Sweet Mother Hubbard!
I saw this at Strange New Products, which regularly spotlights things that make even people like me go "Whahuh?"
Remember how funny it was when they had that hair-removal goo called Nad's? I almost soiled myself laughing the first time I stumbled upon the infomercial, especially when the there was the random cut to the "hostess," who smiled broadly and said "Nad's!"
Well, it's like they always say, no matter how hard you try, you can't get rid of Nad's.
Oh, wait. That sounds kinda, uh, never mind.
Now the new product is called Naughty Nad's, which either proves that they really didn't get it the first time, or they really did.
Naughty Nad's is specially designed for the bikini area and provides the consumer with templates, and, boy, you know what? My mom might read this, so I'm just going to stop. I think you can figure it out yourselves. Just click the link for more information.
I just wonder if you can make your own templates, like a smiley face or, oh, sorry. Gotta stop again. Sorry, Mom.
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
Way to market, yo.
I caught a promo for "Fear Factor" on TV last night. I kinda blocked most of it out until I heard "Less gross! More stunts!"
Apparently, even the people who make the show are tired of making people eat cross-eyed mealworms and fermented horse rectums.
Who says there's no progress on TV?
Apparently, even the people who make the show are tired of making people eat cross-eyed mealworms and fermented horse rectums.
Who says there's no progress on TV?
Monday, November 28, 2005
Please, sir or madam, will you read my book?
Well, there's good news and bad news.
The bad news: I haven't quite reached the National Novel Writing Month goal of writing a 50,000-word novel in November.
The good news: If I write about 14,833 words for the next three days, I'll make it no problem.
I knew I was going to have trouble reaching the goal to start with, but once my son decided that November was the month he was going to stop napping on a regular basis, I didn't have much luck.
I'm still going to work on it, though. There are parts of it that I like quite a bit, which is saying something, since I usually am not fond of much that I write.
Maybe I'll make it a project to tackle in earnest in the new year. That way I won't have to make exercising and losing weight my new year resolution.
Pretty sneaky, eh?
The longest story I've done was just about 50,000 words, and I wrote it when I was in high school. Those were the days when I could go home and knock out 10 or 12 pages in an afternoon.
Not having a social life will do that for you.
But then, what's my excuse now? I'm still not a social butterfly.
I think there are two problems:
1. I edit way too much while I'm writing. I've read in book after book on writing that you should really just let the editing go. Wait until it's actually done before you start worrying about it. I have a hard time doing that. Spending 5 years as a copy editor didn't help that much, either.
2. I tend to get more interesting in the process of writing than the actual writing itself. I spend so much time preparing (because I don't want to have to stop to look something up) that I seldom actually do any of the writing I want so much to do.
3. I'm lazy; it's a lot easier to play a videogame or watch a crappy movie.
4. I can't count very well.
I'd give it up and save myself the aggravation if I could, but I can't not write. It's always in my head; it's just a matter of taking the time to get it out on the page. It got to the point where I'd get headaches if I didn't write for an extended period of time.
I love the feeling I get after I have one of those long writing sessions -- it's like I'm not even doing anything, just reading the story that's appearing on my screen.
And yes, I know that this entry could've been 400 or so words on my story instead.
The bad news: I haven't quite reached the National Novel Writing Month goal of writing a 50,000-word novel in November.
The good news: If I write about 14,833 words for the next three days, I'll make it no problem.
I knew I was going to have trouble reaching the goal to start with, but once my son decided that November was the month he was going to stop napping on a regular basis, I didn't have much luck.
I'm still going to work on it, though. There are parts of it that I like quite a bit, which is saying something, since I usually am not fond of much that I write.
Maybe I'll make it a project to tackle in earnest in the new year. That way I won't have to make exercising and losing weight my new year resolution.
Pretty sneaky, eh?
The longest story I've done was just about 50,000 words, and I wrote it when I was in high school. Those were the days when I could go home and knock out 10 or 12 pages in an afternoon.
Not having a social life will do that for you.
But then, what's my excuse now? I'm still not a social butterfly.
