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Later that evening, back home, as I recuperated on the settee, my mother came back from the shops with a CHERILEA DALEK as a gift for my stricken self, still dazed from the thump to my head and the loss of the blood which had run down my face like an avalanche of crimson snow. It had looked worse than it was, of course, but I was only about nine or ten and, to me, it felt as if I'd been involved in a major accident. I had a scar on my forehead that's still visible to this day, and I yet have the stitches as a memento, although it took me 19 years to reclaim them after inadvertently leaving them behind when we moved house four or five years later.
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But that's another tale. The Cherilea Dalek was an odd toy. It consisted of three main parts (not counting the appendages), and was an ill-fitting and not very accurate representation of DOCTOR WHO's arch-enemies The DALEKS. It came in an assortment of colours that could be swapped from one to another, depending on just how many of them you were lucky enough to have. As far as I remember, it was only available in WOOLWORTH'S, and I owned several of them at different stages. If I recall rightly, the one my mother brought home wasn't the first I had, but it's the only one that has a story to accompany it. Whether it's a story worth telling is another matter, but we Bloggers need material to write about, so you're stuck with it.
Anyway, yesterday, I took possession of a single replacement for all those I had as a child. I couldn't say if its colour matches any of my previous ones, but hey - it's an actual, Cherilea Dalek from Woolies and these things don't grow on trees. So say hello to my new pal, and if you have any memories of having this toy, feel free to share them with your fellow Criv-ites in the captivating comments section.
10 comments:
Me and my pal had these, and what I remember most is that almost without fail we'd end up losing one or other of the arm and eye pieces. Usually some unsuspecting member of our families would tread on them in their stockinged feet a few days later.
Maybe it's my faulty memory, but I seem to remember that mine was a solid dark colour - maybe blue or black - from top to bottom, and didn't have the different colour in the middle.
Your Dalek may well have been all one colour, GB. Some of mine were, but that was because I swapped the pieces between them to make them that way. I even swapped bits around in Woolies to get the colour I wanted. I'll have to track down some more - I fancy an all gold one.
Yes, the gold ones were nice, although I always had a fondness for the black one. In fact, we all did, I think.
At various times in the primary school playground, depending on which character we were playing at being, we would all choose a different colour to be; so if it was Doctor Who, someone would be a red Dalek, someone blue, and so on. Same with Captain Scarlet, Captain Black, Captain Blue ... Same with Batman, who would occasionally wear coloured costumes. I was particularly fond of his rainbow outfit. We even chose which Thunderbird we wanted to be based on colour preference - most wanted to be 1 or 3, but there was always some who liked 2 and 4.
(Ah, dearie me! How easily we could entertain ourselves back then, with nary a penny to spend between us.)
GB's so right about the appendages - somewhat akin to a daddy long legs' legs! I once lost one on a Saturday evening, playing with it in a bus shelter. But, the following Monday morning there it was, still on the floor, unnoticed by everyone!
Nice to hear they were reunited, JP.
I liked the black Dalek as well, GB, but having a two-thirds gold one, it would be nice to complete the colour. There were different versions of the heads - the one I got yesterday has the head that I remember.
Great story Kid, I think most of us have had an accident running around to the shops for toys and /or comics I split my knee (still have the scar) running to the newsagents to get a comic (my lasting recollection being the stinging of the iodine dabbed on my knee by my mum accompanied by a sweet and a big hug from her) had to laugh and your mention of the old biddies, so true - nowadays a claim would be put in against the council my the kids parents - my gawd you still have your stiches!!! wow you will collect anything wont you lol - I remember the Cherilea Daleks and think I had one but my memory is cloudy on the details - I certainly recall the Cherilea Batman and Robin figures you feature previously - great stuff again.
I kept my stitches in a little plastic case for a pencil sharpener, which was kept (along with other items) inside a Tonibell Miniball. That was kept up in the loft behind the water tank, and was inadvertently left behind when we moved house in '72. In '91 I gained access to the loft (bribery was involved) and I reclaimed my Miniball with all its contents. I had been the last and the first person to touch it in nearly 20 years. Wow, eh?
Collect anything, McScotty? Nonsense! Now, would you like to see my collection of all my poos from 1971?
Never had one of these, but I did swap my friend something (can't remember exactly what, but I'd guess it was some comics) for a broken Palitoy talking Dalek with no appendages.
I used my technical knowhow to repair his voice mechanism (OK, I poked around with a screwdriver til he started talking - quite unexpected the first time it happened!), made replacement arms out of blue school straws with bits of Lego standing in for the sucker and eye-camera, and painted the whole thing black and silver. He looked fantastic.
Regrettably, I gave him away when, in my early twenties, I took the foolish decision to grow up, although I've been doing my best to undo the whole growing-up thing in recent years.
I did something similar at some stage in my life, DD. Got rid of most of my remaining childhood things because I considered myself too old. (Anything that survived only did so because it was 'lost' in a box in the loft somewhere.) Years later, I realised that I missed them and started acquiring replacements. I was a late teenager when the Palitoy talking Dalek first came out, so I never bought it ('though I was tempted). I've got one now, fully working and boxed - cost me £50 back in the early '90s or thereabouts.
Who wants to grow up anyway? Most grown-ups are boring farts.
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