by Sienna Golden Malik
They went to school and whispered about the Spice Girls and the two boys in town behind their seemingly nonexistent teachers’ backs. They went home in a giant shoebox-schoolbus, and by the time they hit the first bus stop, the bus’s contents had shifted considerably. The school was always right by the nice part of town, so the popular girls—Polly with the blonde pigtails, Polly in the pink minidress, Polly’s brunette friend who always wore a swimsuit to school—were the first ones off the bus. I could have made them go home and do their homework, but after they finished cheerleading practice, it was usually partytime (whatever 7-year-old me thought cool teenagers did at parties).
At the height of their popularity, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles ruled the world. From cereals to video games to international musical stage tours to snack cakes, there was no medium those green bastards wouldn’t infiltrate.
Their most successful foray of all, however, was into the world of toys. Hundreds of different figures were produced and some of them were even re-released recently for another round of children and nostalgically-geeky adults like myself to snatch up and cradle in sublime solemnity.
Despite all of the interesting characters like the Rat King and Mondo Gecko, it was the playsets that really reigned supreme. There was the aptly-named Turtle Van, their dingy sewer hideout, the Turtle Blimp, and many others that littered the carpeted floors of many a kid’s bedroom in the 90s. We can only imagine the amount of these awesome toys that were found by school cleaning services, left behind by kids everywhere.
All of that aside, those figures and playsets had absolutely nothing on the epitome of amazing Ninja Turtle toys. This wasn’t just a playset, this was a dream come true. This was the toy that marked many people’s most memorable Christmas morning ever. This was the most magical, inspiring piece of colored plastic ever to grace the shelves of a local KB Toys, Kiddie City, or Toys R Us. This was the one toy to rule them all. This was THE TECHNODROME.
The worst part about the invention of the internet is its tendency to feed and aggravate shopping addictions because of its ease of use and endless amount of products to scan through. I don’t mean the normal kind of shopping like shoes and clothing and electronics, though. I’m talking about scouring eBay for pieces of my childhood and remnants of lost memories that take me back to that special, warm place where Dunkaroos, Pogs, and Surge soda filled every inch of my young brain with happiness.
Lately, I’ve been unable to engage in my addiction for lack of job and money, so I’ve compiled a wish list of things that I have every intention of buying as soon as my fiduciary status is more sufficient.