A Test of My Metal Mettle

Power Bots Bumblebee finally showed up in my area/store yesterday. After calling Prime and hearing a "No, don't buy him yet" I squirreled one away for safe keeping.

Now you would think that knowing I have a brand new Bumblebee waiting for me would make this one of the best days ever. It didn't. In fact, it was one of the worst days ever. After dealing with so much stupidity it nearly made my head explode, I went back and retrieved my prize.

"Man, did I ever earn you today," I thought as I placed Bumblebee in my cart.
Then it hit me; I've always had to earn my Bumblebees. Nearly everyone of them came to me during a "bad time".

The first Bumblebee I ever purchased was a KMart Legends version, which was basically the Pretender sans the shell. I was 14, a freshman in high school and had just had a really shitty week. I had no friends and felt utterly lost and alone. And like an angel on high, I found this little Bumblebee. He's almost 20 years old now, beaten to hell and loved to death, but he's still with me. He's been through my parents' near divorce, my awkward high school years. and the hellish relationship with my ex; he was the only "stable" thing I had at those times.

My G2 Bumblebees have a bit of drama attached to them (yes, I got two; don't ask); I purchased them both while I was still "recovering" from the recent death of my grandfather. The year leading up to their purchase had not been a good one; it was one family crisis after another. Again, it was as if the universe itself said, "All right, you've had enough pain. It's time to make you feel a little bit better."

Then came my Actionmaster.
My Actionmaster Bumblebee was purchased online in May of 1998, right smack in the middle of what I affectionately call the Year of Hell. The Year of Hell was a span of time between October 30, 1997 and November 1, 1998 when I was going through the hideously long and painful process of breaking up with my ex. I had already hit rock bottom once when I bought the little guy; he would be treated to me having a full blown depressive fit in October of that year. Again, the fact that I had these Bumblebees, these little transforming robots, was the most stable thing in my life at that point. It seemed the world was crashing around me and the only things I had to hold onto were them.

Then came Goldbug.
Goldbug was the first "gift" I had ever received; Prime bought him for me at BotCon 1999. It was an unforgettable moment: I saw him and Prime asked if I had Goldbug. "No," I said. "I never had a chance to pick him up." Prime picked up the little Throttlebot, paid for him and I said rather enviously, "Now you give him a good home."

Prime smiled and said, "Oh, I will," as he handed Goldbug to me. I nearly fell over, then tackle/hugged him as a thank you.

I had pretty much been a bachelorette before then; I hadn't been dating for at least a year. Now suddenly I have a brand new Goldbug and not long after, a new (and better) relationship with a real man. And the trend hasn't stopped there.

So as I paid for my brand new Cyber Speed Bumblebee I realized; each Bumblebee I own is a part of my history. Each one is a little trophy, a small symbol of personal victory over the forces of stupidity in my life.

Guess he really is my guardian angel after all.