Television Spaceman (Alps / 1961 / Japan / 13 inches)

When I first became interested in vintage robots, one toy kept catching my eye: The Television Spaceman. With its purple-tinted visor, those weird, golden, bulging eyes, a myriad of flashing lights, and that fantastic TV in its chest, I could never figure out whether it was created by a drug addict, or just a run-of-the-mill lunatic. Regardless, whoever came up with the robot should get a medal (and maybe a month or two of free treatment) for even conceiving of such a fun and engaging toy, much less getting the company to actually produce the damn thing. 

This is one of my earliest pick-ups -- one of the first three, actually -- and set the bar high for what a robot should be able to do when you pop in a couple batteries and power it up. Besides walking, the Television Spaceman has a light-up, scrolling TV, spinning eyes, space sounds, and a color-wheel just underneath its face. It also makes a lot of noise, in case all the flashing and motion isn't enough to drive children over the edge.

The Television Spaceman underwent a few small tweaks over the years, starting in 1966. The most noticeable is Alps' switch from tin to plastic legs, feet, and battery door. They also replaced the antenna, going from a metal one shaped something like a cross to the "fry basket" style found on this example. On the plus side, the company increased the size of the robot's TV screen, which, as far as I'm concerned, outweighs any of the changes in material that might otherwise turn off some collectors. 

The Television Spaceman isn't a tough robot to find; the toy was popular enough that Alps made thousands of them during its production run. With so many floating around today, prices remain reasonable, making the robot an easy one for new collectors to add to their shelves. 

Top-Shelf Titans: The Andrew Klein Interview

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

Mixing the excitement of youth with the eye of a seasoned pro, Andrew Klein has leapt enthusiastically into the world of vintage space toys to create a collection impressive in both size and scope. He's a man who knows what he wants, tending to focus on robots and the occasional tank or tractor -- if they're driven by robots! And don't bother looking for any astronauts. As Andy says, "A robot toy, in my mind, could be 'real,' while a toy with a litho face clearly could not be a little man inside a wind-up body. In fact," he adds, "for some reason I can't explain, robots with faces kind of give me the creeps!"

DOC ATOMIC So what attracts you to these toys?

ANDREW KLEIN I suppose, as is the case with many other collectors, toy robots appeal to the kid in me. I’m 39 years old and have been interested in robots and science fiction related toys since the mid-Seventies. Star Wars really ignited my passion with R2-D2. I was fortunate that my mother enjoyed science fiction as well and, for birthdays, would give me Japanese imported die-cast robots as gifts. I still have a couple of them today. One of my favorites is Brain-3 from the UFO Commander series. Another aspect that both attracts me and keeps me interested in the hobby is the quality of design that went into these toys. They were built to stand on their own rather than to be sold in conjunction with a movie release or television show. They are unique to this day.

Some of Klein's collection. How many can you name? (All photos by Andrew Klein)

 

When did you start collecting?

I had been collecting on and off since I was a kid. This meant I would pick up a robot at a novelty shop if I though it was neat and I’d throw it on my shelf. I really started collecting in earnest somewhere around 1995. I received a copy of the Sotheby's Matt Wyse auction catalog and fell in love with robots I never knew existed. I was amazed because, prior to seeing that catalog, I thought I was an expert on toy robots. How little I knew! The truth is I’m still learning today and hope that I’ll never stop!

What's your approach to collecting? 

While my general collection rule is “collect what you like and what appeals to you," I do have a couple of guidelines I stick to (so far). First, I only collect robots. My second rule is that, with rare exceptions, I only collect toys that were designed and sold as toys. This means no statues, no models, and no art. I even have somewhat of an issue with the new robots on the market as they are not sold as toys and even come with the warning that “this is a collector’s item and not a toy. For adults only." If it wasn’t meant to be played with by a kid than I’m probably not interested in it. With that said, I do have an “Andybot” designed and built by a fellow Alphadrome (www.danefield.com/alpha) member named Andy Hill. That would be my "rare exception."

