Toys are for kids, right? Well, except those intended for kids at heart, like the battery-operated figures which hopped off store shelves and into customers shopping bags in the 1950s and 60s. Parents took one look at the gleeful Monkey Clanging Cymbals or the dainty Dog Lady Watering Flowers, and said to themselves, Now wouldnt the kids get a kick out of that? And they did, for awhile, at least. Battery figures required little interactivity. You turned on Mr. Monkey, watched him clang his cymbals, and then what? Back in the box he went. The truth, as toy manufacturers quickly discovered, was that kids werent the ones getting a kick out of these battery wonders. It was the actual buyers (i.e., their parents) who were getting the kick, thinking how much fun it would have been to own one of these toys back when they were kids. Thats why so many of the battery ops eventually found their way to a shelf in Dads den. And thats why so many of the figurine themes were a bit further afield than what authentic kids might be thinking about. (Really, how many boys and girls spent their days dreaming about owning a Charlie Weaver Bartender or a Pipe Smoking Rat)? The earliest battery toys, dating from just after WWII, were essentially mechanicals. Friction or a wind-up spring-driven motor provided any movement. Battery-powered components were just there to offer a little something extra, car headlights that actually lit up or a noisy police siren. Wind-up toys ran only as long as their wind-up lasted. Then it was time for another turn of the key. Japans introduction of miniature battery-powered motors in the late 1940s meant that toys could essentially run forever (or at least until their batteries wore out). Even better, battery-operated toys could be designed to perform whatever imaginative actions came to the designers mind. Piggy Cook could merrily sprinkle seasoning on his latest entre. Teddy The Boxing Bear could determinedly attack his punching bag. And the Down The Hatch Sea Captain could send another healthy slug...well, down the hatch. With some battery figures, the actions were even more ingenious: Magnetic fish helped the Fishing Bear reach his daily limit; McGregor the Cigar Smoker actually blew smoke from his cigar; while the Bubble Blowing Bunny did just that. Although some battery ops carried domestic company names (Cragstan, Ideal, Marx), the majority were manufactured in Japan, and then made available to U.S. distributors. While many imports carried no maker mark, one of the best-known Japanese manufacturers, Masudaya Modern Toys, utilized a diamond logo, encasing the letters M-T. (During the space-age 60s, one of M-Ts most popular creations was the 15-inch Giant Sonic Robot, which came complete with whistling sound effects and an array of flashing lights.) Originally, battery figures were very budget-friendly, retailing at $20-and-under. So why arent todays store windows filled with rows of grinning Charley Weavers? Well, the move to plastic in the late 1960s meant that tin battery toys could now be manufactured even more inexpensively, resulting in greater profits at the same selling price. Plastic toys proved more reliable too, not subject to the mechanical malfunctions (and rust) which plagued metal toys. While todays collectors are unlikely to find any battery toys at $20-and-under (any working ones, that is), prices still remain relatively friendly in the $100-$200 range (although Holy Grails like the Sonic can command up to $5,000). Original boxes, which often include operating instructions, add to the value. While minor imperfections, such as corroded battery terminals, can often be easily remedied, toys with non-working major functions are best left in the hands of hobbyists with plenty of skill and lots of time. Thats why its best to test out your favorites before purchasing. And be sure to bring along a few batteries. As the boxes always said, Batteries Not Included. Photo Associate: Hank Kuhlmann. Donald-Brian Johnson is the co-author of numerous books on design and collectibles, including Postwar Pop, a collection of his columns. Please address inquiries to: donaldbrian@msn.com. All photos by Donald-Brian Johnson.