When I was in kindergarten, I broke my leg. Well, a drunk driver broke my leg, or gravity broke my leg… my leg was broken is the takeaway here. During the year I spent off my feet, I had a great deal of time in-my-0wn-head, and I was that kind of kid already. I grew fascinated with creating stories for my action figures (they’re not dolls!), filling my days with storytelling and trying to not think about the fact that I was in a body-cast (or in traction, which was part of the year).
My newest toys were the Masters of the Universe line, as it was 1982 and they were so cool looking. Well, not all of them. I remember, even as a kid, not being sure how much I was into He-Man himself. He was meant to be the hero, and his sword was cool as was his story, but he had sort of a bowl cut Superman feel to him, and I was never into Superman.
His enemy, Skeletor… Skeletor I could get into.
If you don’t know Skeletor– what the crap, man? But here’s a picture of him:
Instantly, if you know me, you can see 4 reasons I’d be into this guy visually:
- He’s blue
- He wears purple
- his face is a freaking skull
- and it’s day-glow
I made up numerous stories for Skeletor, as the little comic he came with wasn’t super-detailed and the cartoon wasn’t around just yet. I remember one in particular where it was He-Man’s fault he had no face (sort of a Face/Off story in Eternia) and he was NOT PLEASED.
Skeletor was my favorite non-Super Hero, non-Boba Fett figure (and would be until Snake Eyes from GI Joe took his place). I loved him so that my Mom made me an awesome homemade Skeletor Halloween costume the next year, complete with a painted face. I was so proud. So, so proud.
One of the things I realize as I grow older is that when we’re young, we do a bad job of expressing that sense of pride and of happiness to people. For me, I see my Mom now and I wonder if she knows all the memories that I cherish, if she realizes how much things like that meant.