Ad Nauseam: Star Wars Insider #38

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The mid-nineties represented a reawakening for the Star Wars brand. The trilogy was remastered and released into theaters to coincide with a home video release. Accompanying that, of course, were waves of marketing that made the original release blush. With enough new merchandise to pack a Deathstar and the flannel draped galaxy-master himself, George Lucas, announcing a new film in the works, Star Wars had, once again, eclipsed popular culture. 

But this wasn’t just some lazy modern nostalgic cash-grab as it was a way to introduce a new generation to the galaxy far, far away…and recapture the imagination and magic Star Wars brought nearly 20 years prior. 

Star Wars was indeed special. A personal realization by experiencing this era firsthand. It was the first time my “newfound” interests were not only encouraged by adults…but shared with them. A time where I thought toys, video games, and comic books were solely for kids…yet shown that Star Wars was for everyone. Afterall, these adults were my age back in 1977. They were doing what I do now: reliving a simpler time through recaptured interests. 

What we’re covering today was just a morsel of that 90’s Star Wars-Mania. I was slapped with a stack of Star Wars magazines lovingly shared by my best bud Eric. The intention? To see what overpriced plastic was being peddled to our small feeble minds a long time ago from a galaxy far, far away. And like a Gungan at a Tatooine marketplace, I had to stick my tongue where it didn’t belong. 

Star Wars Insider is the official Star Wars magazine that grew out of the official newsletter in 1987. The title changed from the Lucasfilm Fan Club Magazine to Star Wars Insider in 1994. It’s still going till this day, with well over 200 issues at the time of this writing, which truly exemplifies the power of the force that is Star Wars. Though modern issues traded that prideful energy, respectful cadence, and welcoming fan interaction for something sterile, lacking depth, and more expensive. A true representation of not just modern Star Wars, but entertainment as a whole. 

Star Wars Insider #38 June/July 1998

Besides the alluring Simpsons crossover cover, this specific issue had a Star Wars catalog of nearly everything available shoved right in the middle of it. My eyes were filled with the heavy nostalgic steam of carbonite emissions. A gathering of merchandise similar to a smattering of cantina patrons: Strange, goofy, endearing and kind of slimy. So lets jump to lightspeed and head back to a time when Star Wars was only a trilogy, heroes were heroes, and special effects were practical. When Star War’s only travesty was George Lucas’s poor judgment. 

Technically, this is where the fun begins

C-3PO Ceramic Cookie Jar

With our first highlight I’d like to state something: Any product that exists in our world…there is a Star Wars version of it. If there are chopsticks, there are Star Wars chopsticks. If there are window drapes, there are Star Wars window drapes. If there are cookie jars, there are Star Wars cookie jars (rightfully so). 

Novelty cookie jars peaked in the 1990s for whatever reason. If you had truly broken into pop culture, getting your own cookie jar was akin to getting your own trading card series or Spaghetti-O shape. You made it, man. I can’t recall a single Na-Na being hip enough to actually own a Batman, Looney Tunes, or Star Wars cookie jar. But, hey, the crossover appeal was there. And you can’t blame them for that. 

For a mere $275 + $14.95 shipping and handling you could be the proud owner of this 16 inch tall cookie jar of everyone’s favorite uptight worrisome british droid, golden-rod himself, C-3PO. Human Cyborg Relations? NOT ANYMORE, Bantha brain. Add Human Cookie Relations to the ‘ol droid resume now, Threepio. This ad boasts (3 times in fact) that this is the BEST likeness of C-3PO EVER MADE. Not only does it look like he stepped right out of the sands of Tatooine and into your kitchen, but he’s full of delicious cookies FINALLY. 

My search results on eBay show I can claim this collectable for about half the price offered here. Which, $300 for a cookie jar is pretty steep. With inflation…that comes out to $538. I’m pretty sure I can get Anthony Daniels to bake cookies with me for that price. At least throw in an R2-D2 crockpot for dinner with my dessert. If I’m spending $600 on a C-3PO cookie jar, I’m probably keeping the various keys to my Lamburginis in it….not cookies. 

HAN SOLO: SMUGGLER. PIRATE. COLLECTABLE PLATE.

Much like novelty cookie jars, the “Collectable Plate” market is often just as baffling. This hobby peaked in the 70’s and 80’s and was already on the decline by 1998’s standards. But God bless ‘em. 

