It was a humbling lesson, to eight-year-old me over half a century ago, that no matter how much passion you feel for something, no matter what level of expertise you bring to it - there's always someone else out there who is better at it than you and has more resources to pursue it. It took some nifty packaging parody stickers to teach me that in 1975, as Topps, the famed baseball card company, released Wacky Package stickers to the world.
I saw them first on a short family trip to southern Ohio to visit a relative. We had stopped at a gas station that had them on sale and I convinced Dad to buy me a pack, which was a classic road trip move most kids probably had then. It had a few stickers and a stick of standard Topps petrified gum in it, and I was mesmerized:
The following week, back home, they turned up at the Summit Street carry-out and there went a cut of my lunch money. We kids called it "Harold's" after the owner/operator, and he was glad to see us there buying candy after school when we could. The Wacky Packages were funny as hell to me in third grade, sort of an introduction to satire if you will, and I wanted to collect them all. I wanted to see them all, possess them all, and become the King of Wacky Packages, a title made up in my own weird childhood head.
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| Summit Street Carry-Out AKA Harold’s, now just a home. |
Anyone who has collected anything like that knows that - when there is a series of anything to collect - that the last two or three will be the hardest to get. One never knows how much care went into shuffling them up at the printer/packager, but to get a complete set may mean weeks and weeks of purchasing the item, hoping to get a pack with that one rare one.
That's where I was in third grade, down to one or two, when the rich kid in class showed up and laid out his two full sets and extras. While he had an extra one of the last one I needed for a complete set, he would not trade anything I had for it. All of the extras I had, he had in more numbers anyway. Plus, he felt special being the only one with a full set, and if I accomplished that, it would diminish his achievement.
The lesson I learned that day was that all my passion for it, all my careful moves to get a full set, were not enough to make me the King of Wacky Packages in third grade. My own sense of accomplishment was diminished knowing that whoever has the most money wins most things in life. Still, the stickers were funny and I kept picking them up.
Later, I grew up and did not let other people's accomplishments shadow my own, learning to enjoy what I enjoyed in life without comparing it to others'. I collect things I want to enjoy them as I want, not to compare them to what others have.
Here is most of what is left of my 1970s Wacky Packages. I had peeled the stickers and put them in a blank book, and later transferred them to a photo album, before finally framing them in 2013:
In the 1980s, as a teenager, I collected the new series as well. I did not want to grow up and lose my sense of humor. This time, I had enough financial resources to complete a set. I had peeled them and put them in a similar book to the one I used in the 1970s, but that booklet was lost sometime after I moved out of my parent's home. My best guess is that I left it in the basement and Mom threw it out later during a junk purge. A damaged checklist was recovered from the basement later:
In the 1990s, as an adult, I collected them again, as the Wacky Packages showed up at my comic book store. I completed that set and still have those in an album today. There was also a cool poster one could assemble by using the back of the checklist card:
A few years ago, I saw that there were two art books for sale showing the 1970s Wacky Packages, and picked them up too. What was cool about those art books were introductions from the original artists and some never-released designs made into actual Wacky Packages!
At some point in the 2010s, someone I knew bought me a modern pack of Wacky Packages. You can tell the era by the one sticker for “Super Mario Fart”.
Finally, sometime after the pandemic in the early 2020s, my adventures took me to a fancy stationary store where, by the cash register, there were little 3D-printed Wacky Packages of various products for sale. I didn’t buy one but smiled as the parody of products and packaging continues, even if not in sticker form.
I'll never go gung ho for Wacky Packages save for what I currently have. Vintage video games are expensive enough, and what I have saved of my Wacky Packages - especially those two books - are enough to get a chuckle out of me as they are.
Now, Trog-Lo-Dytes Action Packs are another matter entirely. That's a story for next year, though.