(bottom) Robby Space Patrol, a very rare "sled" style space vehicle. Also, one of more accurate toys to capitalize on the film Forbidden Planet.

Do you have a favorite toy, and is it in your collection?

I have a number of favorite pieces and, fortunately, most of them are in my collection. They would include my vintage Mr. Atomic (Cragstan, 1962), Non-Stop (a.k.a. Lavender) Robot (Masudaya, 1960), Ranger Robot (Cragstan, 1965) and Mr. Flash (Cragstan, 1960s). I also hope to own a Target Robot (Masudaya, 1965) someday. 

The wonderful Mr.Atomic was also available in a blue version. [editor's note: This is one of Doc's all-time favorite robots!]

Masudaya's Non-Stop Robot is part of the so-called Gang of Five, a group of large, skirted robots heavily desired by most collectors.  

Cragstan's Ranger Robot not only walked and made noises, but it also blew smoke. A light inside its transparent body helped show off all gears.

The Mr. Atomic and the Lavender robot were always "Holy Grail" robots that I dreamt of before I could afford the higher end toys. I had a copy of 1000 Tin Toys (by Teruhisha Kitahara, 1996) and the Sotheby's Matt Wyse auction catalog (1996) and would stare at these robots on a daily basis and fantasize about someday owning them. To this day, Mr. Atomic still has an impact on me and I’m amazed I have one sitting in my display. 

Also, the Mr. Flash is one of my favorites simply because of the design. I have both the red version and the more scarce silver version. Both are fantastic looking toys and never lose their appeal to me. 

Two versions of Mr. Flash. The silver one is rarest.

Is there any piece in your collection with a good story behind it?

I was cruising eBay when I came across a Missile Robot (Alps, Late 1960s) being sold by a guy in Argentina. It had a Buy-It-Now of $650 and looked to be in fair shape. I noticed also that this guy had re-listed the toy because of a non-paying bidder (so he says). Also, it was a bit fishy that even though the bidding on that first auction had gotten up to over $1400, he decided for a buy it now of $650. Finally, he also indicated he would only take Western Union -- no PayPal. 

Despite all that, I took the chance, thinking I made a great score on a very rare robot. We exchanged a few emails and I learned quickly that he spoke almost no English. He assured me that he would send the robot and to “trust him.” “Don’t worry,” he said. Can you smell the dramatic foreshadowing? 

Missile Man! A scarce toy.

I wired him the money plus $50 for shipping (“Is very heavy robot!” he said). A day later I received confirmation that he had picked the money up. Not long after, I got an email from him that said, “Not worry! I have not send yet! Will send tomorrow!” No problem. People get busy right? Things started to go sour after this. I sent him emails day after day with no response. After about 15 emails over the course of a month with no reply I decided to look up his phone number in Argentina through eBay. The woman who answered (who turned out to be his mother) spoke absolutely no English. I then called my brother-in-law, who speaks Spanish, and told him the story and asked for his help. 

He made several attempts and finally got through to the seller, who said, “Don’t worry. It takes up to three months to get to the United States,” and promised to email me. He never did. It became very clear to me he ripped me off. 

Well, at this point I was out over $750 in fees and payment for the robot. After feeling a bit helpless I decided I was pissed enough to take action. I Googled for an attorney in Buenos Aires that spoke English and contacted her. She agreed to take my case for a flat fee of around $200. I thought that was a great deal. Well, her involvement got this guy’s attention right away. All of a sudden I got an email asking me to take $400 back and to forget the whole thing. I told him to stuff it.  After a few weeks of back and forth my attorney managed to get my money back! She had it wired directly to my account. Turns out this guy had spent the money already and his girlfriend came in and ponied up the cash. I was amazed that I was able to resolve this.

So now at this point in the story I’m thinking I lost the robot but at least I got my money back. 

A few months later I’m on eBay and I see another Alps Missile Robot for auction! Wow! Here’s another chance for me! So I think and sweat and debate: Should I spend the money again? Well, as I keep going back to the auction to look at the picture I notice the robot looks really familiar -- same scratch marks on the tin. I go back to the old auction pictures and…can it be? Yes! It is the same robot the guy in Argentina was selling! 

