Pre-Production Space Trooper (Yoshiya/1959/Japan/6 inches)

Most collectors have "holy grails." You know, the pieces we dream about even though the odds say we'll never, ever, ever get our hands on them. The ones that keep us away long into the night, dreaming impossible dreams of glory through astonishing acquisition.

Well... This robot's one of mine. And right now, it's sitting on my desk in front of me.



You're looking at a Pre-Production Sample of a Robby the Robot knock off called the Space Trooper. It was made by Yoshiya way back in 1959.

As toys go, your basic Space Trooper isn't terribly complicated. Turning the crank engages a flywheel system, which causes the robot to roll forward while the multiple antennas in its head rotate in different directions. The wheels in its feet are off-center, which makes the robot wobble side-to-side as it rolls. It's simple, it's primitive, and frankly, I think it's completely awesome!

As I said, this is a Pre-Production Sample. I know, I know: "Doc, what the heck is a Pre-Production Sample?" Gather 'round, kids, and I'll tell ya!

Pre-Production Samples were one of the last stages in toy production before achieving a finished product. They were used by the toy companies for catalogue photos, as salesman's samples, and as display pieces at industry events like Toy Fair in New York City. They share most of the traits of a final production toy -- the one that ends up on toy store shelves -- but they also differ in many significant ways.

In the case of the Space Trooper, there are four major differences.

1. COLOR
The production models of the Space Trooper only came in red or black. A similar toy by Yoshiya that replaces the robot dome with an astronaut's head was also sold in dark blue. The Pre-Production Sample is a classy silver with black and red accents.

The few sightings we've uncovered in toy catalogues from 1959 all show this silver version. In fact, Pre-Production Samples of other toys have shown up over the years and they're also silver, as are the catalogue photos for these other toys. It makes me think it might be some sort of industry standard thing; perhaps this color scheme works better when rendered as a high-contrast, black and white catalogue image. There's no conclusive evidence that the colors were chosen for this reason, though -- I'm only thinking out loud.



2. MECHANISM
As I mentioned earlier, Space Troopers feature off-center, reciprocating wheels. The silver Pre-Production Sample, however, has wheels with a centered axle. They roll normally. The wheels are also larger than those found on a production toy. This is really one of the most important differences between the two versions as it illustrates a major development of the toy from one stage to the next. It shows Yoshiya attempting to inject more play value into the toy -- but in the cheapest way possible. I'll tell you what, though. Those wobbly wheels on the final version are definitely pretty neat! Good job, Yoshiya!




3. BODY STAMPING
Given how rare all Pre-Production Samples are, they were most likely done in small batches. Remember, these weren't meant to reach the public so the toy companies didn't need nearly as many pieces. It's likely that they were also not held to the same level of quality control. See, while all tin toys have wrinkles in the metal around the more complex folds, they're much more prominent on this early version of the toy. Also, the smooth, rounded parts have a little bit of unevenness to them that you don't see on the final, production robots.

Basically, Yoshiya spit out these samples so they could have something to show off the toy. Production lead-times being what they were, there was ample opportunity to clean up and refine the manufacturing process before shipping out the robots.



4. CHROME
The strip of chrome running up the side of the toy is supposed to fit tightly, conforming to the robot's curves. The strip of chrome on the pre-production sample looks like it was assembled by a blind monkey. It's kind of a mess. But as I've argued in the past, that's a big part of the charm of pre-production toys and prototypes. These aren't perfect, and they should look a little rough around the edges. Pre-Production should look like Pre-Production!






There are only two or three known examples of the Pre-Production Space Trooper. Or so I've been told -- I'm sure some others are floating around... maybe.

But this particular Space Trooper is very important to me. See, I helped uncover it many years ago. A woman from Kansas had listed it on eBay back in 2004, and found herself inundated with questions from potential buyers demanding to know why it was silver. She quickly realized she was out of her depth, so she did some checking online and ended up finding my old web site. She sent me an email asking for help.