Nothing speaks decadence and class like a 24K gold bordered plate featuring several illustrations of Harrison Ford’s indifferent faces. These days, you may recognize collectable plates from the trailer park of that middle aged Aunt your family keeps their distance from. Walk into any antique store, and you may think that collectable plates were invented solely to feature the likeness of Elvis Presely. Regardless, I don’t know of any fans who were into the “Collectable Plates” of Star Wars. When you can line your shelves with statues, busts and lightsaber hilts…adorn your walls with film posters and original artwork…I’m not sure if “plates” even come into question. But to each their own. Between this and the cookie jar, I’m beginning to think Lucasfilm really wanted to corner the mee-maw market. 

This plated collage of Han would set you back $35 (that’s $63 today) but trusty ‘ol eBay, the internet’s lovable cyber-smuggler, had a bunch of these brand new for around $30. If these were slightly cheaper, I’d probably go ahead and create a custom “Hanburger” and serve it on this very plate. I’d dine while watching “A New Hope”. Picking the remnants of my Hanburger toppings off this plate. A few shreds of lettuce revealing Ford’s disgruntled face staring back at me. His judgement seeping through me; making me question my life choices up to this point.   The realization of my dinner’s main course…being loneliness. 

R2-D2: THE TELEPHONE

Well we found it. We found the thing that I want most in this entire magazine. Understand, I despise talking on the phone. Yet I want it. I have no need for a landline. Yet I want it. It’s large. Cumbersome. Impractical. Probably annoying after the novelty wears off in a few days. 

Yet I want it. 

This replica of Artoo lights up, swivels his head,and makes authentic noises when the phone rings. The receiver is part of his leg. The image they went with is great too. That warm illuminated cloud city grated floor. A black gloved hand holding the receiver. Is it Darth? Is it Luke? Who are they calling? Do they have phone numbers in Star Wars? Weequay looks like he could’ve been a phone technician. 

This bad boy was going for $99 in the catalog (that’s $177 today). Going the eBay route, he looks to be around the same price in box. And Call2-D2 was repackaged various times throughout its lifespan. From the “blue/gold space” Original trilogy aesthetic to the “gold/red/maroon” Episode 1 vibe to the “Guy Feitti’s hot rod” Revenge of the Sith look. It’s clear it was a popular item that the people demanded. If you had to make a phone call, wouldn’t it be through an R2 unit? He is a service droid afterall!

Lifesize Replica Boba Fett 

Back before Boba Fett was an aimless boring old man that needed to soak in a Bacta tank to take out the garbage, he was the galaxy’s most feared bounty hunter that had a cult following for simply looking like a complete badass. A character that truly represented the best parts of “less is more” within the fandom. Mystery served Boba best and although those days are far behind us, I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t punt a Porg for a set of that sweet Mandolarian battle armor.  

This is a 6 foot fiberglass Boba fett dressed in authentic armor made by the legendary Don Post studios. And I’m pretty sure it’s the most expensive thing in this catalog retailing for $4,500 (that comes out to a little over $8K today). I had to do some digging on this specific Boba in question, as the paragraph doesn’t give much insight. But I tracked it down through the bobafettfanclub.com (est. ‘96) that these were limited editions to around 250 pieces. The armor was cast from original props on actor Jeremy Bulloch from Return of the Jedi. It weighs about 85 lbs and there’s currently (?) one on display in the lobby of Lucasfilm in San Francisco, California. 

It also states (twice) that this is not a costume, meaning they know exactly what I’m thinking. 

I often wonder who would buy these and for what reason. I realize the business aspect of marketing this, I’ve seen “props” like this in wax and movie museums, but the ability to sell this privately is something. Eccentric millionaires could line their personal screening rooms with fun things like this…but….let’s be honest…the people who would truly appreciate this couldn’t fit it in their apartment or their wives wouldn’t allow it in their two bedroom ranch home. 

 There are only one of these listed on eBay currently…and it’s going for $18K. Considered a “grail” piece of Star Wars memorabilia. I’m certainly glad at least one of these survived. They’re worth a lot to me. 

Star Wars Buddies and Luke Skywalker Utility Belt 

Being me I have to briefly touch on some toys that brought up some nostalgic memories. 

