“We all drive off the road sometimes when it comes to wantin’ to go home, Huffer! Ain’t nothin’ else that can eat at your insides like that feelin’!”
In his book The Man Who Invented Saturday Morning, David Owen delves into the social and economic forces that shaped kid’s programming in the United States, with an emphasis on the industry landscape in the early 1980s. Long story short: by the late 1960s, parents who were concerned about television’s influence on their children started to go after shows they considered too violent for younger eyes and shows that muddled the line between education and marketing (Romper Room with its habit of hawking its own branded merch during the show was one of their earliest targets). Action for Children’s Television (ACT) was the largest of these groups, with about 20,000 volunteer members at its peak, and it deserves the credit (or blame) for pressuring the TV networks in the late ’60s to drop “violent” shows like Herculoids and Space Ghost in favor of Scooby-Doo and other lighter, more comedy/fantasy fare.
These advocacy groups are the biggest reason why network programming schedules in the 1970s wasn’t filled with cartoons like The Pet Rock Show or The Stretch Armstrong Power Hour; back then, any program starring a toy would have been categorized as an advertisement, and there were strict rules about how many minutes of children’s programming could be devoted to commercials. (Concerned parents weren’t alone in monitoring the airwaves, either; when ABC aired Hot Wheels — a cartoon based on Mattel’s popular line of toy cars — in 1969, Mattel’s competitors filed a complaint with the Federal Communications Commission, arguing the show was a 30-minute ad for Mattel and should be logged as such by the stations that aired it.)
| “The Next Best Thing to Being There!” The Transformers #10 November 1985 Cover Art: Kyle Baker
CREDITS |
ROLL CALL Autobots Blue Streak; Brawn; Bumblebee; Hound; Huffer; Ironhide; Jazz; Jetfire (cameo); Optimus Prime; Prowl; Ratchet; Sideswipe; Sunstreaker (cameo) Decepticons |
That all changed when Ronald Reagan came along. In 1981, the Republican president appointed Mark S. Fowler, a staunch conservative, as chairman of the FCC. Along with his Republican colleagues on the commission, Fowler dismantled many of the broadcast regulations put in place to restrict advertising to children, and the early 1980s saw educational programs like Captain Kangaroo and Kids Are People Too make way for cartoons starring GoBots, Wuzzles, Popples, Care Bears, MASK, He-Man, G.I. Joe, and every other toy on the shelves (even the Rubik’s Cube got into the action with Rubik the Amazing Cube, a cartoon about a magical Rubik’s Cube that comes to life when its puzzle is solved). ACT was not amused by this shift in the political winds — “We think the FCC has now completely disowned the nation’s children,” ACT president Peggy Charren told Newsweek in response to the changes — but given the money the toy industry was putting on the table, there was no turning back.
It wasn’t a complete defeat for those concerned parents, though. Mindful of the potential for backlash, the creators of the new crop of cartoons either kept the stories light (which was easy to do for shows starring the Care Bears or the Get Along Gang), or — for cartoons based on more action-oriented toys — tacked on public service announcements at the end of the programs to up their educational content, often in the form of a “life lesson” directly tied to the central theme of that episode (“…and knowing is half the battle!”).
Reading Transformers #10 reminded me of those little life lessons at the tail end of Mister T or G.I. Joe. While it wasn’t as blatant as He-Man calling a timeout before the end credits to chat about the power of friendship, the subplot in this story about Huffer’s homesickness and the Very Important Lesson he learns about staying focused on what matters could have been lifted from the plot for any number of ’80s cartoon episodes — and honestly, I think the comic is the better for having it. Up to this point, we’ve seen individual Transformers get their small moments to shine (Bumblebee, Ratchet, Prowl), but this early in the series it’s still a challenge connecting to the characters because there are just so many of them, mainly because the merchandising impetus behind this whole enterprise wants the comic to keep introducing new characters rather than take a breath and allow readers the chance to get to know the ones we’ve already seen. It’s to Budiansky’s credit that, in a script clearly designed to get readers excited about a new batch of Transformers on the shelves (that combine to form a big one!), he was able to sneak in a little character development where it counts.
Our story begins at Blackrock Aerospace Assembly Plant Number One, where two of the employees held hostage by the Decepticons help Shockwave complete the programming of the brain modules that Optimus Prime has infused with life against his will and construct the new bodies in which the brains will be implanted. Dubbed the Constructicons, these brand-new Decepticons immediately head out with Soundwave on their first mission: to build a “transdimensional radiowave scrambler” that the Decepticons plan to use to contact their home planet of Cybertron.
Meanwhile, Prowl gives his new ally G.B. Blackrock a tour of the Ark, and Blackrock of course immediately starts thinking to himself about the financial benefits to forming a partnership with a highly advanced technology-based species. He also raises a salient point: while humans have already seen giant robots in battle around Oregon, it might cause a worldwide panic if the public found out those robots were in fact living aliens using Earth as a battleground in their civil war. “Yes, that thought had occurred to me, too,” says Prowl, but, you know, Decepticons be Decepticons. Moving on.
Next, the two check in on Jazz as Ratchet repairs his injuries, and we meet the homesick Huffer, who’s focused on repairing the Ark’s interstellar communications system instead of doing his primary assignment: to repair the “monitoring antenna so we can eavesdrop on what the Decepticons are plotting at their aerospace plant headquarters.” That gives Blackrock an idea: he had the phones in his plant bugged to “improve security” and offers that as a way for the Autobots to spy on the Decepticons. Before they can start working on that plan, though, Bumblebee, who’s in the field keeping watch on the plant, reports in: he’s watching Laserbeak attack the military forces surrounding the plant as a diversion while Soundwave and the Constructicons move out. Prowl orders several Autobots, including Huffer, to intercept the new Decepticons and stop whatever nefarious mission they’re on.
