Botstock VII: Vintage Space Toy Convention (Pt. 2)

Every year, vintage space toy and robot collectors gather together for Botstock (click here for Part 1 of the Botstock Posts). This year's event was held at the Toy Robot Museum in Adamstown, PA. Adamstown, for those who don't regularly read this blog, is a haven for antique hunters, with dozens of stores lining the town's main strip. In my last post, I wrote about Botstock itself. This post gives the nitty-gritty, blow-by-blow account of my weekend's antiquing adventures. As always, the less obsessive might want to just skim this one... 

I went down to Adamstown with three friends: Steve Jaspen, Karl Tate, and John Alvarez. We woke up early Saturday morning, raring to go, and decided to try an outdoor antique market called Shupp's Grove first. The place is usually picked clean by late morning, and the dealers often turn in early to beat the later-day heat. We ended up getting there by 8:30 or so, but sadly, didn't see too many interesting pieces. One toy that did stand out was the Electric Drive Marx Mobile riding car. It's a three-foot long, battery-powered, lithographed tin monster that was meant for kids to, well, ride on. Impressive, but also expensive... I passed, but not until I'd taken a few good pictures. (Thanks to Phil Marks, proprietor of Shupp's Grove booth T-17.)

The Marx Mobile! Kids would sit in the cockpit and put their feet up on the pars extending from either side of the toy. The whole thing ran on a lantern battery. Wow!



The cockpit. All those buttons actually did stuff, from turning on lights to making noise.



The last thing you see as this puppy goes tearing down the street... 

We spent a little more time poking through Shupp's before finally calling it quits. We decided to move on to Morphy's Auction House, a usually reliable source for vintage toys. Turns out we weren't disappointed; Morphy's had a number of beautiful pieces, some rare, some fairly common. All were expensive, of course, but some were still within the acceptable, if high, end of the market. The belle of the ball for me was probably a dead-mint Strato Gun and its scarce box. I'll admit, I'd seen it before -- it's been sitting on the same shelf for years, and I'm pretty certain the seller is either going to have to remove the word "FIRM" from the toy's price tag, or else give up entirely and take the darn thing home for good. It's a great piece, but I can't see spending the money he wanted to get.


This Strato Gun has never been fired, according to the seller. The box is ultra rare. The toy's priced accordingly. Sigh. For more info on this gun, check out this previous post.

Other highlights at Morphy's included a rare, boxed Space Patrol watch and original, domed compass; a nice example of the relatively common Robby Tractor; a super clean, grey Cragstan Mr. Robot; and a really rare Nautilus Submarine toy from the Disney film 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. As if that wasn't enough, we also stumbled on a shelf full of drop dead gorgeous space banks. Unfortunately, they were part of an upcoming auction and weren't for sale before then. 

The nicest example of a Space Patrol watch and compass set I've ever seen. Dig Buzz Corey on the box top!



This nifty little tractor was also available in blue.



I've only seen a couple boxed examples of this extremely uncommon Nautilus submarine. I love this toy...







Various rocket banks. These are all rarer variations on banks that otherwise pop up quite often. I've never seen so many banks offered at once, or in such nice condition. It should be one heck of an auction.

Speaking of auctions, Morphy's was having one as we entered the building. It was a broad assortment of items, and I found a few interesting space toys. Nothing I desperately needed to own, though, so I didn't bother registering to bid. A friend of mine named Bill -- who goes by the Alphadrome handle Tinman93 -- scored a beautiful Archer Rocket. I wish I'd thought to take some pictures...

While I didn't buy any toys at Morphy's, I did indulge another collection of mine: 1939 World's Fair memorabilia. I'd found a nice, enameled pin on one of the shelves for $23 and couldn't resist picking it up. Little did I know that I'd be establishing a trend that would last through the end of the weekend. (You'll have to wait a few paragraphs for pictures!)

After Morphy's, we headed to something I remember being called the Antique Co-Op. It's a ramshackle little building with two floors and dozens of cases full of all sorts of interesting stuff -- including one that was practically overflowing with World's Fair material. I quickly picked out a number of items I wanted, but I decided not to buy them until I'd done some more toy hunting. I knew that the World's Fair stuff wasn't going anywhere, and I wanted to keep my money in reserve in case something really good popped up. Not only were there a whole mess of other antique stores to explore, but a few dealers were scheduled to show up sometime that day and I wanted to be ready for them.