Of course, I had no idea what it was, either. But I did some digging and discovered that there was -- at the time -- only one or two other silver Space Troopers, and that they all might be a Pre-Production pieces. Whatever it was, it was valuable. Valuable enough that I couldn't come close to affording it.

However, I was able to hook the woman up with a friend of mine named Pat Karris. Pat had, at the time, the world's most complete Forbidden Planet/Robby the Robot collection. However, he didn't have this piece. Happily, Pat and the seller were able to work out a deal and the robot ended up on his shelf.

I was there the day he got it in the mail, and when I finally saw the toy up close, I fell desperately in love. I wanted one -- badly. But I knew it wouldn't happen. However, I consoled myself by remembering that Pat lived in NYC, which meant I could have visitation rights.

Fast forward a number of years. Pat decided to sell off a bunch of his robots (for a variety of reasons) and they ended up going to a man named Al Rosen. Rosen made a name for himself buying and selling baseball cards, and he's a legend in that hobby. When he caught the robot and space toy bug, he pursued the toys with the same passion -- and deep pockets. Soon, he had nearly everything. Every. Thing.

And then he decided to get out. His toys were auctioned off about a year-and-a-half ago by Smith House Toys in a two-part auction that I can't even talk about without my head exploding.

And yes, this little Space Trooper was on the block with everything else.

And no, I couldn't afford to buy it at the time.

But another friend of mine, Steve Jaspen, was able to snag it. He lives in New York, too, and it was nice having the robot "come home." Besides, my visitation rights were restored.

And then, about a week or two ago, I got a call from Steve. It turned out he had decided to sell this robot. He knew my history with the toy and wanted to offer it to me first. We discussed the price a bit, did a little back and forth, and then let the dust settle. "So," he asked. "Do you want it?"

Dumbest. Question. Ever. Just tell me where to send the check.

So here we are, one more Holy Grail crossed off the list. I've waited a loooooong time for this one. I never thought it'd shake lose, and now that it has, I feel like it's come full circle. I'm a very, very happy camper.

Wind Up Venus Robot (Yoshiya / 1969 / Japan / 5.5 inches)

The Venus Robot isn't the most complicated robot ever made, but this diminutive little guy is still a favorite of mine.



The bright, solid color; the simple lines; the small bursts of graphics -- Venus Robot really is as much a design object as it is a toy. It's made of plastic with lithographed tin accents, and features a simple, key-wind walking mechanism.

One nice touch: Venus Robot uses a foot construction that creates an illusion of a heal-toe walking motion. The ratchet wheel system actually shuffles forward and back -- like that of many other robots -- but as it does so, it see-saws on a central axis inside the leg/foot housing. It's a great effect, one that's seen on other plastic Yoshiya robots (like the Battery Operated Jupiter Robot, which I wrote about here), as well as Nomura's Piston Action Robot (which can be found here).

Venus Robot was also available in the more common battery operated version, which featured a blue body with red arms and face. (I'll write about it somewhere down the road.) A company called Telsalda also produced wind up versions in silver, gold, and red. These are all significantly rarer than the original. (I'll write about these if I can ever manage to snag them. Grumble, grumble, grumble...)

The box for the wind up Venus Robot is much less common than that of the battery operated version. I've got no idea why.

I bought my Venus Robot from a dealer named Jay Brotter. No real story behind it, but I want to give a shout out to Jay because he's a great dealer and a heck of a nice guy. He runs a web site called Robot Island, and I've never had any complaints when dealing with him.

I'll admit, Venus Robot took a while to grow on me -- as did all of the Yoshiya plastics. I didn't like the plastic construction, I didn't like the red and black color scheme, I didn't like the tiny size. Now of course, those are all reasons I love the toy.

I'm always fascinated by the way my tastes in toy robots have developed over the years. I'd say at least 25% of my collection is made up of toys I actively disliked when I first started collecting. I'm not exactly sure what caused my tastes to broaden; I know that exposure to other people's collections certainly helped. I think that time played a big role, too -- if you see a toy enough times, you start to gain an appreciation for it, quirks and all.

The upshot, anyway, is that the amount of toys I wanted to own eventually doubled -- tripled? -- guaranteeing that I'll be collecting robots for a long, long time.

Sweet!

Battery Operated Planet Robot (Yoshiya / 1958 / Japan / 9 inches)

The Planet Robot is another example in a long line of toys that draw upon Forbidden Planet's Robby the Robot for inspiration.



Forbidden Planet landed in theaters in 1956, a $2 million science-fiction adventure story that combined wonderful characters, thrilling action, a mysterious plot, lavish sets and props, and, of course, a robot that would go on to influence all future Hollywood robots, droids, and other assorted mechanical men: Robby.

In a pre-Star Wars world, toy licensing for films was relatively unheard of, and MGM, the film's studio, never bothered to produce any space ships, ray guns, action figures, or robots of their own. Happily for us, though, many companies rushed in to fill the void. They did so carefully, of course, in an effort to avoid a barrage of law suits. As a result, we have many different toy robots from the Fifties and Sixties that look a whole lot like Robby, but with many interesting tweaks that give each piece a distinct personality. (For some great examples, check out these past posts: Mechanized Robot, Piston Action Robot, Door Robot, Jupiter Robot, and this one on cinematic robots. Also check out Pat Karris' amazing collection of vintage Robby toys at mechanizedrobot.com.)

In action, the battery operated Planet Robot walks forward while its chest and face light up. At the same time, the vertical scanner ring on the left side of its dome rotates. All in all, not the most complex action ever created, but that doesn't make it any less cool to play with.




What's always most attracted me to this toy is the metallic blue litho. I've said it before and I'll keep on saying it until someone inscribes it in the Big Book of Truth: Metallic blue is the coolest color ever, and looks great on not only toy robots, but also ray guns, rockets, space cars, houses, and grandma's hair.



The Planet Robot is one of the longest -- maybe the longest -- produced robots in the hobby. Evidence suggests that it was on the shelves in one form or another from 1958 through at least 1972 -- and probably longer than that. Of course, it mutated quite a bit during that time, and as such, you can build entire sub collections of just Planet Robots.

Besides the version of the battery operated Planet featured in this post, there's also one with rubber, three-fingered hands that more closely mirror the hands on the original Robby the Robot. As far as we know, the toy was only available in blue.

The Planet Robot was also made with a wind up mechanism that features sparks in its chest and face plate. The wind up Planet Robot was offered with both rubber and tin hands. It came in a variety of colors, including black (most common), olive green, and blue (very rare). There might be a few others -- it's hard to keep track.

But the variations don't end there. Later versions of the wind up Planet Robot saw the introduction of slightly thinner legs, smaller "ear caps" and scanner rings, and flatter face grills. These differences are often rather subtle, and can sometimes only really be seen when two different versions of the toy are posed side by side. However, at the very end of it's run, the Planet Robot underwent one more significant transformation, as Yoshiya introduced a plastic head and plastic hands.

This later version was quite common for a while; rumors suggested that a warehouse full of the toys was discovered somewhere. I do know that at least one antique toy store in NYC -- now no longer with us -- was selling them mint-in-box well into the late Seventies. Regardless, the supply has dried up considerably, making even this last iteration of the Planet Robot kind of tricky to come by.

This Planet Robot is particularly important to me. I first saw it when I visited Steve Jaspen's collection early on in my own collecting career. Steve was the first collector to ever invite me to his house to see his toys; he's the first vintage space toy collector I'd ever met face to face. We've been friends ever since, and in the ensuing years, I've learned so much about the hobby from the man. I definitely consider him a mentor within the scene.

Steve's the kind of collector who is endlessly refining and focusing his collection; he doesn't have the most toys on the block, but he's definitely got some of the best. He's always selling or trading a piece here and a piece there, and the day that I visited him, one of the toys slated for eviction from his shelves was the battery operated Planet Robot. I was definitely interested in it, but Steve, being the nice guy that he is, actually turned me off of the sale. "You don't want this one. I bought it at the height of the market and I'm trying to get a lot for it. You can definitely find one for less money." Fair enough, and I dropped the subject.

A few months later I get an email. It's Steve, and he's reconsidered the Planet Robot sale. "It's never going to get what I originally paid for it, so if I have to let it go for cheap, I'd rather have it end up in your collection." About a week later, on a chilly, blustery day, I met Steve outside his Midtown office. It must have looked like some weird drug deal going down -- me handing him a thick wad of cash, him handing off a strangely wrapped package. But no one called the cops, and a little while later the robot was on my shelf.

That's why this is an important one for me. Not just because it's a robot I always loved, and not just because it came from the collection of a good friend. No, this toy's important to me because of what it represents. This hobby can be so cutthroat. I've seen collectors smile at each other while wheeling and dealing behind the scenes to screw each other out of toys. I've seen friendships dissolve over fights for toys. I've seen scams and I've seen what can only be described as outright criminality. All because of toys. Toys!

But at the same time, I've seen spectacular generosity. I've watched people step aside at auctions so that friends can get a toy they've always wanted. I've seen collectors lend each other extraordinary amounts of money so an important deal won't fall through. I've seen dealers sell toys to friends for zero profit. I've watched collectors give toys to other collectors because their friendships were so strong.

And that's the spirit behind my battery operated Planet Robot. It represents the friendship and camaraderie within the hobby -- friendships that, I hope, will last as long as the toys themselves.

Battery Operated High-Wheel Robot (Yoshiya / Japan / 1964 / 8.5 inches)

This is one of those toys that just has so much going for it. Not only does the High-Wheel robot look fantastic, but it's got the kind of simple, engaging action that demonstrates exactly why these toys are so much fun.

What first attracted me to the High-Wheel robot was its explosion of color. The translucent green face -- nearly neon -- and the bright, metallic-blue body scream for attention. I love the window on its chest, and those gears -- they're just so darn whimsical. Robots like the High-Wheel really straddle the line between toys and pop art.

Like I said, the action's pretty simple, but that's part of the charm. While walking forward, the toy's head and chest light up while the gears spin and make a kind of whirring, clacking noise. The light also illuminates the toy's actual gears, turning the internal mechanism into part of the show. It's a lot of play value for such a basic, straight-forward robot. It's also kind of meta, if you think about it.

The High-Wheel was also available in two wind up variations (I'll write more about them later). Both are black, and one features six gears while the other has four. The rule of thumb says that the more complicated version of a toy usually appears first, meaning that the battery operated High-Wheel probably came out before his simpler cousins. Adding to the evidence: The battery operated High-Wheel has six gears, and the six-gear version of the wind up was released in 1964, while the four-gear version came out in 1967. From a (de)evolutionary perspective, it makes more sense that the two six-gear toys are most closely related, and it's unlikely that Yoshiya produced the wind up version, then the battery operated version, and then the four-gear wind up.

That said, I've yet to see evidence for a hard and fast date, so if anyone has any catalogue sightings for the battery operated High-Wheel, let me know!

I was still new to the hobby when I fell for this toy. I was in Elk, Washington, visiting John Rigg's massive toy robot collection, dubbed The Robot Hut. I'd been sent to Seattle on assignment, and realized that I had time to make the small detour. It was also an opportunity to meet, for the first time, an online collecting friend named Donald Conner. All in all, a great adventure for a toy robot newbie like myself.

John's place is, for all intents and purposes, kind of in the middle of nowhere. And by nowhere, I mean that it's on a farm, surrounded by other farms, which are surrounded in turn by some of the most beautiful forests and mountains I've ever seen. It seems that nowhere is actually a pretty amazing kind of place, even for a city boy like myself. So before I even saw the robots, I was feeling pretty good.

There are no words to describe how I felt inside the Robot Hut itself. Thousands of toys, all meticulously displayed. Life size models of famous cinematic robots, and prop replicas from some of the best science fiction movies of all time. Pinball games. Robotic orchestras. A life-size "Robby Jeep" from the movie Forbidden Planet. My eyes were wide, my brain was frozen. It was great!

Despite all the rare and amazing robots, it was the weird little High-Wheel that really lodged itself in my brain. There are other toys I like more, but let's face it, I'm never going to own most of them. I knew the High-Wheel was a robot I could add it to my "Want List" with the anticipation of actually checking it off.

Fast forward a couple months. I'd become friends with a collector and dealer named Justin Pinchot (often mentioned in this blog). One day, he gave me a call and as we chatted, we came around to the question that always comes up: Are you looking for anything particular?

I told him about the High-Wheel, and also bitched a bit that I couldn't seem to find one in good shape. It's not a rare toy, but I just wasn't having any luck. You can imagine my surprise, then, when Justin suddenly says to me, "Oh yeah? I've got one of those for sale. I'll send you some pics."

Justin is the master of having whatever it is you're looking for. Seriously, it's downright uncanny.

Anyway, Justin sent me the pics and I was amazed at how clean the toy was. I immediately told him I'd take it, and since then, it's been a favorite part of my collection.

Atom Robot (Yoshiya / 1964 / Japan / 6.5 inches)

Digging way back into the early days of my collection again for this next entry. Atom Robot was either the second or third robot I ever purchased; it's a little tough to tell, because I won my first three vintage robots on the same day, and this was either the second or third to show up in the mail.

I love this toy. I remember when I first saw it on eBay. I didn't really have any great robot books at the time, and didn't know much about it. I agonized for a few days, unsure about whether or not I wanted to risk my limited funds on it. Like I said, two other robots had caught my eye, one of which was very much a first-love kind of piece. But something about the Atom Robot kept calling my name... Then a large freelance check rolled in and suddenly I decided to do something rash: Bid on all three toys! It's a story I've told before: See here and here. Spoiler alert: I won all three.

It's the smallest of the skirted robots, but apparently, no one told its designers because they crammed in enough intricate lithography to fill a robot twice its size. Front, back, sides -- beautiful graphics are everywhere.

Perhaps even more impressive are all the details stamped into the tin itself. Japanese craftsman -- masters in their field -- managed to give Atom Robot complex angles and raised rivets all over its body. Getting that sharp an impression from that small a piece of tin without distortion -- or ruining the litho, which was laid down prior to stamping -- is mind boggling.

So many of the lithoed details are also stamped into the toy's tin.

As if that weren't enough, the toy designers took the time to add separate pieces of trim, those neat ear pieces, textured arms, and that amazing face -- which features a separate nose/mouth plate and those reflective greenish-yellow eyes. Expressive!

The robot's "ears" are part of the head trim.

All the details on the arms are raised as well as lithographed!

Note all the different components that make up the face and head. I particularly like the reflective elements in the eyes.

For all the complex details, the Atom Robot is a surprisingly simple toy. It features fly-wheel powered bump-and-go action that's powered by a small crank. The arms swing freely as he rolls around.

The Atom Robot isn't rare, making it a fairly easy and relatively inexpensive toy for collectors to add to their shelves. It can be found in three versions: Green eyes, red eyes, and red eyes/red litho mouth. Personally, I like the green eyed version the best -- the color really pops amidst all the red litho.

This toy has followed me for many years and through many moves. Since getting it, my collection has grown considerably, and some mighty rare and impressive 'bots have joined it on my shelves. But to this day, it's still a robot that draws my eye and makes me smile.

Battery Operated Jupiter Robot (Yoshiya / 1965 / Japan / 6.5 inches)

Toy manufacturers got a lot of mileage out of Robby the Robot, using the Forbidden Planet star as the basis for numerous designs. One of my favorites is the Jupiter Robot.

I came to this toy rather late in my collecting career; for some reason, I never really liked it when I first began exploring the world of robots. Maybe it was the plastic construction -- I remember being sort of snobby about tin in those days. Ah, youth. 

But the more familiar I became with these old toys, the more I came to appreciate the quirky, colorful qualities that define Jupiter Robot. My immersion in the world of ray guns certainly helped. Most of them are plastic, brightly hued, and whimsically designed. My horizons had expanded, and when I finally did fall for the Jupiter, I fell hard. 

And what's not to love about the little guy? Jupiter Robot is a great shade of blue -- I'm an absolute sucker for blue -- and it's got a fantastic action with spinning chest gears and a light-up face. 

This lithographed panel appears on Jupiter Robot's back, opposite the gears in his chest.

Jupiter also has a wonderful, uncommon walking mechanism. You'll notice that the feet are molded directly into the legs. Inside of each foot is a set of pivoting rollers. As the legs swing forward and back, the feet appear to move heel-toe, heel-toe, heel-toe, in a (somewhat) realistic manner. At the same time, the rollers rock to stay firmly planted on the ground and prevent the toy from toppling over. Genius!

Though actually... the walking mechanism was swiped from the company Nomura, who used it on an earlier toy (also based on Robby, coincidentally enough) called Piston Robot (and known colloquially as Pug Robby). In fact, Jupiter actually shares the traits of yet another Robby-style robot: the face grill, which is similar to one originally used on another Yoshiya toy, Planet Robot (1958). Despite these similarities, though, there's no way to mistake Jupiter for either the Piston or Planet robots, a testimony to the old toy designers' talents and skill. 

Jupiter is a fairly uncommon robot. It does has a much more common, wind-up cousin, which is available in red with black arms. (I'll be writing much more about the wind-up version, since mine has a very cool, personal story attached to it. However, it'll have to wait for another day and another post.)

Note the toy's single-button battery box.

Interesting final note: My example of the Jupiter Robot happens to have been purchased from author Alan Bunkum, who featured a photo of it in his book Techno Fantasies: Toy Robots From Japan (Schiffer Publishing, 2005). Thankfully, Jupiter hasn't let the fame go to his head. He's the same little blue robot that first stepped off the boat after a long trip to the States from Japan. 

Top-Shelf Titans: The Steve Jaspen Interview

Every Sunday, I'll sit down with other addicts collectors to take a look at their toys and discuss the hobby of toy collecting. This week: Steve Jaspen is our Top-Shelf Titan!

Steve Jaspen has collected space toys for more than a decade, and there are very few people who know more about them than he does. His collection of vintage wind-up robots and small-scale saucers, rockets and space cars is a wonder; not because it's huge, but, rather, because every piece in it is a bona fide treasure. Steve also happens to be one of the nicest guys in the hobby, and I consider him not only a good friend, but an honest-to-goodness mentor. So now that I've abandoned even a pretense of journalistic objectivity, let's get to the toys!

DOC ATOMIC What attracts you to these toys?  

STEVE JASPEN I like the feelings they evoke in me. It's very close to how I felt when watching the early space launches in the Sixties. The same feelings I have reading sci-fi novels. They represent something so much grander than we see, for the most part, in our everyday existence. A representation of the potential we have that we haven't quite reached yet.

Do you have a favorite piece in your collection? 

That's difficult. Certainly, my Television Robot (Sankei, 1960s) is high on the list. It's got a perfect look: fantastic lithography, and a face reminiscent of a little boy -- a robot almost becoming human. I love my early, blue, wind-up Planet Robots (Yoshiya, late 1950s). They are rare and beautiful, and their "grilled" faceplates look to me how a robot should look. Also my Mechanical Moon Robot (Yonezawa, 1960s) -- the multicolored ribbons within its domed, mirrored head are fantastic.

The Television Robot. One of the rarest toy robots. (All photos by Steve Jaspen)

Some of Jaspen's collection. The Mechanical Moon Robot (a.k.a. "Ribbon Robby) is on the right, in back. The ribbons in its dome spin as it walks.

When did you start collecting? How did you become involved with space toys?

I was heavily involved in sports memorabilia, but it reached a point where I had collected or seen just about everything in the field -- it was time to move on. The famous Sotheby's robot and space toy auction of Matt Wyse in 1996 showed me that this was an actual hobby. I had known about the famous Japanese collector Teruhisa Kitahara (whom I later had the pleasure of meeting), but until then I thought collecting these toys was only one man's obsession. With my sci-fi backround and love of robots this was a perfect hobby to move to from sports collecting. From that moment on it was off to the races.

One of Steve's rare blue Planet Robots is on the left. The grey skirted robot second from right is called Tremendous Mike -- it's another extremely rare toy. The robot to the far right is a modern piece hand-crafted by the late collector Henk Gosses.

Some of Jaspen's impressive saucer and rocket collection.

After looking at your collection, Steve, I was struck by your focus. Could you describe your approach to collecting?  

I purchase the pieces that really move me. When I'm looking at a book of robots and space toys, which are the ones I keep coming back to or most enjoy seeing? Not only do I focus on particular toys, but I quite often focus on a specific example of that piece -- literally one specific toy that I've seen somewhere. One collector I know calls it a "wanted dead or alive" style of collecting. In the world of sports memorabilia, many items were one of a kind, so I learned how to follow a specific piece from collection to collection until it became available. I use this skill in this hobby, too. 

Can you give us an example?

Sure. The silver-mouthed Hook Robot (Waco, 1950s) was high on my list from the moment I first saw him. A perfect example was offered by [long-time toy dealer] Mark Bergin in his 1998 catalog. By the time I called him, he'd already sold it. By chance I was able to find out who the buyer was, but he was a very high-end collector and no amount of money or trades could be offered to get the Hook out of his collection. But eventually, as so often happens, he decided to sell off his collection. I was able to figure out who ended up with the Hook. I had a very high-end piece in my collection that the new owner wanted. Applying my trading philosophy of giving up something great to obtain something that would give me even more happiness, a trade was born. I now own the one and very same example of the Hook Robot that I first saw in  Mark Bergin's catalog. It only took me 10 years to get the one I wanted! 

Any other instances of this happening?

Of course! There's a wonderful book called Roboter by Botho Wagner. Pictured on the cover is an amazing Planet Robot -- a blue, wind-up, rubber-handed version. Just beautiful. Well, I found out the hard way that this toy was so rare that not even well-known dealers had ever seen one -- or even heard of it. It turned out that this toy was probably not exported to this side of the ocean. 

I would just stare at this picture every day and wonder, "How am I going to get one of these for myself?" Wouldn't you know it: By sheer coincidence I had become close friends with a European collector... the very same collector who owned the exact robot used on the cover of the book! He knew of my deep love for this robot and one day, out of the blue (no pun intended), he offered it to me. So not only did I get my dream robot, but I got the exact example of the one I had been looking at all these many years. A dream come true!

Ladies and Gentlemen: The famous blue Planet Robot and silver-mouthed Hook Robot.

The Hook Robot next to an uncommon pin-walking robot called Robbie The Roving Robot. The blue robot on the right is the extremely rare X-27 Explorer. Note the VX-1000 space ship, another highly desirable toy.

You mentioned before that you traded a high-end piece to get the Hook Robot. Can you talk a bit more about this technique?

There are pieces [that I want] that are very hard to come by and are in the hands of deep pocketed collectors; one can't simply offer money to this class of collector. However, if I can get the piece I want by offering something special that they want, then a trade is possible. It's really about putting these toys on a scale of happiness; if what I am getting gives me more satisfaction than what I am giving up, it's an exchange I can seriously consider. I may not be able to keep every toy I've owned, but at least I've had the opportunity to have a sweet taste of many different great toys. 

