In my opinion, the next-biggest vintage arcade game that changed the world, after Pac-Man, was Donkey Kong. It also launched a franchise that you could argue became even bigger, via the character of Mario (originally, Jumpman), who is here described as "a carpenter."
Pauline, strangely, is only referred to as "Fair Maiden," capitalized. Mario is referred to by name in the actual instructions. Here is what the board looks like, all set up:
And now, the playing pieces:
Two things quickly become apparent--first, these old stickers always have to be re-glued (use acid free PVA glue, folks), and second, Donkey Kong looks a little obscene.
Above are Mario and his clones--the green one instantly makes us think of Luigi, of course. This game had the cool gimmick of using Donkey Kong as a barrel dispenser, powered by a rubber band. I loved it when board games did something like that, back in the day.
Here is the uncluttered game board:
Basically, the game play involves getting to the top of the girders--just like the video game. You roll two dice each turn, and one of them (the red one) moves the barrels and fireballs. The barrels move from the top to bottom, and the fireballs (which barrels turn into once they arrive at the oil can) move in the opposite direction. Your only hope of dealing with them are through cards that are drawn:
You get three cards at the beginning, but after that, you can only draw them when you land on spaces with a red dot. These allow you to jump over or--in the case of the hammer--destroy both the barrel and fireball! Strangely, when you are on a ladder and between floors, you are actually protected from barrels (but not fireballs)...unlike the game. Also, fireballs destroy barrels they run into.
Played cards are set aside for points. If you encounter an obstacle on your own turn, and have no cards to play, you forfeit an already-played card, and lose the points. If you encounter an obstacle on you opponent's turn, they get to steal a card from you, which is added to their own points!
Here is where it gets weird: if it's your turn, and you get hit, AND you have no cards to play OR cards set aside for points...it's okay. Nothing happens. However, if it happens on your opponent's turn, they still get to steal cards from you!
So now, the burning, eternal question with these types of board games: is it successful in replicating the experience of playing the actual video game, or is it just a board game about this video game?
Actually, I have to say that they obviously put some effort into this one, and it does feel like brining Donkey Kong home with you. Remember, the only other way we had, back then, to recreate the feel of being in the arcade....was this:
A brown blob rolling chocolate chip cookies downhill at you!
However, that doesn't mean it's not without some negatives, too. First, all the mechanics involved with the barrels and fireballs can be a little overly-complicated, which leads to lots of having to stop and reference the instructions. I could see this bogging down when trying to play with small kids, and it makes the game run a little long. Heck, my average 25 cents' worth of Donkey Kong was much shorter...but that's probably not a good comparison.
One thing that would've improved the game play was allowing the opposing player to control the obstacles, instead of having the current player roll two dice and do everything. It might have sped things up, too.
And here is the rather involved instruction manual:
Today, let's look at some unseen, incredible historical documents, which are integral parts of Godzilla history! Before we continue, you need to be familiar with the man, the legend: Stanley Weston!
Stanley Weston (1933-2017) was, quite literally, the grandfather of the action figure (he invented a little thing called G.I. JOE, for example). You can read up on him via a decent Wikipedia article, but there is also an excellent section in the MEGO 8" SUPER HEROES - WORLD'S GREATEST TOYS! book by Benjamin Holcomb about him...because at one point, Weston held the license for both Marvel and DC characters simultaneously, and the famous Mego line never would have happened without him.
He made tons of other contributions, but for our purposes here, Weston recognized the potential in licensing entertainment properties for use, and formed a company called the Weston Merchandising Corporation (this later led to Leisure Concepts, which in 1995 turned into 4Kids Entertainment, which I bet you've heard of).
Weston Merchandising Corporation counted Toho as one of their clients (who was represented by Daniel O'Shea, working out of the Time-Life building in New York City), and together they brokered the deals that resulted in Godzilla's first American products!
First up is a letter from April 21, 1965, where Weston sent over licensing agreements making it possible for the Donruss Company to include Godzilla in a new trading card series they were working on! We know it as the KING KONG set:
Godzilla appears on 11 cards from the set (all from KING KONG vs. GODZILLA): #3, 17, 19, 21, 30, 31, 32, 33, 38, 39, and 42 (one card even has Godzilla solo, with NO Kong in sight).
And here is Daniel O'Shea's belated response:
"Sorry to be so long getting these back to you."
A check for Toho's advance royalties was also sent with the copies of the agreement:
While it wouldn't surprise me if Weston licensed the first official Godzilla item in the U.S. (the Ideal board game), we can be positive that he did license the second--the famous Aurora model kit!
Below is a letter from May 25, 1965, where Weston was sending Aurora's most recent Royalty Report to Daniel O'Shea, showing 6,744 units sold (it says this is for the month of "April 1965"). The report bears the signature of the Vice President of Aurora!