A nice woman at the Co-Op gave me the name of the dealer who owned the World's Fair case and suggested I try coming by on Sunday when he'd be around. She figured he might be willing to cut me a deal on the pieces that interested me -- music to my ears. I promised both her and myself that I'd swing back to pick up at least a small item or two.

Next up: Adam's Antiques, a large, sort of ugly, brick building that's chock full of cases, each one stuffed with everything you can imagine -- including toys. Unfortunately, pickings were slim -- let's face it, pickings are almost always slim when it comes to vintage robots and ray guns -- but we did finally uncover a few good pieces. Chief among these was a super mint Tom Corbett: Space Cadet tin clicker gun and a nearly pristine box. I was tempted by it, I'll admit, but the price was just a bit too high. Not an unfair price, don't get me wrong, but more than I wanted to spend. If I was going to drop that kind of cash, it was going to be for something I like more than that gun.

Sadly, Adam's Antiques is touchy about photographs, so you'll have to close your eyes and use your imaginations. I realize that many of this blog's readers have no idea whatsoever what a Tom Corbett: Space Cadet tin clicker gun looks like, but I trust you'll come up with something suitably insane.

There were a couple other places we wanted to hit after Adam's, but first we decided to phone Joe and see if any dealers had shown up. Nope. So we headed over to a place called the Mad Hatter.

The Mad Hatter is another antique mall, one I've had a lot of luck with in the past. My first time there, I picked up a beautiful, red Space Patrol smoke gun, as well as a stack of vintage, first edition science fiction paperbacks. I managed to get more books on my next trip -- but those would be my last. This time around, the supply of books had dried up. There weren't any space toys, either. However, I did find an amazing shelf of early to mid century Hallowe'en decorations and toys. I love these things... They've got nothing to do with anything I collect, but the colors, the imagery -- it's all just so cool!

Every day is Hallowe'en! (A gold star for anyone who gets that particular reference.)

John did find something that interested him, though, and I uncovered a neat World's Fair postcard set. We decided to come back on Sunday if our money held out. Given our luck so far, none of us thought we'd have trouble in that department.

After the Mad Hatter, we headed back to the Toy Robot Museum for a bit, and then decided to swing by the hotel to see if any dealers had shown up. We must have had a psychic moment or something, because we arrived just as a dealer and long-time collector named Jay Brotter rolled in. Jay owns an online store called Robot Island, and specializes in not only unusual vintage bots, but also modern and reproduction pieces.

Because Steve, Karl, John and I are all such nice guys, we quickly volunteered to help carry all the boxes of toys into his room. And because we were feeling especially generous, we even helped Jay unpack them. Because that's the kind of guys we are. I suppose we could have made the job even easier by calling some of our friends who were still hanging out at the museum but, well... why bother them, right? Right.

Of course, this meant we had first dibs on all of Jay's toys -- what a coincidence!

A big part of Botstock is what's known as room trading. Collectors bring whatever toys they're looking to prune from their collections, dealers show up with their stock of toys, and everyone wanders around seeing what they can get. In the past, we've had three or four dealers plus a number of other people all bring a huge variety of robots and space toys. This year, however, we learned that two dealers had fallen ill and a third just wasn't able to make it out. It looked like Jay was it, aside from a few small pieces that other collectors were putting up for grabs.

Luckily, I finally managed to pick up a robot from Jay. It's a small, wind up, plastic toy that bounces around like a jitterbug on crystal meth. It's not a rare toy, but I've always liked it and finally decided to pick one up. This version, with the red body and blue arms, was made by a company called Cragstan in the mid Sixties. A slightly earlier version, done all in red, was made by the Japanese company Aoki. Mine is actually paired (incorrectly) with the Aoki box. I don't mind -- it's much cooler than Cragstan's version, and I actually paid less than what other dealers seem to be asking for the toy these days. As far as I'm concerned, it's perfect.

My Cragstan/Aoki jiggle robot. Note the wheeling and dealing in the background.