The Star Wars Buddies were bean bag plush that I felt like were capitalizing on the Beanie Baby fad of the time. I remember seeing a box of these guys in every toy store I had the privilege of visiting. They never spoke to me though unfortunately. Droids shouldn’t be soft and huggable. Jawas aren’t likable. Wicket and Chewie make sense, yet Chewie looks like some sort of hairy Mr. Potato Head. I would’ve leaned more into a set of various Ewoks personally, as the younger generation would probably embrace them more than the previous. I also find it interesting that Wicket isn’t called by his name. He’s just “Ewok”. 

You can still find these galactic “beanie buddies” at various comic cons and online marketplaces for around the same price they are now. I believe more characters were made, as I remember Yoda, a “leather” like Jabba the Hutt, and even purchasing a Max Reebo for my own nefarious reasons years back. I can personally recall my friend Eric, who lent me this very magazine, had a bunch of these strung up adorning his bedroom window when we were kids. Heard he had to fight girls off back then. They were practically an aphrodisiac. 

The Luke Skywalker utility belt really stuck out to me for two reasons: roleplaying sets were some of my favorite kinds of “toys” and I’ve actually never seen this set before. It comes with his blaster, adjustable belt to attach your suction cup darts, and “electrobinoculars”. What’s missing, as I’m sure we’ve all noticed, is a Lightsaber. In fact, there isn’t a lightsaber (toy or collectable) available in this entire catalog. Which I find more shocking than sith lightning fingers. The Lightsaber is arguably the most iconic prop in Star Wars and one of the most iconic weapons in popular culture. I did some digging and did find out midway through 1999, Hasbro recalled over half a million toy lightsabers due to “batteries overheating and rupturing”. Yet this catalog is from mid-1998, nearly a year prior. Regardless, it’s just an interesting and surprising insight, as you’d think you could open The Star Wars magazine with The Star Wars catalog to purchase  a Lightsaber. It’s like going to Disneyland and not finding Mouse ears to purchase. 

This roleplay set was going for $18.95 (about $34 today). It looks to go around $50-80 online, which is interesting for this era of Star Wars collectability as many toys were overproduced. I guess there’s a reason why I didn’t recall seeing this when I was a kiddo. I would’ve certainly begged for it come my Birthday or Christmas time. And it would’ve paired great with an electronic Lightsaber. Damn. Just thinking about this now makes me regret it! 

1995 Darth Vader Power Talker Mask

This Darth Vader mask pictured isn’t listed in the catalog I’m sharing. But it’s an important artifact in my personal Star Wars lore. It’s not worth much these days. About $30 new in the retail box. I distinctly remember going to a local Service Merchandise with my grandparents one particular afternoon when they purchased this for me. I don’t know why I was getting this. I don’t know if we went there for this…if it was a special occasion or I was being rewarded in some way. I can recall holding the box in a toy aisle. Getting home. The sturdy plastic with a velcro strap pressed against my face. How it always sort of hurt the bridge of my nose. The slight dark tint the eyes gave my surroundings. It came with a speaker box adorning the “Star Wars” logo you’d clip to your pants. The deep robotic tone it made your voice when you’d speak into the tiny cheap microphone embedded in the plastic. You didn’t really sound like Darth Vader, but it was close enough. 

I remember this vividly because that mask gave me a boost of courage. When wearing it, I was no longer afraid of the dark. Or being in the moody basement or damp crawl space alone. The weird natural bellowing noises didn’t make me dart off in fear. I was Darth Vader, baby. Dark Lord of the Sith. I emanated Vader’s iconic breathing to the best of my ability. I thought it sounded legit but who knows these days. The boogeyman himself could’ve jumped out in my darkened path and threatened me with maximum spook-age. But with my Darth Vader POWER TALKER mask on, I wouldn’t have taken his shit in the slightest. I’d probably try to Force-choke him, realize it did nothing, and then ran. My point being though, before that I felt badass.

This era of new Star Wars merchandise was branded “Power of The Force”. And I know I’m thinking too much about this, but it certainly was. It was THE POWER of Star Wars.  It has had relevance since inception. And staying power culturally and financially.  

Hey, since I have you here…lets get existential for a minute…

I was driving home last night and thinking about thumbing through this magazine and simply asked myself, “Why do I like this shit?” I guess…more specifically…”Why do I like Star Wars?”. 