I think there are two problems:
1. I edit way too much while I'm writing. I've read in book after book on writing that you should really just let the editing go. Wait until it's actually done before you start worrying about it. I have a hard time doing that. Spending 5 years as a copy editor didn't help that much, either.
2. I tend to get more interesting in the process of writing than the actual writing itself. I spend so much time preparing (because I don't want to have to stop to look something up) that I seldom actually do any of the writing I want so much to do.
3. I'm lazy; it's a lot easier to play a videogame or watch a crappy movie.
4. I can't count very well.
I'd give it up and save myself the aggravation if I could, but I can't not write. It's always in my head; it's just a matter of taking the time to get it out on the page. It got to the point where I'd get headaches if I didn't write for an extended period of time.
I love the feeling I get after I have one of those long writing sessions -- it's like I'm not even doing anything, just reading the story that's appearing on my screen.
And yes, I know that this entry could've been 400 or so words on my story instead.
Friday, November 25, 2005
Beezus and Ramona, cruisin' through the jungles of Klickitat Street...
Unpacking all the books we have could get to be a full-time job. I'm just about done, but I keep finding cool stuff. It's like being in a bookstore where all the books are about stuff I'm interested in.
Yes, it's been that long since I've had all the books out and accessible.
When I was about 8, I guess, I pestered my parents to take me to a bookstore about a half-hour away because Beverly Cleary was going to be there in person. I had all the Ramona books, as well as the Ralph S. Mouse books. I had "Otis Spofford," too, but I couldn't tell you much about it if you threatened me with bodily harm.
When we got to the store (I think it was called Toad Hall Books, but 8-year-old me didn't keep exact records, you know?), I noticed that there was a line of people that spanned roughly to Zimbabwe.
But so strong was my love for Beverly Cleary's books that I waited in that line. When I finally got to the front of the line, I didn't know what to say -- I'm horribly shy -- so I probably mumbled hello and said that I liked her books a lot.
She thanked me for coming and signed the well-worn copy of "The Mouse and the Motorcycle" I brought with me, and I just thought that was the coolest thing ever. She was the first famous person I'd ever met, and she was really nice.
If my wife and I ever end up having a daughter, the name Ramona is definitely at the top of my list.
And not just because Beezus already got vetoed.
Yes, it's been that long since I've had all the books out and accessible.
When I was about 8, I guess, I pestered my parents to take me to a bookstore about a half-hour away because Beverly Cleary was going to be there in person. I had all the Ramona books, as well as the Ralph S. Mouse books. I had "Otis Spofford," too, but I couldn't tell you much about it if you threatened me with bodily harm.
When we got to the store (I think it was called Toad Hall Books, but 8-year-old me didn't keep exact records, you know?), I noticed that there was a line of people that spanned roughly to Zimbabwe.
But so strong was my love for Beverly Cleary's books that I waited in that line. When I finally got to the front of the line, I didn't know what to say -- I'm horribly shy -- so I probably mumbled hello and said that I liked her books a lot.
She thanked me for coming and signed the well-worn copy of "The Mouse and the Motorcycle" I brought with me, and I just thought that was the coolest thing ever. She was the first famous person I'd ever met, and she was really nice.
If my wife and I ever end up having a daughter, the name Ramona is definitely at the top of my list.
And not just because Beezus already got vetoed.
Thursday, November 24, 2005
Happy Thanksgiving!
Hope everyone has a happy day today. I'm getting ready for my yearly intake of dinner rolls and olives.
I don't like turkey, which makes turkey-centric holidays, uh, interesting.
But we have lots to be thankful for, even with the hard year we've had. I'm thankful for my wife, my son, family and friends, and this year, I'm especially thankful for the time we had -- brief though it was -- with our son Harry.
While I would much rather have been able to bring him home with us, at least we all got to be together for a little while.
So if you are partaking of some holiday beverage today, raise a glass for Harry, won't you? I know I will.
I don't like turkey, which makes turkey-centric holidays, uh, interesting.
But we have lots to be thankful for, even with the hard year we've had. I'm thankful for my wife, my son, family and friends, and this year, I'm especially thankful for the time we had -- brief though it was -- with our son Harry.