Room trading. The bed is covered by a variety of both old and newer robots.

Some more toys, a mix of older and modern pieces. The orange robot you can sort of see in the top corner is a custom bot made by a collector.

We called it quits for the day after hanging out with Jay. It was time for our annual BBQ, which takes place behind the hotel anyway, so we all decided that it was time for beer and burgers. We also had a raffle that night -- I didn't win anything -- and then stayed up into the night watching old home movies from the Fifties that someone had brought along. Fun stuff. And then it was time to crash out for the night.

We were up early Sunday morning to see if any dealers would show up. There were a couple, but none had vintage toys. So after hanging out for an hour or so, Steve, John, Karl and I headed over to a giant indoor/outdoor antique mall called Renningers.


Some robots at a dealer's table.

There were a few toys, but once again, nothing too spectacular. We still spent more than an hour picking through people's cases -- even when there's nothing I want, I have fun seeing what's out there.

After Renningers, we decided to head back over to the Mad Hatter so John could pick up something he'd found. While there, I ended up snagging a package of mini-postcards from the '39 World's Fair. (Again, hold tight for pics!)

We hit a couple other random antique stores after that -- we mostly came up empty, though I did pick up a small Westinghouse Robot pin. The Westinghouse Robot was part of the Westinghouse display at the World's Fair. It was a giant, supposedly intelligent robot; in reality, it was controlled by an operator behind the scenes. I like the pin because it nicely bridges my World's Fair and Robot collections. Or something like that.

Finally, right before going to dinner, I returned to the Antique Co-Op to see if I could score some of those World's Fair items I'd looked at on Saturday. The dealer who owned the WF case -- Al -- was there, and he proved to be a real nice guy who was happy to swing a deal on prices. I had planned on buying maybe two pieces, but ended up walking away with five. I still ended up spending less than I'd originally budgeted.


The packet of 16 mini postcards that I bought at the Mad Hatter. These were also sold in a sort of pinkish-orange box; neither is more rare. I happen to be partial to blue.



Clockwise from top right: Westinghouse Robot pin, World's Fair pin from Morphy's, and round World's Fair pinback from the Antique Co-Op. Underneath them all is a World's Fair mirror that I also picked up at the Co-Op.



The enduring symbol of the 1939 World's Fair, the Trylon and Perisphere. I picked this thermometer at the Co-Op. Apparently it was nearly 70 degrees when I took this photo.



A fantastic movie viewer set, complete with three rolls of film. The viewer itself is made from bakelite. Check out the awesome deco box art!


The viewer and two boxes of film. The third strip is stored in the viewer itself.

And that was that. After the Co-Op we went out for a nice Italian dinner with the remaining Botstockers, and then it was time to head back home. Fewer toys than I'd have hoped to find, but I'm really happy with the few things I did manage to take home.

And the hunt continues... 

Strato Gun (Futuristic Products Co. / 1953 / U.S. / 4 x 8.5 inches)

I think what I love most about the Strato Gun is that it really looks like the prop from some great, old science fiction adventure flick. It's fancifully futuristic, but at the same time, it kind of looks like it means business. If your business is blasting BEMs from Betelgeuse.

The Strato Gun is made from chrome-plated, die-cast metal, and it has a pleasing, solid heft -- even in an adult's hand. The toy fires rolls of caps, a simple enough ammunition used by not only junior spacemen, but also junior cowboys, junior pirates, junior cops, and junior soldiers. If you were armed and underage in the Fifties and Sixties, you were probably packing a cap gun.

The body and barrel of the gun flip upwards, revealing the cap mechanism just above the handle.

The toy was originally available in both chrome and matte finishes. (There's also a plastic Dan Dare water pistol made in the U.K. that borrows heavily from the Strato Gun's design.) The chrome version comes up most often, which I think is pretty good since I like it more than its (literally) duller brother.

This ray gun and I go back quite a ways. See, when I first started collecting, Strato Guns appeared on eBay with some regularity -- maybe once every month or two -- and prices were fairly consistent. Consequently, I never bothered bidding on the gun, instead holding my money for whatever rare pieces might pop up. My attitude was, "I can get one whenever I want, so for now I'll go after all the tough stuff."

