Airfix

The announcement of the sad demise of Airfix has hit me particularly hard. One of the last links with my far distant childhood is likely to disappear and with it any lingering doubt that I'm now, officially, middle-aged.

The hours I used to spend gluing them things together, applying decals, reading incomprehensible instructions *sigh* happy days. Maybe I'm an Engineer today because of those instruction sheets, helpfully split into 346 easy steps.

Fondest memories are naturally for the Lancaster Bomber as it was a good size, with movable gun turrets, 4 engines, complicated undercarriage and evil looking in black plastic didn't need painted. "Daa daa dee da" how on earth can Peter Jackson remake the Dambusters without the aid of a squadron of 1:72 scale Airfix Lancaster Bombers dangling from black cotton thread from his Mum's sewing basket? CGI just doesn't cut it, he needs the whiff of glue for the real experience.

But for me the name Airfix means one thing above all others. HOO scale plastic soldiers. Thanks to eBay I've a cupboard full of them upstairs which I bought a few years ago to get in touch with the child in me. I had, literally, thousands of those little blue boxes when I were a lad. WWII was my favourite period for the figures. British Commandos, German Afrika Korp, Ghurkas, US Marines... fantastic. Hour upon hour of fun, lost in my own little world. Computer games? Pah! meaningless pish.

I blame the bitch thatcher.

Category:

• Personal
• Toys