I called the person holding the legit auction, which happened to be none other than [a long-time dealer named] Robert Johnson at Comet Toys. So we’re chatting about the robot and I tell him about the guy in Argentina. He says “Yeah, that’s where I got this robot!” A year and a half ago! It is now clear the Argentina guy sold it to Robert a long time ago and was using old pictures to rip me off. 

So I decide to bid. And… I lost the auction! Well, I figure this really was not meant to be. I tried to forget my frustration and disappointment at losing this robot again. A week later… It’s back on eBay! I guess Robert had a non-paying bidder. Well, this time I decided I was going to have it. I bid, and won! Now the robot sits in my display along side the other Alps robots (Moon Explorer, TV Spaceman, and Rocket Man).

Giants among robots. (clockwise from top left) Alps' Rocket Man, Moon Explorer, Missile Robot, and Television Spaceman

That's just an incredible story! Given your experiences, what advice would you pass on to a new collector?

Buy what you like. If you love it than it is worth the price. Also, never be ashamed of what you paid for a robot.  Just because it was inexpensive doesn’t mean it isn’t a great robot. The wind-up Radar Hunter is among my favorite robots and they can be had for $20 or so at any given time. If my Mr. Atomic became worthless tomorrow I wouldn’t love it any less and it would still give the same happy feeling that it does now. If another collector criticized your collection then you probably shouldn’t be listening to them any way. Always encourage other collectors and always be encouraged by other collectors. And always, always try to have fun!

Atomic Robot Man (Unknown / 1949 / Japan / 5 inches)

It all started so simply. An eBay auction. A six-inch tin robot. An extra freelance check burning a hole in my wallet. A couple clicks, some bated breath, and victory! Suddenly, after having collected reproduction tin robots for a few months, I was the proud owner of my very first vintage piece: Atomic Robot Man.



I know, you're asking yourself, "Does that freak have two of them? Has he no restraint whatsoever? Is he so depraved that he can't resist the siren call of a beautiful piece of tin?"

Well, yes, no, and, perhaps unsurprisingly to anyone who knows me, absolutely, positively, rapturously yes. But that is not why I've got two Atomic Robot Men. Before I explain what's going on, let's take a general look the A.R.M.

Atomic Robot Man first hit stands in 1949, making it the second toy robot ever produced. (The first is called Lilliput, and was produced in 1938. More on that when I actually manage to get one; it's super expensive, so don't hold your breath.) A.R.M.'s one of the more primitive robots, with a body made from basic, geometric shapes -- boxes and cylinders stacked to roughly approximate a man. His hollow eyes can't see, and yet somehow they seem to take in the world all around him. A.R.M. has a compellingly eerie personality, which might be why this is one of my all-time favorite robots. And even though one or two rank high enough to more-or-less tie, this is the robot I want to buried with.



Atomic Robot Man was available in two basic versions. The first, released in 1949, featured cast metal arms; the second had two-piece tin arms. All versions feature a key-wound pin-walking mechanism. (And no, that's not why I have two; I don't own the tin-armed version. Hold tight, all will be revealed...)


Note the pin-walking mechanism.


My A.R.M. appeared on eBay at the same time as two other robots, an Atom Robot and a Television Spaceman (more on these later). I really wanted the Atomic Robot Man because it was the model for the first reproduction tin robot I ever bought, the one that really got me hooked on the idea of old toys. But looking at those other toys... they were so cool, and I wasn't certain which was the one I really wanted at that moment.

I'd just gotten paid for a rather lengthy magazine article, and the lingering feeling of financial security is the only excuse I can think of for what I did next: I placed a bid on all three. Part of me figured I'd be lucky to win even one, so I didn't worry too much about the potential expense. And now I'm sure you can see where this is going...

Fast forward a week. The auction's about to end and, appropriately, I'm at a science fiction convention, frantically hunting for a computer so I can see which toy I won. Surprisingly (to me -- you readers can guess what comes next), I won all three.