One day, I was visiting the collector and dealer Justin Pinchot in sunny California. He presented me with a table full of guns for sale, including a dead mint Strato Gun. After giving it some thought, I decided on two guns: the extremely rare and utterly beautiful Renwal Planet Jet (which remains one of my all-time favorites), and a fairly common -- though extremely cool looking -- Ideal 3-Color Futurama Gun. To be fair, I didn't know whether the Futurama gun was common or not; I was new to the game and hadn't yet gained any real perspective.

Regardless, I passed on the Strato Gun because, hey, I could get one any time I wanted. Unless, of course, the supply dried up. Which it did. And unless the price climbed to about six times what I could have bought it for. Which it did.

Fast forward about four or five years. I was down in Adamstown, PA, with my friend, Karl Tate, and my girlfriend, shooting a profile of the Toy Robot Museum and its curator, Joe Knedlhans. We had taken a break for the day and decided to hit Morphy's auction house -- they also have cases full of toys being sold on consignment and you never know what you're going to find.

I still didn't own a Strato Gun because I refused to pay more than I was originally prepared to spend all those years ago. Yep, I can be stubborn like that.

I was wandering around, checking out the toys, when from a few cases over my girlfriend lets out a little yell. I rush to see what she's found and discover, sitting on a shelf and gleaming in the overhead light, a shiny Strato Gun. My pulse raced a bit as I stooped down to check out the price tag; it went into overdrive when I saw that the gun cost pretty much what I remembered it costing a few years earlier. It wasn't quite as clean as the one Justin offered me, but it was close enough. About five minutes later, I walked out the door with my newly purchased prize.

There was definitely a feeling of closure when I finally stuck the toy on my shelf; I had my Strato Gun, and a hole in my collection had finally been filled. It also stands as a powerful reminder: Every time I get bummed out about missing an auction or letting a toy slip through my fingers, all I have to do it glance at the Strato Gun and I remember that everything comes up again, and nothing's more important to a collector than patience.

Sing it, Axl! "Just a little patience/Oooh yeah/Just a little patience..."

Top-Shelf Titans: The Brady Chieffi Interview

Every week, I sit down with other addicts collectors to take a look at their toys and discuss the hobby of toy collecting. This week: Brady Chieffi is our Top-Shelf Titan!

Brady Chieffi is one of those toy collectors who doesn't like to discriminate. His shelves are filled with robots, ray guns, aliens, Japanese monsters, Dr. Seuss models, tin toys, plastic toys, soft vinyl toys, and everything in between. But he's also a discerning collector, a man who trusts his eye to lead him to the pieces he really loves. As a result, he's managed to create a beautiful, cohesive collection out of toys that, at first glance, sometimes appear disparate and unconnected. We've taken this opportunity to sit down with him to discuss his vintage toy ray guns. (Okay, and one great robot!)

DOC ATOMIC So, Brady, what do you like about these toys? 

BRADY CHIEFFI I appreciate toys on many levels; as art, as nostalgia, as a tangible expression of imagination, and simply because they are interesting. Often, when I would go to toy shows, I would be confronted by dealers with the question, "Are you looking for something in particular?" Invariably, my answer would be, "Whatever catches my eye." 

Two of Brady Chieffi's ray guns: (top) The rare green Atom Buster (Webb Electric, 1950s) and (bottom) a beautiful example of the Strato Gun (Futuristic Products, Co., 1950s). (All photos by Brady Chieffi)

I also truly believe that toys are meant to be played with. I never understood the people who hoard away their toys, locking them in some dark, unaccessible vault or closet. I will take a mint-in-box toy out of it’s box -- I have to touch it, look at its ingenious design, feel the curves of its shape. Toys radiate a vitality that never really fades away; the older the toy, the stronger its effect. People often tell me I don't look my age (if you must know, I’m 52). My reply is always the same: "My toys keep me young!" 

What do you love about ray guns? 

They embody all that was good about childhood, and the variety of styles and colors are almost infinite. I cold look at them all day, and they’re even more fun to play with! 

Note the copper-colored Atomic Ray (Tudor Rose, 1950s) in the top right corner!

(Top Left) A very rare Roto-Flash Gun (Renwal, 1950s)

Is there any particular gun that stands out as a favorite?

