13 - G.I. Joe with the Kung Fu Grip

How is it that even toy makers started subjecting us to sexual stereotypes when we were barely able to crawl, yet we all didn’t end up in therapy?
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Well, most of us did.
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It truly becomes evident as you look at any plastic “fashion/style” doll. All the tiny plastic women have hourglass figures and neutron bomb breasts, ready to poke an eye out. GI Joe and Ken are basically built the same, but Joe would obviously kick Ken’s ass in a fight. When I was in kindergarten, my sister gave me a tiny suitcase filled with Ken and Barbie and all of their various clothes and accessories.
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She said, "Here, take this to ‘show and tell’. It will be fun."
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"What about GI Joe?"
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"What about him?"
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"Can I take Joe?"
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"Alright, I guess," she said and carefully tucked him into the small wooden box with Barbie and Ken and all of their clothes. All GI Joe had was his helmet, his olive drabs, his rifle and his gun. One was for fighting and one was for fun. So, Joe got to go to school with Barbie and Ken, bouncing around in the case between the two. Ken and Barbie had special straps to hold them in place. Joe, on the other hand, was tossed on his head several times. It was okay, though, because Joe could take it.
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I got to Kindergarten and stored the carrying case beside my Happy Days lunch box n my storage cube and went about my day. The teacher had laid large strips of paper across our tables and we spent a good part of the morning gathered around our group's table coloring on the paper and talking about anything we could think about, which was usually which toys everyone did or didn't have. About halfway through the morning, Mrs. Greer, our kindergarten teacher, asked a trivia question about something she had talked about during the morning. If someone answered her trivia question correctly, they were allowed to sit on one of the four beanbags during story time. I was usually busy talking to someone, so I rarely knew the answers to her trivia questions. Instead, I got to sit on the hard, carpeted floor with Karen and Stacey Goldman, who also never seemed to have the answers, either.
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We'd lie down and whisper things between each other, giggling, and often getting told to quiet down by Mrs. Greer. Sometimes we'd just get split apart until show and tell. After story time, we got to have play time, which always got us all wound up. During playtime, Eric Butler, who also sat at our table, and Joey Burton joined us while we played with Tinker toys or Wooden Blocks. After a while, Karen suggested I get my wooden box off the shelf and we'd play with whatever was inside.
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I ran to the cubby hole with my stuff and pulled out my sister’s “Doll Box”. I returned and flung open the lid. Ken and Barbie were ready and waiting, strapped into place.
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“Oh!” exclaimed Stacey, “I just love Barbie!”
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She carefully removed Barbie from her perch and walked her back and forth on the carpet. Eric followed along, unfastening Ken and prancing him around on the carpet next to Barbie. I dug through the clothes and out popped the head of G.I. Joe (the Great American Hero!).
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However, before I could get my hands on Gi.I. Joe, Joey quickly snatched him up and began dancing, forcing his way between Ken and Barbie.
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“Hey! That’s mine!” I exclaimed.
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“Yeah, but I got him first. Fingers keepers, losers weepers, boo-hoo-hoo!” He mimicked rubbing his tearful eyes before returning to his dance with the Barbie Doll. Every so often, he took Joe by the arms and pretended to punch him. Then, he laughed and danced next to Barbie some more.
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“Here,” said Eric, “You can take Ken.”
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“But I want Joe.”
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“I am playing with him. You’ve got Ken.”
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And so I did have Ken – which wasn’t what I wanted at all. As I watched Joe show off with G.I. Joe, I grabbed Ken by the legs and clocked Joey on the head. Ken flew out of his beach pants and fell to the ground. He was broken in two.
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“Ohhhh,” said Stacey.
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“He’s hurt,” said Karen.
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By this time, Mrs. Greer came over to see what all the commotion was about and she immediately stooped down to pick up the broken Ken doll.
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“What do we have here?”
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“”Balth hit me with the Ken doll.”
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“He took my G.I. Joe.”
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“I did not.”
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“You did too. It’s right there in your hands.”
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“Alright, alright, Joey, you return the G.I. Joe to Balthazar and we’ll return Ken back to normal.”
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“But he’s broken…”
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Mrs. Greer led me to her desk where she pulled out a drawer with a large stash of sewing supplies. She fished out a crocheting needle and used the hooked end to pull out the extra bit of elastic cord. Then, she fastened the cord and pulled everything was as good as new…almost.
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“Ken’s bent over.”
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"Well, maybe the elastic is just a bit too tight. It'll stretch with time.”
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She attempted to fix it, but he was still slightly bent into an L-shape. Mrs. Greer scrunched her nose the slightest bit as she handed him back to me.
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“I know it’s not perfect, but it’s the best I can do.”
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I took Ken and returned to the play area where the Doll Box sat. I fastened Ken into place, but he was reaching forward, like a kid on on that amusement park ride where you spin around and the bottom falls out.
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I stared at it for a moment before putting everyone back into the box and returning it to the cubby hole. Show and Tell came and went without me sharing the Doll Box to the classmates.
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When I arrived home, my sister immediately greeted me as I entered the kitchen. She was fixing up some of her special Macaroni and Cheese for us. It included a handful of taco cheese stirred in at the end. Long strings of cheddar always stretched from the fork to the macaroni, which made it taste great and it was more fun, too.
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“How was show and tell?”
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“I didn’t do it. I had a problem. I broke Ken.”
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“Oh?”
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She came over as I opened the Doll Box and explained that morning’s events. She simply scruffed me on the head and said, “It’s okay, maybe Ken is a bender. Maybe he’s a gymnast.”

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It is funny how, in the 1970s, that phrase would’ve been so harmless and meaningless, yet now, as I look back, there is a stereotype which was pervasive all throughout the day, even back then. Ken was Ken and Ken hung out with Barbie, but she really probably preferred a weekend out with Joe, talking about his missions with the Adventure Team, doing something with his SCUBA gear or using his zip-line to get into an enemy hideout.

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Yeah, those toy manufactures, just like the rest of us, they jump to conclusions without batting an eye. Me and my sister sat down in the kitchen nook and ate our macaroni and cheese and all the troubles just seemed to blow away.
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