Thou shalt not covet thy son's toy…

Since college, I have felt secure in the adult-ness of my chosen hobbies. I read, I cook, I game, and I document stupefyingly complicated plotlines for stories that will never get turned into novels.

And I blog. Perfectly grown-up pursuits.

My son's recent birthday has put a real dent in this worldview.

Put another way: He got some seriously righteous bling – and it's all I can do to not monopolize it.

The chief offender is his new spaceship.

Specifically, it's the Eta-2 Actis-class light interceptor – sometimes called the Jedi Starfighter (although that label can also apply to the earlier, Delta-7 Aethersprite).

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Okay stop right there. I am NOT a Star Wars geek.

Just want to get that out there. I had to look those names up on Wookiepedia.

Yes, I actually did look them up, but that was for this post – alright?
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Where was I?

Okay – the idea of having a few plane models in the house has always been something that appealed to me. I was a military brat, and have always been hooked on military hardware. (I have back issues of Soviet Military Power and World Air Power Journal to prove it.)

Two problems with this:

First – I am not a pilot and have no connection to one. Were I to realize the dream of having a fully articulated F-14 model sitting on a shelf in my study – it would only provoke the question "were you a pilot?" – and I'd have to say no, I just like toy planes.

Second – all the toy planes out there just plain suck.

Admittedly, my standards are pretty high. Any plane I'd deem worthy would meet the following criteria:

• It should accurately represent the real thing. The intakes and engines should be deep, the markings should appear genuine. Working running lights and dashboard would be a nice plus
• It should have working bits. Gear should deploy, swing wings should swing, canopies should open. If nothing moves, it's just a statue. Statues aren't fun.
• It should be durable. I don't mean just plastic or metal. I mean plastic and metal that take into account that some might pick this up and zoom around the house with it (strictly for educational purposes – some visitor might say "how does the pilot get in?" and I'd show them. You know.)

What?

• It should have heft. This is one that disqualifies all models and virtually every toy plane on the market.

What do I mean by this? Allow me to illustrate:

Here's a toy whale:

If you dropped it on your foot – you'd break the whale. No heft.

Here's a toy whale from Schleich:

This whale weighs almost a full pound. Drop this on your foot – you'll hurt your foot. (Schleich understands heft).

A good toy plane should feel like its carrying a belt of 30mm and a full tank of gas.

More toy manufacturers need to understand heft as a buying motivation.

*steps off soapbox*

So there we are: Can't justify having a model plane in the house; wouldn't buy most of what's out there anyway.

But then there's the boy's new toy – the aforementioned Eta-2:

Let's review:

Accurately represents the real thing?
There is no real thing, so it pretty much gets a pass. If you compare it to the visuals in the movie:

– I think you'd say it's holding up its end:

It even has stickers for the dashboard, wing insignias and smoke stains trailing from the cannons. Rock. On.

Working bits?
Hell yeah – the cockpit opens, the gear folds down, the wings pop open with a satisfying clatter. It even has missiles.

Durable?
Squat body, not a lot of pointy bits – and the nose is made out of rubberized plastic in case it hits the ground nose-first. Nice.

Heft? 
Yes! Feels like it's carrying a to-scale load of whatever they use in Star Wars for gas.

Home run.

I had to go out and buy a pilot for it (for the boy, I mean. He did ask for one). Soon as I find a good R2 figure, I might replace the replica that the ship came with…

What?!

Oh, don't you judge me.