The first truly beautiful gun I ever owned was the Buck Rogers Liquid Helium Gun (Daisy, 1936). It has the most amazing, whiz-bang paint scheme I’ve ever seen on a toy gun. The bright red overlaid with yellow lightening bolts is the stuff of classic early science fiction comics. The shape of the pistol is downright sexy -- look at those curves! It has all the lines of a great sports car, it moves while standing still. 

Then there's the silver and bronze Pyrotomic Disintegrator (Pyro Plastics, 1952), even though, I sadly confess, the ramrod under the barrel is missing. Nonetheless, it still sends chills of excitement down my arm when I sight down the barrel, squeeze the trigger, and see the toy recoil in all its sci-fi splendor. 

So many guns, so little time! The copper gun in the center is the legendary Pyrotomic Disintegrator (Pyro Plastics, 1952). Two below it is the Buck Rogers XZ-44 Liquid Helium Gun (Daisy, 1936). And bottom left is the world's first toy ray gun, the Buck Rogers XZ-31 Rocket Pistol (Daisy, 1934). Can you name the rest?

As I have few rifles, the ones I own are very nice examples. The Sub-Machine Gun made by Ideal in the Forties is one that stands out. The use of marbled brown plastic to mimic grained wood is particularly eye-catching, as is the futuristic styling. It's not just another machine gun re-worked with a few fins (like the Radar Raider). I also love how the recoil action gives the gun a sense of realism.

The Atomic Ray Pistol (Tudor Rose, 1950s) is another great design. It has all the dials, fins and sliding power-levers a kid could ask for -- even the “screws” were accurately sculpted into the mold. I own the bronze color version, which is harder to find  than the silver one. [No kidding! I'm jealous! -- Doc] I like the fact that it is also a full-scale gun. Many toy guns were designed smaller for a child’s grip, but this fits nicely in my hand.

Of my European pistols, two in particular stand out as favorites. Both are small red plastic guns: a dart gun produced by Gyper in Spain, and a water pistol made by COMA in Italy. The designs are unusual, and both are fairly difficult to find. Uniqueness definitely adds to the attraction, knowing that these are hard to come by. A collector always wants a few pieces that perhaps few people have. 

A stunningly designed water pistol by the Italian company COMA.

Wow, that's quite a collection. What was your first vintage ray gun?

It would have to be XZ-31 Buck Rogers Rocket Pistol made by Daisy in 1934. I remember it being the first space gun I recognized as a true classic. I had seen it on the Toy Ray Gun website (www.toyraygun.com) and thought it just screamed “vintage.” If I was going to start a collection, I would begin with one of the cornerstones of the genre. At the time, the guns were fairly common and could be had at a reasonable price -- I think it cost me $100 and change. 

When I got it, it was like holding a museum piece. I was instantly struck by the weight and heft of the pistol. This was not like any toy I ever had as a kid; in the late Fifties the guns were tin or plastic [The XZ-31 is pressed steel -- Doc]. I very carefully cocked the gun and pulled the trigger -- I was startled by the resounding pop, it was really loud. I found it incredible that a child’s toy from the 1930’s was made this well, and still worked.

Are there any pieces in your collection that you never expected to own?

Surprisingly, there are two -- a robot and a gun. The robot is a Space Giant Robot (Tomy, 1960s). A very nice toy from a child’s standpoint -- it’s big, 29 inches tall, it came in a cardboard toolbox, and you assembled it with a wrench and big red nuts and bolts. The robot is easy to move: aside from it’s wheeled feet, it is made of blown-in-mold plastic and is surprisingly lightweight. It also has handles on the shoulders that allow the arms to be moved up and down, and a trigger that opens the claws. 

I first saw this jumbo toy in a grainy, black and white photo of an old toy store, in a Japanese collector’s magazine. You almost couldn’t make it out, back against the wall, piled behind hundreds of other toys. It was so perfectly classic, a true blockhead robot, and really large. I figured I’d never find one, I’d never seen it before, and no one I spoke with could identify it.

Not one but two Robots by Tomy (1960s). The golden one on the right is particularly rare.

