1930s Buck Rogers Board Game

Found at a recent toy show, this game board was one of three in a Buck Rogers multi-game boxed set made by Lutz and Sheinkman in 1934. The illustrations are classic vintage Buck, filled with fantastic spacecraft, dazzling futuristic cities, robots, ray guns, villians and heroines.

This game was titled "The Siege of Gigantica;" the other two boards, now missing, were "Cosmic Rocket Wars" and "Search for the Secrets of Atlantis." Finding any of the boards is difficult today, but finding the complete set is a rare feat. Maybe someday...

Toy Show space toy finds. 

1950s Tin Toy Space Port by T. Cohn/Superior/Pyro

Found at a toy show recently in a booth full of vintage space stuff, this tin litho space port was made in the 1950s by T. Cohn (who also made tin litho dollhouses) and released by Pyro, who manufactured the spaceship housed inside.

Toy Show space toy finds.

The space port measures 10 inches long, and features wonderful imagery of helmeted spacemen, rocket ships, flying saucers, fantastic machinery, and futuristic cityscapes:

The spaceship can be launched via a lever at the back of the port. Unfortunately, launching tended to damage the fragile plastic craft, often snapping off its fins, which makes finding the port complete with an intact ship quite a stellar feat. This one is in remarkable shape, and the whole playset is just an out-of-this-world-gorgeous toy.

The Pyro X-300 Space Cruiser

Archer Space Port

One of the greatest space toy lines of all time was created by the Archer Plastics Company of New York in 1952. Founded by a tool and die maker and mechanical engineer named Bob Genin, Archer Plastics designed fantastic space men, rocket cars, and space port playsets that have an Art Deco and Streamline Moderne sensibility about them. While we admire these toys today for their artistic quality, children back in the 1950s simply loved them for the imaginative possibilities they presented.

I've posted before about my Archer Space Men, including a complete set still in its original store counter display box. But the pinnacle of the Archer space toys, its tin litho Space Port from the Outer Space Set, eluded me...until recently. Presenting the finest tin litho space playset ever created, now residing happily on my dining room table after a brutal eBay battle:

The Space Port is made of lithographed tin, and measures 15 inches wide. It includes a control tower with an antenna and radar dish, and originally came boxed with a space car, a handful of space men, and a plastic rocket just like the one depicted on the front panel. The rocket cars and space ships now parked atop the port are not original to this set, but were made in the same time period and are perfectly at home.

There were many tin litho space port playsets produced by various companies in the 1950s, but the Archer set stands out because of its artwork. The Deco and Moderne inspired buildings look architecturally plausible, somehow familiar and yet futuristic. It is the space men populating the port, however, that are really remarkable. Fully realized characters, they have tremendous expression, and appear to be part of a story that the viewer is expected to piece together. All in all, the art creates a great springboard for the imaginations of the children who first saw it over 60 years ago. Let's take a closer look.

Here are some views of the tower, where space traffic controllers appear to be hard at work, directing takeoffs and landings to and from distant worlds.

Looking down at the Space Port from above, you can see into the rocket bay, where mechanics are busily preparing a ship for launch. (You're not really looking "into" anything: this is just a particularly effective illustration on the flat tin surface.)

This panel lifts up, revealing a rocket gantry that the plastic ship could be "launched" from. This is the only moving feature of the playset; the rest is powered purely by imagination.

Since my playset is missing its original Archer rocket (a common state of affairs, as the rockets were invariably taken away for outdoor play, lost off rooftops, etc.) I've added a fleet of space ships made in the 1950s by companies like Premier and Gilmark. These vehicles are fascinating for the way in which their design influences, the futuristic automobiles of the late 1940s and early 1950s, can sometimes be seen. Look closely and you'll see what appears to be the cab of a 1940s sedan melded to side rockets in the blue spaceships, for example.

 

On the Space Port's side panels, workers can be seen laboring at fantastic machinery which keeps the station running.

The man on the ladder at far left appears to have noticed us.
He is looking out from the illustration as if he sees the child at play,
an interesting technique for drawing the viewer into the imaginary world depicted on the panel.

The man on the right has a mischievous expression plainly evident on his face.
Is he a saboteur? Or merely clowning around, to the distress of his partner on the left,
who casts an annoyed glance in his direction?

