Around 1985, a band called New/National Rhythm & Blues Quartet (NRBQ), was trying to do something commercially unique and decided to, among other things, drown and blow Cabbage Patch Kids up on stage, then issue their victims death certificates. In this case, has researched the possible origin of this story. Just because I sent ten Cabbage Patch Dolls in separately to be repaired and Coleco only sent me back functional dolls doesn’t mean that my friend’s ex-boyfriend’s cousin didn’t receive a doll in a coffin and a bill for the funeral. They don’t want you to receive a citation for abuse of a creature likely to living under the bed covered by dust bunnies by Valentine’s Day. In extreme cases, a citation for child abuse would be issued to the unsuspecting parent, who was likely to be about eight years old.įirst, these scenarios always happen to someone else, and the person telling you the story is simply relaying the information to be helpful. In worse iterations, Hortense Eliza would arrive in a coffin with a charge for the burial expenses. A form was enclosed in the box.Īs the legend goes, the Scrooge’s at manufacturer Coleco, rather than fixing injured “kids” returned by hopeful parents, sent out death certificates. The lucky new parent would “register” their adoption with the manufacturer. You didn’t “buy” a CPK, you adopted little Hortense Eliza into your life. Because there always had to be someone for Jerry Springer to talk to, people attacked each other in toy stores for the last kid in the Cabbage Patch.
Kids and adults alike wanted these pricy, homely, soft dolls. The Cabbage Patch Kid was the Tickle-Me-Elmo of Christmas 1983. Take for instance, a popular urban legend, the “Cabbage Patch Kid’s Death Certificates.” Or the story is an amalgam of various cautionary tales. There’s 10% of the story that’s accurate and the remainder, having been distilled through active imaginations over a generation or two or several, is completely made up. Some urban legends are like the average political talking head’s approach to truth. Urban legends speak to some deeper need we have to convey knowledge and information, or just to scare the bejesus out of anyone thinking they might meet a beautiful woman in Vegas. Jan Harold Brunvand, a retired literature professor at the University of Utah and author of The Vanishing Hitchhiker: American Urban Legends & Their Meanings (1981) makes the point that outrageous myths survive even in societies with the resources to dispel them. On the contrary, social media and the internet have given what would have been regional stories new life in faraway locales. One would think that with unlimited means to research and disprove or verify, urban legends would be a thing of the past. There are some stories such as the lady in white who walks the highway looking for her next ride that are part of many regional mythologies.
Urban legends are like the common cold, but spread by word of mouth, television, newspapers and magazines and of course, bloggers! The term “urban legend” has been in use since the late 1960s. Especially when travelling on foot at midnight in a foggy, remote area. Just to be safe… beware of phantom black dogs. Don’t say “Bloody Mary” three times in a candlelit room unless you anticipate a terrible death. You may end the night packed in ice and missing a kidney. Avoid getting drunk in Las Vegas with a beautiful woman you just met.