Ten years passed, and I was trolling through eBay late one night...and there it was!  "Wait, this couldn’t be it...Yes, it is! Oh my gosh, I gotta have it! Let’s see, how much can I afford? Well, I can skip meals for a few weeks, no movies, walk to work... Hmmm, this could work, just don’t tell the wife (it has taken her 15 of our 21 years of marriage to come to terms with my toy obsession)." I bid, I won, I paid, and I waited for what seemed like an eternity. Then the package arrived: Eureka! He’s mine, all mine! (cue the childish glee).

And the gun?

Well, that was just recently, in fact. Over the last 15 years or so, I’ve spent many hours researching space guns on the Toy Raygun website, and one in particular grabbed my attention. It was made by Ranger Steel Products in the Fifties, a variation on their popular sparkling Cosmic Ray Gun line, but it was like no pistol I’ve ever seen before. It was a cross between a raygun and a Buck Rogers-era cruiser. Made of orange plastic, with yellow fins and a clear red barrel, it was an absolutely stunning design! Unfortunately, I chalked it up as another “untouchable." These kinds of toys just don’t come up for sale, and when they do, well, I just know they'll be way above my level of the food chain.

So rare it hurts: The Ranger Steel ray gun.

So, there I am, locked into that damnable auction site again, the bane of my existence. Lo and behold, what appears to my watering eyes, but the gun of myth. Oh, fer crying out loud, the fates have pierced my heart yet again, dangling my hopes above the jagged rocks, only to snip the golden thread, sending me to my doom (well, it wasn’t exactly like that, but you get the idea).

How would I pay for it? I’ll think of something, but I can’t pass up the opportunity. So I set my maximum bait, and waited for a nibble, and bite they did. I couldn’t watch, I checked in to my eBay page after the war was over, and slowly scrolled down to the “won” photos. Oh geeze, is that the orange tip of the gun’s rear fins?! Yes, ha! I got it. Oh my gosh, now I have to pay for it. Well, I suppose it was worth it, and I can’t wait to hold it in my hand...Zap...Zap, POW!!

When did you start collecting?

Collecting was a natural for me, I’m a pack rat. My Mom started me early, taking me to garage sales and flea markets as a kid and it stuck. Originally, I collected antiques, but didn’t start with toys until I was well out of college and on my second marriage (yes, second, which proves I’m not too smart either). It started innocently enough, when someone gave me this ugly little troll-like figure. I began noticing other painfully ugly figures in shops and stores, and picked them up. This was around the time that the Spawn line was gaining steam, producing monsters and demons. I began calling it my “ugly toy collection.” The rest, as they say, is history.

An unusual, ball-firing ray gun. Note the feeder tube on top with the cut-out lightning bolts.

My passion for ray guns grew out of an innocent accidental discovery of the Toy Ray Gun website. It was a visual and historical feast. I remembered space guns from my childhood, but I had no idea there were so many varieties. I began emailing the great Gene Metcalf, a heck of a nice guy, and a truly passionate collector. [And author of the book Ray Gun -- Doc] We struck up an electronic, long-distance friendship. After a while, I was hooked, happily and hopelessly. Within a year I had gone from no guns to over 75 pieces. Then, one day Gene told me he was selling the entire collection, and turning over the site to someone else, I was thunderstruck. We talked a few times after that, but unfortunately, the emails grew fewer and farther between, until we just stopped.

The red Pow'r Pop gun (Glenn, 1951). Chieffi also has the original cork!

A fine example of the Rex Mars Signal gun (Marx, 1950s).

What advice would you pass on to another collector?

To quote an old, dear dealer friend who passed away many years ago, "If you are doing this to get rich, you are in the wrong business." Collecting, while a sometimes troubling itch that can’t be scratched, is an exuberant experience understood by few. It’s not what the item is worth intrinsically, but what it is worth to you. Is that toy you’re looking at really worth $100? Or, perhaps, much more, with the excitement of the hunt and blissful joy of the acquisition? Someone else may say it’s overpriced, but to you, your inner child -- oh man, it’s priceless! 

Search, think, and pace yourself. Remember, buy the best you can afford, but buy what you love, because if you don’t love it, no price, no matter how high or low, will make it worth anything.