GI-Joe is NOT a Doll

According to Hasbro (and I agree) - GI-Joe is NOT a doll! He is an action figure. Action, being the definitive term to describe my GI's-Joe. I'm sure that other kids had fun with their nearly 12" plastique friends, but I took my action figures to levels achieved by no other kid.

What Colour is Joe's Parachute?

Joe wasn't afraid of heights. One day he and I had been hiking in Zion National Park... one of his favorite places... and mine. When I got to the top of a particularly high cliff, I began to prepare Joe's parachute, which I had fashioned from a model rocket recovery system. The chute had functioned perfectly in trial jumps. Joe had been practice jumping from the top of my house, the tower at school, and other high places for some time now, and he was ready for the BIG jump. With his parachute prepared, I drew back, and thrust him outward away from the cliff as far as possible. I certainly didn't want him to get tangled and trapped on the face of the cliff on his way down. The chute unfurled, filled with air, and I watched Joe float thousands of vertical feet, swinging back and forth, as he slowly spiraled his way to valley floor. I got on my tummy and peered over the edge of the cliff, sticking my head out as far as possible. I continued to watch until the orange and white striped parachute disappeared from sight. I descended as quickly as possible and searched along the Virgin River in the area I suspected he may have landed, but I never saw my friend again. I hope he found a good home.

Fly Naked Rocket Man

Using Estes Model Rocket Engines, I had had lots of success with an experimental rocket sled I had built for Joe, and now it was time for the next step. To protect Joe's head, I had acquired a white helicopter helmet from another action figure of the same size. The white helmet was smooth and somewhat aerodynamically shaped. Perfect for our experiment. Joe was about to test fly a rocket pack. To prevent his clothes from being burnt by the mighty D 12-3 rocket engine, Joe flew naked on the maiden flight. The engine was secured to his back, with black electrical tape wrapped around his waist. Wearing only black boots and a white helmet, Joe's stance would hopefully send him soaring skyward once the engine ignited. The countdown began: "10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1, ignition!" I pushed the button, and the engine ignited, sending Joe tumbling across the backyard. He finally lodged into the base of a large and foreboding rose bush. Eventually the engine ran out of fuel, and three seconds later the recovery charge blew, leaving the back side of the helmet somewhat melted and charred. Further inspection revealed that Joe's boots were a bit melted and burned, and he had a scar on his right cheek, no doubt from the rose bush.

The Undersea World of GI-Joe

Joe was the deep-sea diver. He wore a brass coloured old-style diving helmet, with a full body suit. Lead weighted boots and belt allowed him to sink, and a tube could be blown into to provide Joe with enough buoyancy to rise from the deep and resurface. He was prepared for the deepest depths. Joe had been down for quite a long time. He was attached to a long hundred foot kite string busily exploring the bottom of Puffer Lake as my friends and I rowed about the surface in a yellow rubber raft. The long tether was secured to the raft for Joe's safety. I wouldn't want him to get lost at the bottom of a deep volcanic lake. When it came time to paddle ashore, I reeled in the long string, only to find that Joe had come untied, and was somewhere at the bottom of the lake. There was no hundred-foot-long tube to inflate his suit, and I never saw Joe again. Later, as the last light of the day faded, we listened to a live radio broadcast as President Richard Milhouse Nixon resigned from office. I was the only kid in my entire fourth grade class who hadn't voted for Nixon when we held our classroom elections. I received ridicule and scorn, but I got the last laugh. I felt vindicated by the news, yet still saddened at the loss of my friend Joe.

Joe of the Jungle

Joe was no stranger to the jungle, or extreme danger. My mother's flower garden in the back yard was the perfect jungle environment for a mine field. For the mines, my brother and I used blasting caps which were wired to a large and heavy plunger located about twenty feet away, around the corner of the house. When Joe stepped on a mine, I pushed down with all my body mass, as the gears in the plunger moved with resistance, and generated enough electricity to detonate the blasting cap under Joe's foot. Joe immediately fell over with a tumble. His hard plastique foot was barely damaged by the blast. Just for fun, we pulled one of his arms out of socket and placed a blasting cap inside his chest cavity. Again, I pushed down the plunger with all the force my small frame could muster. After a loud bang, we inspected Joe to find that jagged edged metal chards protruded out of his body, and his inner rubber band assembly which held his arms in place, had been severed. War is so ugly. 

Astro - NOT!

The Astronaut was probably the coolest GI-Joe of all. He even had a space vehicle fashioned after the Mercury capsule. It came with a little floppy-plastic 45 RPM record of John Glen's historic orbital flight which I played a thousand times. I can still remember Glen's scratchy voice saying, "Roger, the clock is operating, we're under way... a little bumpy along about here." I always dreamed of releasing Joe in his capsule from an orbiting position, ever to fly over the Earth, with a possibility of outlasting all the inhabitants below. I never achieved this dream, but who knows? It may someday be a reality.