Upon posing that question, I remembered, as a child, tying an old belt around my waist while wearing one of my grandfather’s white v-neck t-shirts. It being at least 3 sizes too big draped over me. Underneath I wore tight cream colored long underwear. A cheap black plastic flashlight gripped in one hand. Running around my grandparents’ hallways. Peaking into rooms, igniting my “lightsaber” flashlight, and whispering “I’m Luke Skywalker, I’m here to rescue you…” to the imaginary Princess sitting captive on the bed. This memory wasn’t unearthed and buried under decades of memory matter.

It was reflexive. Like when a doctor hits your knee with that tiny rubber hammer. The memory I shared is my natural answer to the question “Why do I like Star Wars?”.  Natural as The Force itself. As if my brain answered back, “You like Star Wars because you always have.” As adults, imagination fades with time and responsibilities. When we witness children doing this, we now simply see it as “playing”. And it is. But reality tarnishes imagination. It makes us lose sight of our simpler pleasures and interests.

Star Wars, to me, is tied to innocence, simplicity, and limitless imagination. It’s a story of good conquering evil through bravery, selflessness, and doing what’s right…even when it seems most difficult. 

Star Wars was a bond between family and friends I no longer have, in places that no longer exist. Each film started with the iconic words, “A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…” and the warmth of this past I’m describing is beginning to feel a long time ago and with a history that certainly seems far far away. And Star Wars is one of those devices, the force if you will, that takes me back and, in the very least, gives me the memories…the feelings…of being together again. My whole life ahead of me. Plastic flashlight in hand.

Star Wars, now to generations of people, has sparked imagination, determination, and creativity for decades. It has succeeded popular culture. It’s biblical…for better or worse. Blasphemy? I’m speaking on popular culture…also for better or worse. Star Wars represents a simpler time for some. It currently is a simpler time for many. A bonding agent for human socialization. An ice breaker. Maybe even the very foundation of friendships and relationships. A source for positive growth and morals. We can’t all be Luke Skywalker…a simple farm boy destined for greatness…but we all play a role in each other’s destiny. 

For my ally is the Force, and a powerful ally it is. Life creates it, makes it grow. Its energy surrounds us and binds us. Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter. You must feel the Force around you; here, between you, me, the tree, the rock, everywhere, yes.

Thanks for reading about some ludacris Star Wars collectables found in a 25 year old magazine and the impact this silly space story had on me decades later. You can always find offbeat ramblings on comic culture such as this at ChrisDoesComics.com. Until next time, May The Ads Be With You…Always.

Turtle Power!

I’ve been doing something pretty difficult with my artwork lately: holding back. It’s not something I’m doing for good. It’s an experiment of sorts. I love drawing my dirt, grime, and grit. Basically, am I able to replicate the style of marketable IPs? If someone wanted me to draw streamlined styles…could I? That’s what I did here. I tried to replicate the style of the old 1988 Playmates Ninja Turtles packaging. Something you might find on an old lunchbox thermos or something.

Use the slider to slide between the ’87 cartoon figure turtles and the original Eastman and Laird take. I had fun doing this simple clean style. I might do more for sure.

Monsters With A Side of Fries

In October of 1997, fast food chain Burger King featured four Universal Monsters as kids’ meal toys. Universal Studios was in the process of reviving their catalog of classic horror films by remastering them for various official VHS releases. These fast food toys, amongst other various promotions, were Universal’s way of introducing the classic monsters to younger audiences as well as rejuvenating interest within the pop culture psyche. 

But I’m not here to talk about that really . 

I’m here to explain why a grown man decided to write about 25 year old fast food toys for the sheer fun of it. When writing, I often make humorous attempts to explain as to why I am what I am, taking (not so) subtle jabs at my interests and hobbies. They come off almost apologetic to the reader. I might do that because I realize my topic is a niche that mostly everybody couldn’t care less about. I might know that because I’ve literally seen energy drain from one’s face while I’m speaking to them about said topic. 

But you’re here. And you’re reading this. And I appreciate that. 