Next is another Royalty Report from Aurora, and the letter is dated February 21, 1966. What's interesting is that it states that up to that date, they had paid Toho royalties of $15,458.97. This is telling when you remember that the 1964 model kit cost less than a dollar!
Note too that the check Weston mentions sending to Toho totals 50% of what Aurora paid:
Lastly, here is a letter dated March 8, 1966, where Weston extended Aurora's licensing agreement for Godzilla for an additional year (as the kit continued to be extremely popular, and a second kit had already briefly happened by this point):
This was signed by all parties involved:
And there you have a look behind the scenes at some of the necessary minutia that resulted in classic Godzilla collectibles! As you can probably tell, I own the February 25, 1965 documents (hence the decent scan), and I am not only thrilled to own this piece of history, but having Stanley Weston's signature is pretty awesome too.
(NOTE: This directly continues from the last post, and is Part 2 of a long and sordid story.)
THE STORY SO FAR: Last time we examined some of the puffy magnetic Godzilla items that the mysterious nameless company made in the late 1970's, namely the key chains and the "Jumbo" 7-inch magnets. We looked at a hitherto-unforeseen Jumbo magnet, and we also concluded that there were six designs in the key chains, and therefore six Jumbo magnets probably exist (by the way these designs were also found in the various puffy stickers that they made...):
So what is the big deal? Well, as it turns out, this company produced ANOTHER puffy magnetic item in their vast arsenal:
These were the "Combination Magnetic Stickers," meaning they too contained crappy magnets (you remember Top Cat living in prehistoric times with the Flintstones, right?). And as it turns out, they made them for dozens of franchises. Here are just a few:
Just a quick search will reveal: The Pink Panther, Casper and Harveytoons characters, Terrytoons characters, Raggedy Ann & Andy, Mr. Magoo, Dick Tracy, and some sort of cutified little girls called "Honey Funnies," that probably should be left alone. As you can see, they were sold on little cards on spinner racks, the same way their puffy stickers were sold.
Here is what the backs of these items looked like:
There is no artwork on the back, and the "sticker" function was merely a small strip with adhesive underneath...which no doubt stuck better than the magnet, and begs the question of why there even WAS a magnet???!!!
The Godzilla Jumbo Puffy Magnets had blank backs like these, but contained no adhesive strip.
So, what is so exciting about the Godzooky at the top of this post? Surely we have already seen that. Well, take a look at this:
Lo and behold, he's one of them! I am embarrassed to say I have had this for many years, and I bought it in a lot of random Godzilla stuff, long ago. It was just sitting in a display case, on top of some other items. I think I subconsciously thought it was one of those key chains that had broken off, but thank goodness I kept it!
He is also the identical dimensions to the key chains, which is important to note:
So, just when it gets boring around here, there's a new item to discover, and it was there all along. Now we have to turn up a packaged example, so drop me a line if you can, or can provide a photo for the guide.
These were the sorts of disposable things that--especially if they were opened--quickly used up their short lifespans. You can imagine them falling off, and the adhesive instantly getting dirty and full of strange hair...and then your mom threw it away when you weren't looking. That was the 1970's for sure.
Stay tuned, because we have some more Godzilla history coming up shortly that you won't see anywhere else!
A few posts ago, we looked at packaged examples of the Jumbo [7-inch] Puffy Magnets (called "Magnetic Godzilla Character TV & Cartoon Pals," by their nameless manufacturer, of which there were three different ones:
They look like this on the reverse (this will be important in Part 2):
No adhesive strip, just (extremely weak) crappy magnets inside. I already owned a vending machine backing card that contained the Godzooky magnet shown above:
HOWEVER-- I recently acquired another vending machine backing card from the same line, and guess what was prominently featured? A fourth style of jumbo puffy magnet things:
You just KNOW these were all folded up inside the little plastic egg, and were never right after that...
This brought our total up to four different styles. Now, hold that thought, and let's jump back to another product that this company made, the Magnetic Godzilla Key Chains (featured in this post):
These fine products were sold on a hanging store display, and took the weak, ineffective magnet feature from before and added a key chain, which was precariously placed closely to the edge of the plastic puffy design. Not only would it never hold up keys with a magnet, it would also never hold keys, period, or survive being in your pocket. So, a fine engineering job all around. But, I digress...
These puffy designs also had an internal magnet, but were double-sided in their artwork. (This will also be important for Part 2.) So, how many different key chain designs were available? I sat down and studied them, realizing I had double-counted some a long time ago, which were simply just reverse images of what had already been counted. I finally arrived at sixdifferent designs:
...which can all be found facing the opposite way as well One way to keep track is, one side of the keychain is glossy, and the other is a dull finish. These puffy shapes measured approximately 3 & 1/2 by 2 & 1/2 inches.
