In the mid 80’s, I became the youngest black executive at the Mattel Toy Company (and we could be counted on one hand with a finger or two missing). Monumental to the point of creepiness given where I grew up. I have spoken of my socio-academic bipolarism in the past for it is the nucleus of my present and presence. Spiritually, intellectually, scholastically, academically, physically and practically to the point of being naturally, I am the product of disparate worlds.
An existence fraught with peril. You know it to be true, which is why you are reading this article. I may never see greatness, but difference I have already vanquished.
I am not clinically bipolar. Because that clinical definition is predicated upon a subjective definition, context, narrative and, thusly, interpretation. Bipolar, in its most literal and linguistically primitive nature, simply means opposite ends, like bipedal means opposite feet/legs. I am bipolar in the sense that I have lived, since a very, very young child, in two opposite worlds within the same country.
From the time I was a little boy heading down the 405 South to Southern California Military Academy (S.C.M.A.) in Signal Hill, I would stare at the huge red circular Mattel logo atop the manufacturing facility on Rosecrans. Being a little boy at the time, every time I saw that logo, visions of Hot Wheels danced in my head and I thought that it had to be the coolest place on Earth. What was it like to work in such a place!
Screw Disneyland, I’m going to Mattel!
Never, in my wildest dreams as a small child did I ever think I would make corporate history in that very organization. Oddly enough, I was not much more than a boy when I did. But, I did.
At that time, Mattel was a Fortune 100 Company (and it may still be). My foray into the organization was so serendipitous and tangential that that professional sojourn alone requires another article, a long one. I went from working in law enforcement to wearing thousand dollar suits within 24 months. I had an office with my name on the door and a European-American secretary old enough to be my mother, while barely old enough to buy a beer.
And I mean, barely.
Technology was absolutely on fire at the time and, believe it or not, much more than it is now; at least from a quantum evolution standpoint. The microprocessor had just been perfected and miniaturized; which led the way to the device you are reading this article on at this very moment. Video games and MTV had taken the world by storm.
Compared to today’s graphics, SCSI’s, and compute power video games were the equivalent of hieroglyphics at that time. But, at that time, they were the equivalent of Star Trek. It was a very, very exciting time, and money, honey, flowed like wine.
Atari had pretty much monopolized the market for a good while. 12 months was a “good while” then, in terms of the technology-clock. Then there was Coleco Vision. If you’ve ever played PacMan or Donkeykong you have a good idea of what the graphics were like. Then came Mattel’s Intellivision, and we rocked the world.
The toy company and manufacturing facility at 5150 Rosecrans Avenue, that had that huge sign that could be seen miles away that I mentioned previously, became a separate company when Intellivision showed up. That company became Mattel Electronics. We were completely unhinged as a corporate culture. Few of us were older than 50 (and that is at the Director, V.P. level); most in the mid 20’s and 30’s, and I was even younger.
Long, story; as I have clearly stipulated in a prior statement.
Intellivision blew Atari and Coleco out of the water. Our graphics, quality and reliability were superior. And, oddly enough, I worked in Industrial/Employee Relations. I was responsible for all executive level hires for Quality Assurance, Quality Control, Manufacturing Engineering, Reliability Engineering, Software Engineering, Hardware Engineering, Product Development and the baddest motherfucker of all: Purchasing. Mr. Cohen (I will not state his first name) was the V.P. of Purchasing.
Man, oh man; that’s all I can say.
Mattel Electronics became one of the first companies in the United States to hit annual revenues of over a billion dollars. We were the most arrogant little corporate bastards one could imagine. Even though we were a Mattel subsidiary/company and our headquarters was still on Rosecrans, it was about two miles down; just off of the ocean in a place known as The Jacquard Building.
The building was at the corner of Sepulveda and Rosecrans, bordering the cities of El Segundo and gorgeous Manhattan Beach. We had a custom made shuttle bus that ferried us from our posh corporate enclave to the proletariats that worked at the plant two miles away (to my credit I loved hanging out at the plant). Our shit did not stink; so we thought.
Few people know the actual history of Mattel. For instance, Mattel had many holdings that would surprise the average person. Mattel owned Ice Follies/Capades. Mattel owned Ringling Brothers Barnum and Bailey Circus. And, this will blow (literally) your mind, Mattel owned a clandestine company called H&H Plastics. H&H Plastics was a contractor to the defense department for a weapon that is responsible for killing millions; especially during the Vietnam War. That weapon was called the M-16, and H&H made the plastic components for the assault firearm.
Barbie, Hot Wheels, ice skating, clowns and bullets…hawtdamn!