So, with this article, I’d like to go on the record as to deduce why these cheap molded pieces of plastic mean so much to me. And I’ve chosen Burger King’s Universal Monsters Toys because they might just be my favorite toys of all time. Yet it’s not just because of glow-in-the dark paint or a plastic coffin, as cool as those are, it’s the time and place they put you in. So grab some fries, join me, and let’s make sense of this together… 

Down for the Count Dracula. Bolts and Volts Frankenstein. Wolf Man Cellar Dweller. The Creature Scaly Squirter. These are their actual names because God Bless America. 

I couldn’t tell you when I decided Halloween was my favorite holiday. It was kinda like the hiccups. It just happens. Growing up, Burger King was my favorite fast food restaurant. From the fries, burgers, and chicken tenders…I always felt Burger King just did it better than the golden arches. Though the ultimate deciding factor within my little universe was what toys were being offered. I may have a hankering for a Happy Meal, but who wants another stinkin’ Hot Wheel when BK has The Universal Monsters?! Then these toys meant hours of fun playtime adventures…but today they function as tiny personal plastic time machines. 

When I see these Universal Monsters they bring me right back to the passenger seat of my mom’s Buick Skylark. It’s a chilly midwest evening sometime in October. We’re sitting in the Burger King drive thru waiting for our order. At this point in time, this was sort of our new tradition. There was a small notepad in the glove compartment. Scrawled within were home addresses within a reasonable driving distance. The addresses consisted of wildly decorated homes for the Halloween season. Not just some plastic tombstones and cobwebs. This was some truly theatrical stuff. Strobe lights. Fog machines. 6 foot monster dummies. Entire spooky scenes! Serious business. It began with a couple homes casually stumbled upon through The Great Pumpkin’s glory. Sometimes my mom would catch a segment on the local news and she’d quickly jot down the address. And in just a couple years the list grew to a solid nine or so residences. 

Come Friday or Saturday evening in the midst of October she would nonchalantly ask if I wanted to “go look at houses”. She didn’t have to ask. This was one of my favorite things to do all year. I rarely trick or treated. There were no parties I’d attend. I was too afraid of Haunted Houses. When it came to Halloween, I realized I was an observer. I loved to take in others enjoying the holiday in their own festive ways. It’s probably why the smell of rubber bats and skeletons shame any essential oils when it comes to obtaining relaxation.  

We’d hop in the car and I’d immediately rifle through her compact nylon case of cassettes. Shuffling past Van Halen and The Fugees to find the tape with one of those cheap cardboard slipcases. A Halloween album purchased at the counter of a drug store for a bargain because all the songs were mediocre covers. You know the one. Yet, for this tradition, it was as important as the car keys. With some rewinding and the beginning of an off-brand Monster Mash fading in, we disappeared into the eerily quiet Autumn evening.  

Which brings us back to that Burger King drive thru. Waiting for our order. Chicken tendies Kids Meal. That smell of fresh hot french fries entering the car. The bag slightly fogging up my side of the window. I eagerly pull out the familiar toy bag. The warm plastic has the faint texture of oil and grains of salt. I gush over my newly acquired Count Dracula. My mom’s more interested in stealing some of my fries. A bootleg  “Purple People Eater” cover plays softly through the car speakers. At this point, the Universal Monsters were not “new” to me by any stretch of the imagination. At this age I was strictly banned from watching horror movies, yet the Universal classics were fair game. My mom told me tales of her preteen indulgences in the “Late Night Creature Feature”. Therefore, she deemed the antics of Karloff, Lugosi, and Chaney tame by “modern” standards and acceptable for a young chap such as myself. And, with that, these ghouls and their respective midnight movies became a shared interest, a bond if you will, between child and parent. Especially during the Halloween season. 