You will notice that all four of our Jumbo Puffy Magnets' artwork featured above can be found in this group of images. Therefore, I think it's safe to postulate that there are probably six different Jumbo Puffy Magnets to be found as well, like their key chain counterparts. Here are the remaining two styles:
I've never seen loose or packaged examples of these remaining two, but you can bet that I will be on the lookout from this point forward.
Now, if all of this wasn't too confusing or boring, hang on for Part 2, because all of this closer scrutiny made me realize there is another product that this company made, which I had completely left off of our list for years because I wasn't paying attention, and it is probably the very rarest of all of them, hands down. Stay tuned!
Here is a toy that is completely and totally unique in the long history of toy collecting (I am assuming that in prehistory, people hoarded and fought over neat-looking rocks). It is simultaneously the most craptastic and beautiful toy you will see (all at the same time), in a way unlike anything else, from then or now.
Now, before we go any further, get ready for the best 30 seconds you will spend today (especially if you are at work), so don't miss this:
Let's talk about this commercial for a moment--can you imagine the boardroom table discussion? "Just get some banjo music, and list out what this toy does." "But sir, it doesn't even rhyme!" "Nevermind that, we have another 135 commercials to make by lunch!"
There was a whole percentage of kids who saw that commercial--who grew up on farms or in rural areas--who were completely unfazed, and responded with "oh well...is it time for Captain Caveman yet?" While the rest of us viewers went WAIT WHAT JUST HAPPENED? Maybe you went on a field trip in grade school, and maybe you milked a cow once....and maybe not.
Either way, Kenner to the rescue! Finally, a toy would be available to give kids that exact experience, and without having to get up at 3 in the morning to do it. But how to best replicate this activity? You couldn't just fill a plastic cow with actual milk; it would instantly get stinky. (Think about how many plastic lunch box Thermoses you went through as a kid; you could get evil spirits out before you could ever get the milk-rot completely gone. In all of nature, only eggs are more powerful in their unrelenting stench. And...skunks of course, but I'm getting way off track.) The answer came in what Kenner called "milk pills." Unfortunately, I can't tell you their chemical ingredients, but I bet it's calcium something-or-other and some kind of starch or pigment. You literally disconnected the udders and placed a pill inside. When the water passed over it, it released a thin white liquid into the pail, as you saw in the ad.
Pull this. Hey, photographer! Rude!
Then, grab a hold of this...hey! Don't get in a lady's business!
You could even order extra milk pills from Kenner, at the rate of 40 shipped for ONE DOLLAR. (Turns out, they really did care.)
At that point, we have a whole new set of problems, because in the late 70's, you couldn't even give a kid a container of paste (or a jar of Play-Doh) without it going straight into their mouths. Kenner wasted no time, in about 32 places, to tell you not to actually drink the liquid that you ran through Milky. Here is Milky's bucket, for example:
And, it's all over the paperwork we will see shortly, but, you know without even thinking about it what kids did. What I want to know is, did it cause any sickness, injury, or eventual lives of crime? Heck, or even Aqua-Dots-level lawsuits.
They were just as insistent on the front end about the water you use with Milky. Her trough also has a subliminal message:
Once again, you just know that kids experimented with making Milky drink the wrong things. I have no doubt that several poor Milkys sucked up paint, gasoline, or even carbonated water, and then blew up like a super soaker.
Here is what was included with your new friend: a trough to drink from, a pail, and a plastic playmat very similar to what was included with Play-Doh sets of the day (also Kenner).
Put it all together, and she stands majestically, awaiting your cold hands:
Now, let's look at the included paperwork. Here are the instructions, meant for parents:
Simply disconnect the udder, just like a real cow!
The second page is down to business: "IT'S MILKING TIME." Can you even get through this page without laughing?
And yes, I am 12 years old.
The one thing I am not brave enough to do is to try and go through the motions with mine and get it to "moo," being afraid I will break it, but I really want to hear what she sounds like. The instructions say, "If Milky does not moo, shake her gently," also just like a real cow!
But that's not all! Being Kenner, and being the late 70's, a color storybook was included for kids, featuring "Marko and Melissa Milkdrop." (Don't worry, Kenner, Star Wars was coming.) And here it is:
Quoth the Milky, "Mooo!"
"And then we meet our tragic deaths, ARRGGGHHH"
Is there anything more adorable and unabashedly 1970's pureness than that?
Also: still 12 years old.
This is the part where I admit to you that I actually own two of this toy. I have the complete, boxed one, and a loose Milky on top of a display case (although that just sounds wrong, or at least very messy). So, why do I love this toy so much?
I am probably a bit biased.
It's a complicated mix of nostaliga for simpler times, appreciating the absurdity of it as a toy, the braveness and innovation to produce it, and....well, just look at that face: