In local stores this season, I have had one of those sobering realizations you have when seeing wholesale horror firsthand (i.e. war). Sure, the comparison may seem like a stretch, but picture aisle 11 at Poway’s Wal-Mart on Nov. 22, where I saw two adult shoppers almost reach fisticuffs, jawing about which of their kids deserved the last Superman of the “”Superman Returns”” action-figure line. Yes, that’s war too – when forces not in your control narrow your options so much that only primitive and brutal choices remain.
So since these choices are between being charged with assault, being assaulted yourself or giving up that plastic shit-piece that doesn’t even look like Brandon Routh, wintertime shopping at least dons the battle tenet we call “”do or die.”” Nintendo Wii or die. Armband iPod accessory or die. Tickle Me Elmo or die.
Yes, more zealousness, but the phrase is the foundation of how I will measure commercial clout: The closer a consumer will get to death for a product, the hotter that product must be.
One specimen: Tickle Me Elmo Extreme. I assume the surname is based on this version’s increased range of mobility. This doll stands, falls, rolls over, slaps the floor a couple of times, then gets back up again, all the while uttering his staple caw. Just by showing more joke appreciation, the new Elmo has nestled himself into this season’s animatronic must-haves. A Los Angeles Times article chronicled the original doll’s booming impact on the toy industry, and the likely prospect of TMX doing the same. In the piece, Scott McCall, a Wal-Mart executive, recalled how consumers tore through his whole store’s Elmo supply in 30 minutes.
I was not so lucky. On Nov. 25 at Mission Valley’s Target, flanked by the forces of motherdom on the rubber roundabout of checkout aisle five, was the store’s last Elmo Extreme. What ensued was this era’s version of the Wild West standoff.
Becky, a springy woman in a Puma jumpsuit, is awed that she has even seen the item in person.
“”Oh my God,”” she gasps to the cashier, pointing to the fluffy creature. “”You guys have the new one?””
“”I asked someone already and I got the last one,”” says Trudi, who adds that the toy is for her 5-year-old daughter.
It turns out Becky has a 5-year-old too. The two continue the info session casually, until Trudi says, “”It wiggles its butt too.””
Becky’s eyes narrow.
“”God, my kid would love that.””
Silence, then the tumbleweed. While nothing is said, I can see the two measuring how much flesh they would cut for a Sesame Street booty-shake.
“”A hundred bucks,”” says Becky.
Trudi stays quiet, though I’m not sure if she’s a sly negotiator, or just baffled at the concept of betraying her child.
“”Okay, $115, c’mon now,”” Becky continues.
“”You shouldn’t do this here,”” pleads the teenage cashier.
Trudi ended up selling the doll to Becky for $115 in Target’s parking lot. Both women – who declined to give their full names because they realized that they looked like they were “”acting a fool”” – were happy with the deal.
But how close to danger would Trudi or Becky have been willing to go?
“”It’s a teddy bear with a motor,”” says Becky. “”I ain’t going to fight for it.””
“”Yeah,”” repeats Trudi. “”No reward in fighting for a motorized teddy bear.””
OK, so no kill-order needed for Elmo, just a relatively obscene amount of cash and the will to wreck a kid’s Christmas.
But someone has to be willing to kill/die for next-generation video game consoles, and I found one of these schmucks at Mira Mesa’s Best Buy on Nov. 21. Playing a demonstration version of Nintendo Wii, I had a few self-revelations.
For one, I will never look good trying to move like a 250-pound boxer. Also, I’ll never face another 250-pound boxer in the ring. Third, the Wii lets me do those things.
“”Man, fucking hurry up,”” says the kid behind me.
The tween huffs like he’s in the throes of asthma, or he’s trying to intimidate me. He probably just figured out masturbation, having recently graduated from nose-picking, so I stop short of wringing his stringy torso. I leave the store without killing the twerp. That’s my holiday spirit. Plus, I don’t want to put the Wii on the hot list.
