One would expect that the Cabbage Patch Kids would've gone the way of Pet Rocks and Rubik's Cubes by now. However, those other marketing manias lacked what the Cabbage Patch Kids still have, a shrine to which the truly faithful -- those fanatically devoted to their product -- can make a pilgrimage.
Babyland General Hospital is that shrine. It is the place where all the Cabbage Patch Kids are "born." It is one of the scariest places in America.
Babyland is pleasant-enough-looking -- an old doctor's clinic, in fact -- though the lavender trim gives warning that something is seriously wrong here. The parking lot across the street is packed. The building is jammed. Zombie couples drag small children inside, as if on a rendezvous with a seed pod.
The Horror Within
You first walk through the maternity ward, where you see dozens of the fat-faced dolls lying in incubators. These are the Kids that have been most recently born (we'll get to that in a minute) and are waiting for "adoption." Bunnybees, less-successful progeny of the Cabbage Patch Kids, dangle on wires from the ceiling of every room, knocking into your camera and face when you least expect it.
Off the maternity ward is a small room devoted to the man who made all of this possible, Xavier Roberts. Xavier began Babyland General in 1978; by 1987 more than 50 million of Babyland's spawn had been sold worldwide. Xavier's grinning mug is everywhere at Babyland, posing with his creations and beaming with undisguised glee. His Cabbage Patch has brought him into very deep clover.
Most of the folks in Babyland never notice Xavier. They're too busy propelling themselves through the nursery, and then through a series of rooms depicting Cabbage Patch dolls in Home Ec class, sailing on the S.S. Cabbage, riding on Santa's sleigh (special Christmas Edition dolls, $225), and ice-skating on a frozen pond (special Krystina Edition dolls, $250). Over in a corner is a pile of Cabbage Patch Kids made up to look like clowns (special Mitzi Edition dolls, $220).
The Tree...We Must See The Tree...
In the center of a final, great room stands the giant, fake, Magic Crystal Tree. Bunnybees dangle beneath its boughs while Cabbage Patch Kid heads poke from the cabbages underneath. Aborted deliveries, perhaps? You have no time to wonder, as the intercom suddenly barks "Code Green! Cabbage dilation!" and a nurse emerges from the trunk of the tree. The crowd pushes in close; camera flashes pop, camcorders whirr. "The Mother Cabbage has dilated a full 10 leaves," she explains through her face mask, poking the plastic plant with a dental pick. "Stem pressure and chlorophyll count is normal." Suddenly, the nurse's voice grows stern. "Please...no children leaning against the rail!" Yeah, get outta here, you real kids.
The nurse's hand darts down into the center of a plant. The crowd holds it's breath for a long moment, then bursts into applause as the nurse yanks a doll out from the hole in the cabbage and wraps it in a blanket. "It's a girl!" "Name it Melissa!" screams one member of the glassy-eyed mob. "No! name it Melody!" cries another. "We'll name her Melissa, and her middle name will be Melody," says the nurse curtly, satisfying the cabbage-crazed audience. "Melissa will be up for adoption in the Babyland nursery," adds a matter-of-fact voice over the intercom as the nurse walks away. It doesn't tell you the price -- $195.
Once you've recovered from this, you can walk through the large gift shop (it's between you and the exit) where you can adopt even more Cabbage Patch dolls, such as the the Preemies and Preschool Kids editions, as well as Bunnybees, Furskin Bears and a weird Cabbage Patch/rabbit hybrid, the Babyland Bunnies. There's lots of new Cabbage Patch clothes for sale as well.
Even when you finally escape, there's no escape. Flowering cabbages bloom in the greenhouse next door. You can buy these, too.
