Gosh, but I loved my Evil Knievel.
Surprised, aren't 'cha?
The girl who wanted to grow up and be Miss America - well - she also wanted to be a daredevil too.
Watch the video....and remember.
Of course what they don't show you is that frickin' plastic piece that had grooves on it and you would have to pull it out of the back of the contraption where you wound him up and then zinnnng...off he went.
Constructing an incline was close to rocket science. You see, although you may have wanted to stack and tilt anything you could get your hands on, in reality, there was only so much that the Evil K man could over come.
We had to play around with the degrees of tilt and height. Uh-huh. Physics at nine years old. Go figure.
Important things that were pondered during my ninth year of life.
How far would he go before he wiped out?
How come I could never get my Evil K man to stand up like the commercial?
What kind of crap would he ziiiiing over - but you know - still keep on going? Because if he stopped, all of the fun was over.
* Side note: things that made Evil K man stopped dead in his tracks included large amounts of clothing (which meant - I had to throw my dirty clothes off to the side so I had some space); text books (wipe out city); and shoes (too steep of a mountain to get over without some serious lift-off ahead of time).
In case you're wondering, I also had the Evil Knievel space ship and that had lots of power but it wasn't nearly as agile as the stunt bike.
Oh - and yes - I did undress him because when he became the husband of one of my Dawn dolls - well - he had to change clothing for the wedding and stuff.
2 years ago
1 comments:
I just discovered this blog.This is a cool Blog, I love it. I had one of those Evil Knevil toy's also. My friends and I would play with it on the sidewalk in front of the house on Stophlet St in West Central. I also had a big yellow Tonka dump truck in which I put one knee and powered down the same street woth the other, but that is another blog entry. Keep up the god work and memories.
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