While I would much rather have been able to bring him home with us, at least we all got to be together for a little while. So if you are partaking of some holiday beverage today, raise a glass for Harry, won't you? I know I will.
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
Why bits of my childhood seem like a drug-induced haze
I've been organizing all the millions of books in the old Sparkman household, and I came across some old superhero coloring books. I thought, "Hey, this would be cool to write about."
Alas, I've been beaten to the punch by Dave's Long Box, who not only has the same cool DC Super Heroes coloring book, but he got his for a quarter.
Some guys get all the luck.
I've also got a fairly hefty Marvel Super Heroes coloring book. It's no 500-page fun-for-all, but it's got a few adventures of the Incredible Hulk and the Fantastic Four.
I took a look at this book for the first time in a long time, and I'm noticing just how weird it is. First, the cover.
Nothing too odd, but the Hulk's abs are so big that it looks like he has six breasts.
Oh, and he looks like he's in a giant spit bubble or something. What's going on inside?
The planet Big Zero (lots of self-esteem there, I bet) is attacked and destroyed by The Greenies. But there's a survivor who escapes in his 8-track craft, which looks like a giant 8, not an outdated music storage device.
The survivor, 00-6, goes to Earth for help and lands at Indianapolis Speedway.
Meanwhile, Bruce Banner is having a picnic by himself. 00-6 zaps his picnic basket into nothingness (presumably, since he has the 00 prefix, it means he has a license to kill...). Bruce Hulks out, and 00-6 thinks he's another Greenie and attacks him.
Uh, yeah. That's something that you don't hear very often.
They eventually join forces against The Greenies, who look just like Hulk. The Greenies are preparing to suck all the green from the Earth. Don't ask, man, I didn't write it. Oh, here's 00-6 in action:
They eventually win, but at the cost of 00-6's life. Hulk is so distraught that he takes a nap under a tree. The End.
The last two stories feature the Fantastic Four, but the first includes the Human Torch replacement from the 1978 cartoon, Herbie the Robot.
I named my parents' cat Herbie because he, too, is white and annoying.
While the Fantastic Four plans to go on vacation, a villain is planning to defeat them. Which FF villain, you ask? Doctor Doom? Galactus? No.
The Pink Fink.
Nope, not making it up. Check it out.
Even in black and white, that looks bad. Not to spoil the story or anything, but he's beaten in short order and everyone lives happily ever efter, blah, blah, blah...
The third story is the lamest of the bunch and doesn't even have any pictures I feel like scanning in and mocking, so we'll just pretend it didn't happen.
Of course, now every time I'm planning a vacation, I'm going to see this image in my head:
Curse you, Herbie...
Alas, I've been beaten to the punch by Dave's Long Box, who not only has the same cool DC Super Heroes coloring book, but he got his for a quarter.
Some guys get all the luck.
I've also got a fairly hefty Marvel Super Heroes coloring book. It's no 500-page fun-for-all, but it's got a few adventures of the Incredible Hulk and the Fantastic Four.
I took a look at this book for the first time in a long time, and I'm noticing just how weird it is. First, the cover.
Nothing too odd, but the Hulk's abs are so big that it looks like he has six breasts.
Oh, and he looks like he's in a giant spit bubble or something. What's going on inside?
The planet Big Zero (lots of self-esteem there, I bet) is attacked and destroyed by The Greenies. But there's a survivor who escapes in his 8-track craft, which looks like a giant 8, not an outdated music storage device.
The survivor, 00-6, goes to Earth for help and lands at Indianapolis Speedway.
Meanwhile, Bruce Banner is having a picnic by himself. 00-6 zaps his picnic basket into nothingness (presumably, since he has the 00 prefix, it means he has a license to kill...). Bruce Hulks out, and 00-6 thinks he's another Greenie and attacks him.
Uh, yeah. That's something that you don't hear very often.
They eventually join forces against The Greenies, who look just like Hulk. The Greenies are preparing to suck all the green from the Earth. Don't ask, man, I didn't write it. Oh, here's 00-6 in action:
They eventually win, but at the cost of 00-6's life. Hulk is so distraught that he takes a nap under a tree. The End.