Well, that was the end of my check, but the beginning of my collection. Years later, I can't say I mind. Since the Atomic Robot Man ended first, and arrived in the mail first, it wins the honor of being my first vintage toy. Strangely enough, I can't remember whether the Atom Robot or the Television Spaceman showed up next. Let the record show that they're tied for second.

"Nice story, Doc. Now, you degenerate, care to tell us why you've got two of the little buggers?"

Certainly. First, let's flip them around:




The second Atomic Robot Man, on the right, is known as the Science Fiction A.R.M. on account of the stamp adorning it's back, which says "Souvenir of the New York Science Fiction Conference." This is an extremely rare variation, one of only two three known examples. The first resided until recently in the collection of Bob Lesser (long-time readers will remember Bob from the post of two days ago...). He got it from the great science fiction collector, fan, and publisher Gerry de la Ree. It sold at the Lesser auction to a guy I know. Mine came from a woman who originally obtained it from legendary science fiction and fantasy artist Roy G. Krenkel. (Let's pause to reiterate that: Mine was originally owned by Roy G. Krenkel. If you don't know who he is, I suggest a Google search.)



So what's the big deal? What's the stamp mean? Why were all the known examples originally owned by science fiction bigwigs? Why would it drive me to own a toy I've already got sitting on my shelves? Before we get to that, let's drag out the pain just a bit longer to compare the two toys more directly. Besides the stamp, there were a number of cosmetic differences, including color and lithographic details:




Two A.R.M.s. The SF version is on the right.



Spot the differences in the chest litho. The SF A.R.M. is on the bottom.


Alright, alright. Now, finally: The Stamp.

As it says, the toy was used as a giveaway at the New York Science Fiction Conference, which was held in 1950, from June 1-3, in New York City at the Henry Hudson Hotel. Also known as Hydracon, it was sponsored by the Hydra Club, a group of New York science fiction luminaries that included Frederik Pohl, Lester Del Rey, William Tenn, David Kyle, and many others. (For more on the Hydra Club, see David Kyle's wonderful essay "The Legendary Hydra Club" in Mimosa Magazine: jophan.org/mimosa/m25/kyle.htm.)

As for why the toy only seems to appear in the collections of old-school, hardcore science fiction guys, that can be explained easily enough: They were the ones who not only went to Hydracon, but also had obsessive enough personalities to hold on to the swag they got at the convention.

So... What about my need to own the toy against all better financial judgement? As some may have figured out, I'm a huge science fiction fan. More so, I'm a fan of classic science fiction. I enjoy reading it, I enjoy reading about it. I go out of my way to speak with that authors from that era -- it's only stalking if they catch you hiding in their closets -- so that I can hear first hand what it was like in the days before overt, crass commercialization took hold of science fiction and (nearly) throttled the sense of wonder out of it. I find no fantasy more alluring than the one where I use a time machine to go back to one of these old conventions. (Okay, shooting myself with an Inviso-Ray and then hanging out in Anne Francis' dressing room while she made all those costume changes during the shooting of Forbidden Planet ranks a very, very close second.)

For me, the SF Atomic Robot Man is a tangible link to not only the past, but to a specific time and place in the past. It is that time machine, one that connects me to Roy Krenkel and everyone else at Hydracon. To have the time machine take the shape of one of my favorite robots is icing on the cake.

I'll admit something: I debated selling my first A.R.M. when I won the SF variation. The latter cost me almost three times what I paid for the former, and even acknowledging the sweet deal I got on that first toy (the eBay gods were smiling on me that day), the new one cost me some serious cash. Selling my A.R.M. would inject some vital funds into my bank account.



But I just couldn't do it. As much as I love the SF A.R.M., I don't think anything can compare to the weird, special magic of that first toy, the one that sets up what has since become a major source of pleasure in my life.



So I keep them both on my shelf, side by side, two tin peas in a Swedish glass, metal, and chipboard pod. Can't get much nicer than that, right?