On the back panel, three space men are having a conversation in front of a large viewing window. Two of the space men appear angry, while the third bows his head in resignation. Perhaps the report he has in his hand (interestingly, on a paper scroll) describes how his department is behind schedule or over budget.

"It's not my fault the project is over budget, sir: talk to Jones here!
He's got the report."

The characters in the Space Port's artwork are clearly modelled on the original Archer space figures. Here, you can see a figure next to his one-dimensional counterpart, wearing the same helmet and suit.

My Archer space figures are pleased to have their port back.

Toy Show Finds

Just got home from one of my favorite vintage toy shows. It's an annual event that happens each January, which really seems like a lousy month for a toy show, coming as it does right after Christmas. This year I planned strategically: when my family asked me what I wanted for Christmas, I said "money for the toy show please!" Here's what I spent it on:

There were all kinds of toy treasures, including a tin litho grocery store playset made in the 1950s by Wolverine; a scarce (and creepy) Hugo, Man of 1,000 Faces from the 1970s; a two-headed Doublenik troll from 1965 along with a tiny vending machine troll; a Weinermobile whistle; a bunch of 1950s space guys; Buck Rogers and Flash Gordon newspaper comics from the 1930s-1940s; a 1960s Batman puzzle; Barbie's original convertible; and a 1950s tin wind-up robot. I'll post properly about them later, but here are some quick pics and sneak peeks.

The robot has some rust, but he also has lots of character.

1950s space guys.

A Doublenik two-headed troll from 1965,
with its gumball prize friend.

Hugo, Man of 1,000 Faces, was a bizarre toy made in the 1970s. It's essentially a creepy looking guy's torso and head, along with a package of "disguise" accessories, including false chins, fake scars and warts, various noses, glasses, an eye patch, and hair pieces. I'm guessing it was inspired by spy films, but who knows. It's weird and now rather rare.

Hugo, Man of 1,000 Faces with some of his original accessory pieces.

Barbie's convertible, made by Irwin in the 1960s, was her first car.

The two shelf units on either side of this tin litho grocery store fold inward to close up the playset. Originally it would also have had a separate counter with accessories like a scale, but these are usually missing. The center span features great imagery of a 1950s supermarket.

The iconic weenie whistle.

The 1930s Buck Rogers newspaper comic above is complete, while the Flash Gordon strips below are only portions (but they feature a fantastic alien giant squiddy monster) :

These two mechanical bears were made in Japan in the 1950s. When wound, the bear on the left turns the pages of his book, while the one on the right wipes his glasses before holding them up to his eyes.

Homemade Robots

Whimsical robots made from old cans, tins, and leftover bits and bobs have become somewhat of a cottage industry lately, and can be found everywhere from Etsy to your local craft show. Here are a few I found recently at a small town art gallery.

The largest robot is 12 1/2 inches tall.

 

 

 

 Mr. Half and Half has a themostat head and arms made from socket wrenches.

 

 

 

The Clock Bot has a vintage alarm clock head and arms made from can openers.

 

 

 

 The tiny T&T robot has a spice box body, a film canister head,

and a clever hat made from a sink strainer.

 

 

They are adorable, and ready to take over the world.

 



Mr. Potato Head on the Moon

The year was 1968. The United States was in the midst of its space race, as engineers and scientists worked feverishly to send the first man to the moon. At the same time, toy designers at Hasbro worked just as feverishly to come up with new ideas for their hit toy line, Mr. Potato Head. The result was Mr. Potato Head on the Moon, a clever set in a gorgeously illustrated box that allowed children "to change fruits and vegetables into spaceships, astronauts, or moon people!"

Inside the box was a huge assortment of pieces unique to this set, including a space helmet; alien feet, antennae, fanged mouths, giant eyes, and various other appendages; and spaceship parts. This set was meant to be used with real fruits and vegetables, and did not include a plastic potato. The instructions suggested using a cucumber for the spaceship, an onion (!) for the alien, and a potato for the astronaut.

Mr. Potato Head on the Moon is now one of the rarest and most valuable of the vintage sets, and was long considered a Holy Grail of sorts for Potato collectors. In a quirky bit of cosmic coincidence, I finally found mine just a few days ago, around the time of the recent Blue Moon!

"That's one small step for potatoes, one giant leap for potato collectors."