The last two stories feature the Fantastic Four, but the first includes the Human Torch replacement from the 1978 cartoon, Herbie the Robot.
I named my parents' cat Herbie because he, too, is white and annoying.
While the Fantastic Four plans to go on vacation, a villain is planning to defeat them. Which FF villain, you ask? Doctor Doom? Galactus? No.
The Pink Fink.
Nope, not making it up. Check it out.
Even in black and white, that looks bad. Not to spoil the story or anything, but he's beaten in short order and everyone lives happily ever efter, blah, blah, blah...
The third story is the lamest of the bunch and doesn't even have any pictures I feel like scanning in and mocking, so we'll just pretend it didn't happen.
Of course, now every time I'm planning a vacation, I'm going to see this image in my head:
Curse you, Herbie...
Monday, November 21, 2005
I saw him standing there
Meant to post about this earlier, but I'm trying to get over a cold (with little success thus far).
I went with my friend Ken to a concert. I don't get out to concerts that much, especially now that I have a 2-year-old. As it is, I haven't been to that many. I've seen They Might Be Giants, Ben Folds Five, Ben Folds by himself and, uh, Hall and Oates at the Big Fresno Fair a few years ago.
So, imagine my surprise when I ended up seeing Paul McCartney in Sacramento last week.
For those of you who are younger than me, Mr. McCartney was once in a popular band.
Wings.
Sorry; old joke. I've been listening to the Beatles since I was in utero, and that music has been in my life constantly. My dad used to have me sing the harmonies when we'd sing along to Beatles songs, as well as McCartney's solo stuff.
I complained that doing so was what made my voice so high, but apparently, it was just because I was 6. My voice now, alas, isn't the deep James Earl Jones I wanted, but more of a Jiminy Cricket. It does wonders for your self-esteem when you answer the phone and the caller thinks it's my mom and not me. That's why my wife thinks it's funny that when I answer the phone at home, my voice drops noticeably.
For the first couple of songs, it was just striking me that "I'm seeing Paul McCartney. He's right down there, close enough for me to see without having to look at the big TV screens."
It was a very Beatles-centric setlist, which was kinda cool, as I never thought I'd hear those songs in concert. I loved that a metric buttload of people paid lots of money to fill Arco Arena and, via a giant sound system, listen to a song from "The Music Man."
Here's the setlist:
1. Magical Mystery Tour
2. Flaming Pie
3. Jet
4. I'll Get You
5. Drive My Car
6. Till There Was You
7. Let Me Roll It
8. Got to Get You Into My Life
9. Fine Line
10. Maybe I'm Amazed
11. Long and Winding Road
12. In Spite of All the Danger
13. I Will
14. Jenny Wren
15. For No One
16. Fixing a Hole
17. English Tea
18. I'll Follow the Sun
19. Follow Me
20. Blackbird
21. Eleanor Rigby
22. Too Many People
23. She Came in Through the Bathroom Window
24. Good Day Sunshine
25. Band on the Run
26. Penny Lane
27. I've Got a Feeling
28. Back in the USSR
29. Hey Jude
30. Live and Let Die (complete with fireworks and flames; every time the flames shot out, we could feel the heat)
1st Encore
31. Yesterday
32. Get Back
33. Helter Skelter
2nd Encore
34. Please Please Me
35. Let It Be
36. Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band (reprise)
37. The End
That's a lot of songs. The concert ended at about 11:30 p.m. Now keep in mind, that in general, because when I work, I'm in bed by 8 p.m. and up by about 2 a.m.
After the concert, Ken and I waited in line to buy a T-shirt. Ordinarily, I wouldn't wait in line or pay too much money for a short, but since I doubt I'll have the opportunity to do this again, I figured, why not?
It took us a while to find where we'd parked, partly because we're just like that and partly because they put up barriers after we'd parked and it threw us off. So after midnight, we were on our way to grab some food.
By the time I got back home, it was almost 4 in the morning. Brody woke up crying at 6, but Jen told me to go back to bed. I ended up getting about 3 or 4 hours of sleep, which I think depressed my immune system enough that I got Brody's cold.