And, once again, we were off. Rubber to road. Sustenance in hand. A budget rendition of “Ghostbusters” to bob our heads to. Our destinations were the collective creepy creative concoctions only Halloween and its faithful followers could bring. I eagerly munched a chicken tender, feeling grateful for my mother’s navigation of the uneven pothole ridden streets. When pulling up to a home, I took in the gory ghoulish glory peeking out of my passenger window. Sometimes, if feeling courageous, I would roll it down to get a better look. But too deathly afraid to leave the safety of the car and approach the spooky scenes. Graveyards looking as if they were ripped straight from the “Thriller” music video. Lifelike vampires, witches, and werewolves appeared so real I was afraid they’d lunge straight for my throat! Yet, despite all that creepy coolness, the memories that stuck with me most were the drives between the scenes. When we’d wrap up seeing a house and I’d rewind a cassette track. Fantasize in my head about a monster coming to life and chasing us from the yard…making for our narrow escape. Our short conversations pointing out our favorite home so far. Ideas of what we’d do if we had the yard (or money) to showcase our devotion to Halloween for everyone to see. The quiet moments where I’d gaze out my window into the seemingly endless night. Getting lost in fantasy that perhaps a monster, much like the plastic one I gripped, was roaming the dark mysterious roads. The comfort of being with my mom. The sound of fallen leaves crunching below me. The common sight of jack o’lanterns smiling back at me. And knowing, nah, believing that anything could happen during the Halloween season. To know full well that magic doesn’t exist, but to feel like I experienced some form of it. 

With patented childlike persistence (and annoyance to my mom and grandmother that comes with it), I managed to collect Dracula, Frankenstein, and the Wolfman (two in fact! Wolfmen?). The Creature was the one to elude me, yet I did manage to “battle” a friend’s Creech during an indoor recess. Back when we’d sneak in small toys to fidget with throughout the school day. A physical reminder of the fun and freedom the “outside world” granted us from within the dull monotonous Chicago public school system. Besides action features, the Monsters came with glow-in-the-dark stickers that proudly adorned a few school folders for the remainder of the 1997 school year. But, like everything, time faded those stickers. The Universal Monster figures became buried by newly acquired plastic playthings. And, while certainly not forgotten, I lacked the foresight as a child to value the meaning behind them. Afterall how could I be nostalgic for the “good ‘ol days” when I was currently in them? 

The “Halloween House Hunting” tradition was soon to follow. Spookless joyrides led to crossing off addresses within our trusty notepad. The car crawling in front of a dark house and checking if we had the right address became more common than any plastic skeleton or latex limb. We’d reason with each other that perhaps they moved…or maybe someone passed away. Until the season came where we decided to stop altogether. Another victim to the hands of time. But with no styrofoam tombstone to commemorate its existence. 

I told you earlier I don’t know when I decided Halloween was my favorite holiday. But, at least, you get an idea of why it is. Yet there’s something that,ultimately, depresses me when writing about it. It could be the simple realization that not only are these days far gone, but the people and places are as well. And, as I get older, the memory becomes more and more muddled. Details become lost or substituted to the point where it nearly becomes fabrication. It could also be a disappointment, I have for myself, that my personal cherished memories stem from cheap molded plastic rather than the people who surrounded me. The truth that a compilation video of old commercials moves me more than a family photo album. But, at the same time, these little aspects of capitalism are triggers for more meaningful memories. An answer as to why one of my favorite pastimes is digging around a plastic toy bin at any comic convention or flea market. I don’t think there’s been an instance of toy scrounging where I haven’t bored my wife with a story or my best friend and I exchange childhood memories like NBA POGS. I guess it’s just how I’m wired. 

I’ve recently revisited some of the homes I recalled on those spooky special fall nights. I’d foolishly approach them believing that, just maybe, they’ll look just as they used to be. But all the optimism didn’t change the fact that they currently sit shrouded in shadow. Not even a jack o’lantern present to grin back at me. As for the Burger King Universal Monsters figures, I own them because of course I do. They’re not the originals I had as a kid. I managed to pick up a full bagged set about 10 years back. And I can’t recall whom I was with, but I’m sure I talked the poor soul’s ear off about them….just like I’m doing to you. I rarely get Burger King these days on account of all the Burger King I ate collecting Pokemon and Universal Monster toys. But, sometimes, when I’m yearning to have diarrhea I’ll pull through the drive thru. And everytime that familiar smell of fresh french fries invades my car I’d get that feeling again. That’s Halloween. Let’s pop in that cassette. Let’s go look at houses. Let’s feel that magic that only belongs to me. 

And just like everything mentioned, we’ll all eventually succumb to the time. And these cheap molded pieces of plastic may not be immortal like Count Dracula, but they’ll seem like it…to me at least. So, for now, I’m sharing with you these simple silly monster figures. They’re keys. And they’ll always unlock this very memory. No matter how faded it eventually becomes.

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Comment below and let me know about your special item and why it means so much to you…