Only in ‘Merika!
Yeeeeeehaw!
Corporate America was a strange place at that time, it still is and it always will be. But then, where your office was situated was an indication of your corporate power and position. From the time you entered the lobby at reception, the long corridors began. The further down that corridor you were the more power and rank you had and your carpet would change, too. Oh yeah, for real.
The further towards the corner you were, the more rank and power you had. If your secretary was in a “pool” or had her own little secluded space (and they were all “hers”) was a sign of rank and power. My office was so close to reception I could feel the breeze when the double doors opened.
LMAO.
Since I was in Industrial/Employee relations I had a multi-faceted job. My main job was to recruit, steal, cajole, entice and bribe the best engineering and technical talent in the world. However, secondarily, I had a job as an ambassador for the organization; which is why I am so well versed on the Mattel story. I had an unlimited advertising budget, often taking out full page ads (on a Sunday, mind you) in the Sunday L.A. Times. A full page.
I call it an ambassador but, in all honesty, I was the token nigger. I was smart, glib, fairly handsome and was always so natty (not to be confused with nappy), that I was a literal poster child for the young, brash subsidiary. I was being used and, for a time given my lack of maturity, I thought it was wonderful.
Industrial Relations, Employee Relations, Compensation and Benefits and Technical Recruitment all fell under my Vice-President. A stern man in his late 40’s named Don Payne. Yes his name was Payne and, you bet your bottom dollar, should you run afoul of him you could spell his name like the other pain.
We understood, without discussing it, the value we had to one another and he likely had a child close to my age. Nonetheless, I steered clear of him. Sometimes, as I walked out of my office and looked down that corridor of executive row to where his “corner office” was, it was like looking at The Green Mile.
One day, my director called me into his office (I did not like that bastard at all). He always had this insincere smile on his face that let you know he was a Machiavellian to the max. I think he resented the fact that I was browner, younger, smarter, better looking and had all my hair, too.
In any event, I walked into his office and he informed me that our Chairman, not CEO (our CEO was Josh Denham), had requested a meeting with me. I almost fainted. Because, you see, our Chairman, of all of Mattel and its holdings, was the legendary Arthur Spear. I had read about the man when I was a child.
Once I got past my wooziness, my director informed me that Mr. Spear (he called him “Art”) wanted me to arrange a meeting with his office as soon as possible. He said nothing more. I freaked totally out.
I buzzed Dorothy and informed her that I needed her to schedule a meeting with Art Spear. She, obviously, was aware because she asked no questions and immediately executed the task. Within a few moments, she buzzed me and said that the meeting would be that day at 1500 hours.
Mr. Spear’s secretary had her own office, and he had his own quasi-lobby. I arrived and she let him know I was there. He immediately informed her to escort me in. His office was the size of a one bedroom apartment. He was one of the warmest, most elegant and gracious men I have ever met in my entire life.
He told me that he wanted me to be the chairperson for the United Way campaign in the company; including all subsidiaries. He told me the exposure would be invaluable for me and, since I was involved in recruitment and employee relations, that I was often the “first face” of Mattel and employees would be more likely to authorize payroll deductions for the charity. He was truly a philanthropist and I just fell in love with the dude.
I had some little pins made up for employees that donated that could be pinned onto their identification badges. When people saw mine, they all had to have one; it became a status symbol. It was a gold-plated pin with three or four little children-like figures holding hands. We broke a record for donations that year, and “Art” had me to his house for dinner.
Today, the movie and motion picture industry will pass out its stupid awards for terrible films as it conducts its annual Mephisto Waltz. Hopefully, there won’t be any ignorant Negroes slapping other Negroes, because only Negroes do idiotic excrement like that. Black People in the United States do not. Both a distinction and the starkest of differences.
Negro is, as Negro does, M.F.
The movie “Barbie” will, undoubtedly, win awards. I mean, this stuff is so contrived it is nauseating. Just as it was crystal clear who would win the Super Bowl weeks before it actually took place, this is the same crap, different smell. Nonetheless, Barbie was launched on March 9th, 1959 and today is March 10th, 2024. Tomorrow, March 11, will be my birthday. This is my unusual tale of Barbie and me and I hope you have enjoyed its relative lightness. ’Cause shit gets dark, tomorrow.
Very dark.
Why thank you, mate. However, today is not about me, 'tis about a thing much more ominous (if one can imagine such).
Like I said in this piece: "shit gets dark tomorrow...real dark."
In about two hours you will find clarity.
Thank you for your support!
Happy birthday!!