But I think it was worth it. Now I just need to catch up on some sleep...
I went with my friend Ken to a concert. I don't get out to concerts that much, especially now that I have a 2-year-old. As it is, I haven't been to that many. I've seen They Might Be Giants, Ben Folds Five, Ben Folds by himself and, uh, Hall and Oates at the Big Fresno Fair a few years ago.
So, imagine my surprise when I ended up seeing Paul McCartney in Sacramento last week. For those of you who are younger than me, Mr. McCartney was once in a popular band.
Wings.
Sorry; old joke. I've been listening to the Beatles since I was in utero, and that music has been in my life constantly. My dad used to have me sing the harmonies when we'd sing along to Beatles songs, as well as McCartney's solo stuff.
I complained that doing so was what made my voice so high, but apparently, it was just because I was 6. My voice now, alas, isn't the deep James Earl Jones I wanted, but more of a Jiminy Cricket. It does wonders for your self-esteem when you answer the phone and the caller thinks it's my mom and not me. That's why my wife thinks it's funny that when I answer the phone at home, my voice drops noticeably.
For the first couple of songs, it was just striking me that "I'm seeing Paul McCartney. He's right down there, close enough for me to see without having to look at the big TV screens."
It was a very Beatles-centric setlist, which was kinda cool, as I never thought I'd hear those songs in concert. I loved that a metric buttload of people paid lots of money to fill Arco Arena and, via a giant sound system, listen to a song from "The Music Man."
Here's the setlist:
1. Magical Mystery Tour
2. Flaming Pie
3. Jet
4. I'll Get You
5. Drive My Car
6. Till There Was You
7. Let Me Roll It
8. Got to Get You Into My Life
9. Fine Line
10. Maybe I'm Amazed
11. Long and Winding Road
12. In Spite of All the Danger
13. I Will
14. Jenny Wren
15. For No One
16. Fixing a Hole
17. English Tea
18. I'll Follow the Sun
19. Follow Me
20. Blackbird
21. Eleanor Rigby
22. Too Many People
23. She Came in Through the Bathroom Window
24. Good Day Sunshine
25. Band on the Run
26. Penny Lane
27. I've Got a Feeling
28. Back in the USSR
29. Hey Jude
30. Live and Let Die (complete with fireworks and flames; every time the flames shot out, we could feel the heat)
1st Encore
31. Yesterday
32. Get Back
33. Helter Skelter
2nd Encore
34. Please Please Me
35. Let It Be
36. Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band (reprise)
37. The End
That's a lot of songs. The concert ended at about 11:30 p.m. Now keep in mind, that in general, because when I work, I'm in bed by 8 p.m. and up by about 2 a.m.
After the concert, Ken and I waited in line to buy a T-shirt. Ordinarily, I wouldn't wait in line or pay too much money for a short, but since I doubt I'll have the opportunity to do this again, I figured, why not?
It took us a while to find where we'd parked, partly because we're just like that and partly because they put up barriers after we'd parked and it threw us off. So after midnight, we were on our way to grab some food.
By the time I got back home, it was almost 4 in the morning. Brody woke up crying at 6, but Jen told me to go back to bed. I ended up getting about 3 or 4 hours of sleep, which I think depressed my immune system enough that I got Brody's cold.
But I think it was worth it. Now I just need to catch up on some sleep...
Cat. I'm a kitty cat.
I don't know how I found it before, but I just saw a link to it at No Fancy Name, so I figured I'd share it with you.
It, of course, is the very cool dancing cat video. My son loves cats, so when he saw this, he went nuts.
He started laughing so hard he almost threw up. This is actually something he does fairly often. It's this weird hiccup-burp thing, the sound of which makes him laugh even harder.
I'm warning you -- this will get stuck in your head forever.
It, of course, is the very cool dancing cat video. My son loves cats, so when he saw this, he went nuts.
He started laughing so hard he almost threw up. This is actually something he does fairly often. It's this weird hiccup-burp thing, the sound of which makes him laugh even harder.
I'm warning you -- this will get stuck in your head forever.
