Countdown and I revisited the site of our first date today.
It's been about 23 years. A lot has changed since then. I'm about three times my size and weight and a lot hairier. He's gone a bit yellow and very loose in the knees. But no matter. But we danced. We played. We laughed. Reminisced about the day I picked him off the shelf at the CNA (now a Clicks store in the picture), how I tore away the clear plastic bubble in the large, open area filled with plastic chairs and tables (now very claustrophobic and filled with an escalator), how I immediately lost the string and end of his grapple line. They were good times. Probably the best times.
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| Probably the shelf I took him down from. The company has changed somewhat since then, mind you. |
Countdown then went down in history as my friend Justin's favourite figure. It must have been the jet pack. Walking's for saps. Countdown's career ended rather ignobly with him being the butt of Robert and Alastair's jibes because his head sculpt was apparently very Indian. I don't see it personally. But my racist friends always gave him this comical Bangladeshi accent which had them in stitches while secretly pissing me off something awful.
Dicks.
