It’s one thing to run around the house and think that you’re Rambo, it’s another thing to try to convince others that you’re Rambo. This was the dilemma I found myself with during Halloween, 1987. This was a time when I was Rambo obsessed. Now before I get my parents in trouble, let me clarify that I had only seen parts of Rambo First Blood Part II, and had only seen the NBC edit of First Blood. For the uninitiated, Rambo also had a line of action figures, video games and even a cartoon. He was TOTALLY kid friendly. (I wonder if author David Morrell saw any of this coin?)
I remember wanting to be either Lt. Falcon from the G.I. Joe movie or Rambo. My parents still have a black beret and olive drab handkerchief/scarf for the Lt. Falcon outfit, but I clearly remember being SUPER disappointed by not getting a SGT. Slaughter costume together for my little bro. Buying costume pieces was a lot more expensive then, than it is today.
“Plan B” was to dress up as Rambo. It was easy: Pants, boots, knife, headband.
Lose the shirt and we’re good to go.
To bad it was REALLY cold.
And Rambo DOESN’T WEAR A JACKET!
And I was REALLY scrawny. I was embarrassed and ashamed by how “unRambo” I actually was.
I gave up. Halloween was bust. The night that only comes around once a year waits for no kid. You can be sick on a Christmas or a birthday and just open your presents the next day. But not Halloween. Have you ever seen a kid walk around the neighborhood on November 1st because he was absent for Halloween? Me neither.
Thankfully, my mom had a plan C (It hadn’t occurred to me to plan past B) and I was a scarecrow: straw hat, shirt stuffed with straw. Piece of cake.
And my little brother dawned the headband and was RAMJOE! Too bad I can’t put my hands on some pics.
It was one thing to run around the house playing Rambo; thinking you looked like Rambo. It was completely different coming to terms that you’re a pale a skinny nine year old.
But this hasn’t been a problem since I’ve been “First Blood Part II” shredded.
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