Friday, November 18, 2005
Daily tale of lament
Alas, the thrift store known in our household as "The Thrift Store Where Jen Got Crapped on By a Bird" (which is unfair, now that I think of it, as said event actually happened in the parking lot) is closing at the end of the month, so Brody and I headed over there the other day to check things out.
My only purchase was the perennial Wham-O favorite, Trac Ball. My set wasn't the brightly colored edition offered today, but the plain black plastic variety that I remember from my youth.
Even more testament to it being a relic from another time was the half-torn price tag from King Norman's, a toy store that disappeared from the area about 20 years ago.
But at $3.99, it was a good bargain. I might actually try it out once Brody gets a little older.
My only purchase was the perennial Wham-O favorite, Trac Ball. My set wasn't the brightly colored edition offered today, but the plain black plastic variety that I remember from my youth.
Even more testament to it being a relic from another time was the half-torn price tag from King Norman's, a toy store that disappeared from the area about 20 years ago.
But at $3.99, it was a good bargain. I might actually try it out once Brody gets a little older.
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
One step closer to Jefftopia
Some interesting news from The Wall Street Journal for those of us who dig old TV shows.
Early next year, In2TV, a new broadband network from AOL and Warner Bros., will allow you to watch buttloads of old shows for free.
Yeah, you have to sit through some commercials, but still, it'll be interesting to see some shows that for one reason or another, aren't on TV right now. Plus, they're planning to offer bonus content like trivia along with the episodes.
What cracks me up is this quote from Larry Jones, the president of TV Land and Nick at Nite:
God forbid we actually decide what to watch instead of getting the same prepackaged crapfests offered on Nick at Nite and TV Land.
Okay, that's perhaps a bit harsh. They have some classic TV on those channels. Alas, it's all the same stuff over and over.
I'm not saying that I'm going to be glued to my computer watching episode after episode of "Welcome Back, Kotter" or "Growing Pains" (the best show ever to have a secondary character named 'Boner').
"Wonder Woman," maybe.
But just to theoretically have the opportunity to pick what you want to watch from a large selection is kind of neat. Sometimes one or two episodes is all you need to fill you up, you know? I don't need "Hazel" to be in heavy rotation. I just want to see it once or twice. That's all.
If you think about it, TV Land and N@N could think of this service as test marketing. All they have to do is look at the most downloaded shows, and if it's something they have in their available libraries, add it to the lineup and promote the hell out of it. This eliminates some guesswork, doesn't it?
One step closer to programming my own network...
Early next year, In2TV, a new broadband network from AOL and Warner Bros., will allow you to watch buttloads of old shows for free.
Yeah, you have to sit through some commercials, but still, it'll be interesting to see some shows that for one reason or another, aren't on TV right now. Plus, they're planning to offer bonus content like trivia along with the episodes.
What cracks me up is this quote from Larry Jones, the president of TV Land and Nick at Nite:
"We pick the best of the best from multiple studios," he said. "I don't know if viewers are ready for so much choice. Ultimately what [In2TV] does is force viewers to be their own programmers."
God forbid we actually decide what to watch instead of getting the same prepackaged crapfests offered on Nick at Nite and TV Land.
Okay, that's perhaps a bit harsh. They have some classic TV on those channels. Alas, it's all the same stuff over and over.
I'm not saying that I'm going to be glued to my computer watching episode after episode of "Welcome Back, Kotter" or "Growing Pains" (the best show ever to have a secondary character named 'Boner').
"Wonder Woman," maybe.But just to theoretically have the opportunity to pick what you want to watch from a large selection is kind of neat. Sometimes one or two episodes is all you need to fill you up, you know? I don't need "Hazel" to be in heavy rotation. I just want to see it once or twice. That's all.
If you think about it, TV Land and N@N could think of this service as test marketing. All they have to do is look at the most downloaded shows, and if it's something they have in their available libraries, add it to the lineup and promote the hell out of it. This eliminates some guesswork, doesn't it?
One step closer to programming my own network...
Monday, November 14, 2005
Can't get you out of my head
If I had a nickel for every dumb thing I remembered from an old TV show or movie, I could probably buy them all on DVD.
