PLUSH
I have a very hard time getting rid of anything, but on occasion I must; I simply collect too many things. My man-cave is only so big, hell, my apartment is only so big, and with the never-ending swell of new comics, movies, and action figures I am quickly running out of space. This does not mean that I’m going to start shipping off my action figures or comic books so don’t bother asking. I have however accepted that every few months, maybe twice a year, I need to purge myself of a few things. I’ve been selling off comics and graphic novels by the box load over the past year and its getting easier each time. I’ve sold off a few toys here and there as well and I’m always thinning the closet of clothes that no longer fit my fat ass. On a recent purge I went through a bin containing my Toy Biz Marvel figures. That collection has already been thinned out considerably and I don’t plan on getting rid of any more. However, resting atop the brightly colored 90s super heroes lies the remains of my once mighty plush empire. 
As a kid I had a ton of stuffed animals and I loved every one of them. I loved my Joes and Transformers too but with stuffed animals it was different; the stuffed animals felt more like friends. Every time I part with one of them I get sentimental and a small part of me hopes that they’re not mad at me. When I watch Toy Story 3 my eyes always water up as the unwanted toys are drawn into the incinerator, and it’s not because Woody and the gang are about to bite it. It’s because it makes me think of all my old pals, Longnose the elephant, Lobby the lobster, Jack the owl, and others whom I have sent to the landfill. Only three of my old bedmates remain with me: Mack, Champ, and Popcorn.
But my Marvel bin is topped with more than just those three long-time friends, it’s also padded with a few other plushes that I’ve accumulated over the years as an adult. This fella here, Chim-Chim, falls into that category. (FYI: I named Chim-Chim after a Dave Chappelle joke. At the time I didn’t realize that Dave had borrowed the name of the monkey from Speed Racer.)
Now there’s not much to review here per-say. He’s a small, white, stuffed monkey with suction cup hands. I suppose he’s meant for a car window or something. There’s no denying that he’s a cute little bugger with those big black eyes and devilish grin. My ex-girlfriend Nicole bought him for me when she vacationed in Ireland. I think she picked him up at a zoo or something. It was early on in our relationship and I think she wanted to get me something but we weren’t at the elaborate gift giving stage at that point in time. Chim-Chim was a fine souvenir and I appreciated the gesture.
But that was a long time ago. Nicole and I are still good friends but our romance has long since come to an end. And Frankly, while this stuffed monkey is cute, it holds no sentimental value to me. And so, as I was looking to thin out some of my storage bins last week, Chim-Chim ended up in the discard pile.
I was about to bag him up and send him on his way when suddenly I paused. Chim-Chim wasn’t with me back when I was 6 years old and assigning personalities to all of my belongings so he never felt “alive” to me, but with this blog I have a venue to at least pay him some sort of tribute before saying good-bye. By taking some pictures and immortalizing Chim-Chim online I’d like to think that in some way it atones for me sending so many of my beloved childhood stuffed animals to the incinerator. So I bid you safe travels Chim Chim, I take comfort in the fact that you’ll be bagged with a few other plush rejects (to be covered later) so you’ll have a hand to hold, like Buzz and Woody did, as you make your way to that Irish Jungle in the sky. R.I.P.