTC 7 years ago
And yet you lived.
February 1 2010, 23:16:03 UTC 7 years ago
(Yes, I was just that sweet and tender a little mite. Who me? I'd *never* - except, oh yes I did. I caught the toads, the mice, the praying mantis' - and my older brother? He's the superintendent of schools over in San Bruno. No, really. He saves hundreds of kids from themselves daily. And gets paid for it!)