The space in my brain that could be used for remembering such things as where I put the keys or what my son's name is (just kidding; it's Poindexter) is instead taken up by sometimes frighteningly useless pieces of entertainment history.
I've been lucky in that with the advent of DVD, a lot of this pop culture detritus is effectively exorcised from my head. It's like once my mind knows that there's a backup copy, it stops running at inopertune moments.
But there's still a lot that needs exorcising.
For example, when I was but a wee lad, HBO or Showtime broadcast a Barry Manilow concert. From what I remember, it seemed to cover a lot of the ground that the Barry Manilow Live album (which we had on a light blue 8-track tape) did.
There's a part called the VSM: Very Strange Medley. In it, he'd do a medley of various commercial jingles he'd worked on. I loved that part, because, well, even then, I was obsessed with commercials and commercial jingles.
But on the TV concert, there was a portion of that VSM that wasn't included on the record. Barry talks about some failed jingles that he wrote, but for some reason weren't accepted. And here's the part that, to this day, I remember vividly:
Now I don't know if that's verbatim, but that's what plays in my mind on a too-constant basis. What would be swell is if this was on DVD so I could cast it away. But my two minutes of extensive research was fruitless, and I didn't see it on Netflix, either. I suppose I could look for a tape of it on eBay, but I don't know if I really want to go to that much trouble.
Besides, even if I managed to get it out of my head, It would probably be replaced with "Pop Goes the World" by Men Without Hats or something.
Now that really sucks.
The space in my brain that could be used for remembering such things as where I put the keys or what my son's name is (just kidding; it's Poindexter) is instead taken up by sometimes frighteningly useless pieces of entertainment history.
I've been lucky in that with the advent of DVD, a lot of this pop culture detritus is effectively exorcised from my head. It's like once my mind knows that there's a backup copy, it stops running at inopertune moments.
But there's still a lot that needs exorcising.
For example, when I was but a wee lad, HBO or Showtime broadcast a Barry Manilow concert. From what I remember, it seemed to cover a lot of the ground that the Barry Manilow Live album (which we had on a light blue 8-track tape) did.
There's a part called the VSM: Very Strange Medley. In it, he'd do a medley of various commercial jingles he'd worked on. I loved that part, because, well, even then, I was obsessed with commercials and commercial jingles.
But on the TV concert, there was a portion of that VSM that wasn't included on the record. Barry talks about some failed jingles that he wrote, but for some reason weren't accepted. And here's the part that, to this day, I remember vividly:
When that jar of peanut butter goes crashing on the floor, and it gets smooshed into the carpet by the brat who lives next door, don't reach for the broom and dustpan, or the old Electrolux. For value and good service,
Hoover ...
really...
sucks.
Now I don't know if that's verbatim, but that's what plays in my mind on a too-constant basis. What would be swell is if this was on DVD so I could cast it away. But my two minutes of extensive research was fruitless, and I didn't see it on Netflix, either. I suppose I could look for a tape of it on eBay, but I don't know if I really want to go to that much trouble.
Besides, even if I managed to get it out of my head, It would probably be replaced with "Pop Goes the World" by Men Without Hats or something.
Now that really sucks.
Monday, November 07, 2005
Happy holidays from Jones Soda
At Target yesterday, I spied the Jones Soda Holiday Pack. Having read about last year's offerings, I was curious to see this year's flavors.
Turkey and Gravy, Wild Herb Stuffing, Brussels Sprout, Cranberry and Pumpkin Pie.
Ah, but that's only what's in the National Pack. Those crazy folks at Jones also have unleashed a Regional Pack, in which you'll find Broccoli Casserole, Smoked Salmon Paté, Turkey & Gravy, Corn on the Cob and Pecan Pie. The Regional Pack is available in select areas, so check the Jones Soda Web site to see where you can find it.
And if you think I'm going to buy them and tell you what they taste like, then you are out of luck. I have my limits.
Fortunately, Matt at X-Entertainment.com has done all the hard work. Check it out.
