How G.I. Joe (actually COBRA Night Raven) Killed Santa Claus

As everyone knows the new Transformers movie is coming out soon. I took this opportunity to dust off my old TF comic books from the garage and bring them inside. Since the commercials are on TV more often now my kids have caught on to the fact that this is something marketed to them. Only one problem: they are girls.

How sexist of me, I know.

But when I was growing up and amassing my Transformers toys and comic books I don't remember girls coming over to play or meeting up with them at the comic shops. Still, somehow, my girls are interested because they know that toys are associated with the movie (Darn you Madison Avenue!!!!) and I casually mentioned to them that I still have some TF toys in boxes out in the garage.

Big mistake!

Now it's an everyday inquisition: "Have you gone to the garage yet Dad?" "Did you get your Transformers yet Dad?" "Can we see them now Dad????" So on Tuesday I decided to wade through that jungle that is a West Coast garage (cars not allowed!) and look for old toys that have somehow moved with me 6 times since I left home.

I found my old Sega Genesis and some old Zoobooks the kids might like. I also stumbled across my original Millenium Falcon looking a little worse for wear. Underneath the Falcon was a black garbage bag. When I opened it up the memories, which make up the crux of this story, came flooding back.

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When I was 9 or 10 and in Cub Scouts or Webelos or something my Mom was a "Den Mother" and we were having a meeting at my house. Somehow the subject of Santa Claus came up and I stated that I still believed in Santa. Instantly it was like I was on the outside of some inside knowledge that everyone knew but me. I had never heard of any other kids not believing up to this point, but they all knew something I didn't. The adults handled it well, but there was some level of mutual shock felt between me and the boys. Even my best friend Mike didn't believe!

So it got me to thinking.... What it if wasn't true? Santa not real? Who's leaving presents?!?!!

Christmas season came and the big ticket item on my list was the Raven: a sleek looking plane that reminded me of the stealth bombers I had just heard about the military having. It was expensive and I knew that the most expensive gifts were always given by Santa.

One day I was at my dad's office and he stepped out to go talk to someone. I played around on his desk and dropped something behind the desk. I crawled on top of it, looked behind the desk, and there in a shopping bag was the Raven box! Homina homina homina...I was getting it for Christmas! w00t! I casually picked up whatever it was and went back to playing.

My dad came in the door a few moments later and we went home. On the way home he said, "Now son I completely forgot but I had a Christmas present for you in my office. If you've seen it I want you to tell me and we'll just give it to you now. Did you see anything?"

My heard was racing! What could I say? I'd hate to spoil the surprise. And there's something anticlimactic about getting gifts early...especially one of this magnitude!

"No," I lied. And that was that. My dad didn't say anything else. Remembering back now I know my dad had a huge window in his office on the wall that the desk was up against. And I think he was talking out in that hallway that the window opened up to, so it's not unthinkable that he could have seen my entire escapade. But he never let on that he knew. It's one of those things I wish I could have asked him...

Anyway, cut to Christmas Eve (we used to open our gifts on Christmas Eve then wake up to Santa gifts in the morning) and I opened all of my gifts. Surprisingly none of them were in huge boxes and the Raven was nowhere to be found! I had a sinking pit in my stomach but I had to put on the happy face because I couldn't show that I knew there was another gift coming.

Santa used to always leave notes on Christmas morning after eating the cookies and drinking the milk. That year I had studied my dad's handwriting so I would know for sure if he left the note. We went through the milk and cookies routine and I went to bed. My heart was pounding in my chest. I was about to uncover the greatest mystery of my short life!

In front of the fireplace the next morning, as you can guess, was the COBRA Night Raven in all its glory. I was elated and devastated all at the same time. I checked the note on our fireplace mantle and it was written in cursive. My dad always wrote in BLOCK letters....I was foiled! But the jig was up at that point. I knew the real deal and that was the last year "Santa" visited me.

I never said anything to my parents but there seemed to be some sort of understanding because I didn't do the milk & cookies thing after that. I hung the Raven from the ceiling in my bedroom and though it was fully assembled I never played with it. My sister came along a few years later and we got to start the tradition again but that darned COBRA commander and his unquenchable thirst for military aircraft killed my Santa Claus.

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Languishing in that black trash bag for umpteen years was the Night Raven. I pulled it out briefly and saw a layer or two of dust on top. It seemed to be intact with many accessories at the bottom of the bag. The moment I touched it all the memories I just shared with you came flooding back. The mind is a funny thing....

I put the Raven back in the bag, then back in the box underneath the Millenium Falcon. I grabbed the Zoobooks, turned out the light and locked the garage door.

Transformers treasure hunting would have to wait for another day.