Hey, we’re leaving Oregon! Finally! In southeastern Idaho (well, at least it’s over state lines), we catch up with Bomber Bill, a jovial trucker who’s checking in at his favorite roadside diner before heading home to see his kids. The good times come to an abrupt end, though, when Bomber Bill’s truck and several others are scooped up as raw materials by the Constructicons to… well, construct things. In one of his less wise moments, Bomber Bill decides to follow them into the woods and meets the Autobots on the way. Sensing a kindred spirit (“Bomber Bill don’t let no one keep him from goin’ home!”), Huffer offers him a ride.
The stage is set for the final action piece of the story, with the Autobots attacking the Decepticons at their construction site, only for the Constructicons to reveal their ability to combine into a super-robot named Devastator. This doesn’t turn out to be the strategic advantage its designers might have expected, though, as the combined Decepticons, while strong, are slower and more slow-witted than your average Transformer. While the other Autobots distract Devastator, Huffer moves in to destroy the giant interstellar communicator they just finished constructing out of a deep-space radio telescope, but his homesickness causes him to hesitate at the last moment, giving Soundwave enough time to begin sending his signal to Cybertron. Reunited with “ol’ Bessie,” Bomber Bill has a clear path away from the battle back to his home, but instead he steers his rig towards the giant dish and severs Soundwave’s connection. A furious Soundwave nearly slays Bill, but Huffer comes to his rescue. The Decepticons withdraw, satisfied that at least a portion of Soundwave’s message has been successfully transmitted. Huffer begs his fellow Autobots for their forgiveness and thanks Bomber Bill for his help, adding he’s glad at that at least one of them is able to go home.
“Epilogue: Decepticon headquarters, Blackrock Aerospace Planet Number One.” Shockwave prepares to give life to his next creation, the huge jet he dubs Jetfire, but when the process fails, Shockwave suspects that Optimus Prime may not have the Matrix within him. “If it turns out you can no longer provide me with the Creation Matrix,” he intones, “then it is logical that I no longer have any reason to let you continue living.” The Autobots, listening in from the Ark, ponder their next move…
Random Thoughts:
It’s been four million years since the Ark crashed on Earth; it seems a little optimistic to think anyone back on Cybertron remembers their lost compatriots, or that anyone on that planet is even still functioning. (By comparison, here on Earth, the first Australopithecus, a forerunner to us modern humans, evolved about four million years ago, with the first evidence of stone tool use emerging around 3.4 to 3.7 million years ago.) It’s possible that, being mechanical beings, Transformers don’t experience the passage of time the same way we do; it’s also possible that no one putting these stories together ever thought kids would try to comprehend just how long four million years really is.
Don’t mind me, I’m just over here adding “Soundwave and the Constructicons” to my list of potential band names.
In case you were wondering, the title of the story is a shout-out to a famous line from a long-running ad campaign that was used to promote Bell’s long-distance calling service. Here’s an ad from 1976 that ends with the line; I don’t know exactly when the phone company stopped using the line, but you can bet a lot of comic fans in the mid-1980s remembered it.
Yeah, I’m still not clear on the whole Creation Matrix business. Shockwave was able to bring the Constructicons to life with Prime’s unwilling help (something Prime himself acknowledges: “I can only bear the burden of responsibility for the evil they inflict upon this world”), yet he couldn’t do the same for Jetfire and it’s because of that he figures out Prime no longer has the Matrix. But if Prime didn’t have the Matrix all this time, how did the Constructicons come online as expected? Did I miss some crucial piece of dialogue, or is this a plot hole that Bomber Bill can drive through?
And that’s why they call it the ’80s, Part the First: Don’t ask me why, but everything was neon and glow-in-the-dark back in the Eighties. Maybe that was just the way the decade rolled, with everyone flocking to bright, cheerful, and attention-seeking colors to reflect the mood of the decade. Or maybe all the bright neon and glow-in-the-dark merch was part of a secret government plan to get more radium into the American water supply, who knows.
Right, I suppose we have to get an update on the Witwickys while we’re here. While everything else in this issue is happening, Sparkplug returns home from the hospital, and he’s pleasantly surprised to learn that Buster has cleared the garage’s backlog of repairs. Buster is unable to explain to his father how he acquired his new mechanical skills; all he knows is that ever since Optimus Prime “zapped” him, he can “move metal objects with a thought.” Cool. I’m sure that will come in handy soon.
And that’s why they call it the ’80s, Part the Second: Whoa, a 40-inch big-screen TV and remote control VCR? Talk about cutting edge tech! “Wait, this can fast-forward and rewind? Outrageous!” (Though the copy-editor nerd inside me bristles at “big screen TV’s with remote control VCR’s.” Dammit, people, these are plurals, not possessives.)
The Constructicons were the first “combiners” introduced in the Transformers G1 lineup and you can safely assume they aren’t the last ones we’ll meet in this series. The six figures were sold in two ways, together as a box set and separately on individual cards. From elsewhere on the internet: “Devastator is one of the few G1 combiners to feature a self-consistent color scheme, allowing the members to blend together visually. Despite his stature, Devastator’s size would soon be surpassed by nearly all of his combiner contemporaries.” You’ll always loom large in our hearts, Dev.
“Waitaminute! I just remembered — the phones at the plant are bugged! I devised the system to improve security there — make sure no one was saying anything they shouldn’t.” Anyone else feel like this line should get filed under “Things you hear from an employer you never want to work for”…? Now I’m imagining Blackrock starring in a Very Special Episode with the head of his Legal and HR departments.
Next Issue: “Heads up, Autobots, JETFIRE is in the air!”
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