More and more stuff is coming out of boxes. And the pieces that have still not been found have taken on an aura of mystery. Where is the Archive Miniatures lower orcan and goblin army. Where are the odd Heritage orcs? Where are the remaining Napoleonette cavalry pieces? And what happened to the Dragontooth miniatures?

When I was younger, just out of college and still living at home, my father had an odd habit of taking things of mine and keeping them as his own. It was not until after his death that I discovered such oddities as an issue of Amazing Spiderman no. 33, a melodic banjo instruction book, and an old issue of Warren Publications’ Creepy magazine in his room as well as several other items. I was able to get back most of these but not all before my mother gave away all my father’s things to some religious cultists living down the street. I suspect some of the miniatures disappeared this way.

I once checked and found that I had changed location about once every two years since the day I was born. Under those circumstances, life ends up in cardboard boxes roughly stacked somewhere waiting for the day when all the hidden treasures are revealed. Which is to say that there is a long way to go before my project started with this website reaches any level of completion of even its first stage. Where for example are the original Tony Bath ancient rules? At this point, I would be happy to consolidate all this stuff in one place but even that seems difficult. Still, I remain on the case.

Toys were violent at that time. Most small boys not addicted to sports could be counted on to wield a small arsenal of toy weaponry. My most benign piece was a hunting rifle with scope made of plastic which my parents purchased for me when I was 4. All these weapons and soldiers and competitive games led me to believe that aggressive leadership amongst toddlers was the way to go but as a gawky, thin child with glasses, I just came off as annoying and finally a bit marginalized.

Of course, at that point, toy soldiers are just the ticket for solidifying one’s fantasy worlds complete with maps and histories and then carrying those worlds on into adulthood.

But in the beginning, there were MPC ringhand spacemen. When we moved to a new house when I was 5, I recall setting them up on patrol among the labyrinth of packed boxes. Where the spacemen went is not hard to guess. My father thought of toys the way one things of old lottery tickets and was quick to discard them. He taught me a lesson I still have not fully learned. But that was a beginning.