My Favorite Toy Was The Talkgirl, Does That Make Me A Narcissist?
(I did not use it for pranking my siblings as the original commercial suggests.)
When I was in high school, I had one of those extremely annoying teachers who insisted on treating us like children. She was supposed to be teaching us English but we found ourselves doing inane arts and crafts projects way too often. One such project was also an icebreaker. We were supposed to decorate a box and put 3 items in this box that represented who we were. Then we were supposed to stand in front of the class and give a short presentation on the items and their significance. It was freaking show and tell. And not the kind where that one weird kid brings in a snake.
I spent the night before decorating my box with a collage comprised of quotes from books, tiny movie posters, and cut-outs from magazines. One of the items I decided to put in my box was the Tiger Talkgirl. After several other students had done their awkward presentations, it was my turn. I stared into my box and decided I’d save the Talkgirl for last. As I held the clunky, oversized tape recorder that was the Talkgirl, I was immediately filled with regret.
I was not that little shit head kid that was running around the house pranking my family members as the Talkboy commercial suggested. I was using this thing as an audio diary when I was a kid. I used it literally every single day. I recorded conversations I had with my parents and siblings, I used it as a confessional, and I’d used it to record myself sing because I was convinced I sounded like Christina Aguilera and needed the proof.
All the memories of this item came flooding back and I realized I was going to have to stand there and tell these people “This was my favorite thing as a kid, recording myself and listening back was my favorite thing to do.” I delivered the information self-deprecatingly and thankfully, it was received accordingly and the response was just slightly confused but amused looks.
Still, it never really sat well with me that my favorite childhood pastime was such a self-involved and solitary activity.
For anyone who doesn’t remember the Talkgirl, it was basically just a pinkish purple version of the Talkboy, which was originally supposed to only exist as a prop in Home Alone 2 but made its way to mass manufacturing shortly after. It had the voice changing features, of which I exclusively used the high pitched chipmunk sounding one for my own amusement.
I wasn’t particularly private about my recordings but no one ever asked to hear them so I was the only person who heard their contents for a long time. That was until I got older and my mom wanted to declutter the entire house, including our cassette collection. She knew they were my Talkgirl tapes but she asked that we listen to them to see if they were worth saving. We listened and laughed for hours but by the end of it, we were both in a bit of shock over how much of my time I actually spent recording. There were at least 10 tapes that were completely full and I know for a fact I recorded over them several times when I needed more room but didn’t have more tapes.
Some of the tendencies of narcissists include but are not limited to:
- Believe they are superior and can only associate with equally special people: maybe this is why I was reserved to me, myself, and my Talkgirl?
- Exaggerate achievements and talents: my genuine belief that I could beat Christina and Mariah and Britney at a Pitch Perfect like standoff if it came down to it.
- Have secret feelings of insecurity, shame, vulnerability, and humiliation: one of the recordings was me apologizing to the listener for having said that I didn’t enjoy a Christian song and recording over it. I spent a lot of time relaying all the shitty things I did in a day and how shitty they made me feel.
- Self obsessiveness: all in all I had probably 20 tapes worth of content. Just me content. I don’t know what other word there is to describe this but self-obsessed.
The fact is that I have explanations for this behavior. I was the youngest of three with a 6 year age gap between my brother and an 8 year age gap between my sister. They weren’t exactly interested in discussing the dynamics of the strange relationship between Helga and Arnold. I had friends but I also had strict parents. Strict and religious parents, hence the “Mary Did You Know?” shade-throwing.
Thankfully, it has become clear that I can’t sing better than anyone on this planet and I have not chosen a career as an entertainer. But here I sit, recording my thoughts on myself online. Has anything really changed?