A strong word of caution: It's too easy to get so excited about being able to obtain a sought-after new item that you don't carefully consider what you're giving up. You might discover that you liked what you traded more than what you received: I learned this the very hard way in my sports collecting days! My advice is to carefully consider each trade or sale. Sometimes the best deals are the ones that aren't made.

 

Sound advice! So, do you have any other interesting collecting stories?

There is one piece [from my collection] that is the center of a very good story. The Robot 5 (S.N.K./Sankei, 1950s) is a very high-end piece I never really expected to own. A dealer offered me a Robot 5 in his original box for quite a bit more than I could afford. Without even looking at a picture, I had to turn him down. A friend of mine was offered the robot, and he called to ask me what I thought of it. I told him I hadn't seen a picture, so he sent me one. Oh, my God! First off, it was a version I didn't at the time know existed -- a black and grey version as opposed to the better known champagne-pink one. It was really a perfect robot, and my friend decided to buy it. I was quite sad about that. 

By sheer coincidence, just as my friend closed the deal on the boxed grey-black version, he was offered the pink version, which he preferred. But it was unboxed. He asked for my advice -- he wanted the pink version but he also wanted the box. I had the perfect solution: We would split the boxed black-grey version. I would get the robot and he would get the box. Then he could buy the pink version to pair with it. So I ended up with the robot, he ended up with a boxed robot. All's well that ends well. 

Three fantastic robots: The extremely rare Robot 5, flanked by the red-mouthed Hook Robot and the Television Robot.

I'll say! So, do you have any advice for new collectors? Any parting words of wisdom?  

Here is my advice to new collectors: First off, knowledge is power. Find out as much about the hobby as you can. There are any number of excellent websites, books and catalogs to review. See which pieces "sing" to you and save money for the ones that you can reasonably afford. No impulse or quick-fix buying; save for those pieces that are most important to you. In the long run they will give you the most satisfaction. And use your own judgement as to what you like and do not like. After all it is your own collection that you are building!

Sparky Robot (Yoshiya / 1957 / Japan / 7 inches)

Many Japanese tin robot were like canvases for some astonishingly creative lithography. Diminutive Sparky was by far one of the most ornate. Somehow, artists found a way to cram a ridiculous amount of detail in this great, six-and-a-half-inch robot.

The mechanical graphics are striking, like something Wally Wood might have concocted for Weird Science. But what really grabs my attention is the subtle shading on the lithoed "panels"; very few toys display this level of detail, and one of the few that does costs just about $10,000. Considering that Sparky costs a mere fraction of a fraction of that, you definitely get a lot of artistic bang for you buck. 

I particularly like Sparky's face, which looks like a mask. It has a dehumanizing effect on the toy, which I think might have been the exact opposite of what his designers were hoping to achieve. But the haunting, blank expression gives the toy a lot of impact.

While Sparky Robot looked like a million bucks, he relies on a basic, wind-up walking mechanism that causes his legs to move back and forth while sparks fire off behind red gels in his eyes. His antenna acts as an on/off switch -- a nice touch, actually. 

Sparky was available in a number of different color and litho variations: Blue with two types of graphics; silver with two types of graphics; two different khaki-greenish-goldish versions; and an unlithoed silver version. The plain silver toy is the most common; mine is rarer than the other lithographed silver version, and perhaps one of the khaki-greenish-goldish toys. But the rest are really rare, and often sell for a lot of money. I know it's a bit confusing, but if you quickly sketch yourself a little chart, it'll all make sense.

It's funny, I never liked Sparky. I was only familiar with the two more common versions of the toy, and for whatever reason, they didn't get the oil pumping through my tubes. But when mine appeared on eBay and I saw the incredible details, I just fell for it.

Coincidentally, on the day the auction ended, I was editing a very short documentary about toy robots for a grad school class. My partners suggested filming me as I put in my bid and (hopefully) won the toy. But no, I couldn't do it. I've a hard and fast rule in journalism that I never appear in my own stories as anything other than a reporter. Sadly, my friends never got the shot they wanted.

I, on the other hand, did get the toy. So it worked out just fine for me.