And on a happier note, the holiday packs are fund-raisers for St. Jude’s Children’s Research Center and Toys for Tots. Jones Soda might have concocted the soda fountain from hell, but their hearts are in the right place.
Gift ideas for the sarcastic blogger in your life
I know everyone is bummed that they missed my birthday, but if you want to make up for it, Target.com has a few things that would be acceptable.
There's this:
And, if you really like me, you can get this:
They are available beginning Nov. 15, so that gives you all plenty of time to search the couch cushions for change or recycle those aluminum cans.
There's this:
And, if you really like me, you can get this:
They are available beginning Nov. 15, so that gives you all plenty of time to search the couch cushions for change or recycle those aluminum cans.
Saturday, November 05, 2005
"Eighty-eight miles per hour!"
Today is a special day; an anniversary worth celebrating.
It was 50 years ago today that Dr. Emmett L. Brown was inspired to create the flux capacitor, which, as we all know, is what makes time travel possible.
So to you, Doc Brown, we tip our hats.
Other fun Nov. 5 facts, courtesy of IMDB.com: If she were still alive, Natalie "Lovey Howell" Schafer would be 105 today.
A lot of musicians have a birthday today: Ike Turner turns 74, Art Garfunkel is 64, Peter Noone of Herman's Hermits is 58. Strangely, Bryan Adams and Ryan Adams both celebrate their birthdays today. Bryan Adams is 46, and Ryan ("I'm not Bryan Adams") Adams turns 31.
And because there's always a Star Trek connection, today is Armin (Quark from "Deep Space Nine) Shimerman's birthday.
Woo-hoo! Birthday candles all around.
I swear, you could waste hours playing around with the "On This Day" function at IMDB. Plug in your birthday and see who you share a special day with.
For example, I have the same birthday as Ryan ("I'm still not Bryan Adams, and I'm getting really tired of smart-ass people making jokes all the time, especially when it leads to an entirely too long parenthetical note") Adams. What are the odds?
Friday, November 04, 2005
National Novel Writing Month progress
Well, it's only a few days into it, and I'm already behind. Meh.
Of course, there were some other minor details that were throwing the old monkey-wrench into the works, but I think I'm back on track.
Here's the first line of the story:
And no, I'm not explaining the context in which it's used. Maybe later.
Of course, there were some other minor details that were throwing the old monkey-wrench into the works, but I think I'm back on track.
Here's the first line of the story:
"And he says, 'Lad, I don't know where you've been, but I see you won first prize.'"
And no, I'm not explaining the context in which it's used. Maybe later.
Wednesday, November 02, 2005
A knight out on the town
We took my son, Brody, trick-or-treating the other night. We took him last year, but he was only a year old, so he wasn't much of a participant. He just tried to walk into people's houses and even gave hugs to a few people.
But now, he's a year older, and a little more prepared for trick-or-treating. I'd been working with him on exactly how the process worked.
"Okay, you ring the doorbell, and when the person answers the door, you say 'trick or treat.'" Can you say 'trick or treat'?"
"Yes."
"Well, let's hear it."
Nothing.
"And after they give you the candy, what do you say?"
"Thank you."
"Good job. That's using your manners." I'm trying to teach him to use good manners, which is akin to Mike Tyson teaching ballroom dancing.
So when the time came, we got him into his knight costume and gave him my wife's old jack o'lantern bucket to carry his Halloween booty in.
"Go outside?"
"Yep, we're going outside to go trick-or-treating. Can you say 'trick or treat'?"
"Yes."
"Well, let's go. Remember to say thank you when you get some candy."
"Thank you."
So we got to the first house and rang the doorbell. (Brody's still a little too short to handle that on his own.) The door opened, and Brody stood there quietly.
"Brody, what do you say?" my wife asked, hoping to prod him into saying "trick or treat."
Without hesitation, he answered "Please!"
Close enough.
Candy dropped into his bucket.
"Brody, what do you say?" I figured at least he'd nail this part, and he'd look very well-mannered.
"Bye!"
He says thank you every time I hand him one of his cars or give him some Goldfish crackers, but when he gets candy from strangers, all he says is "Bye."
He didn't get fussy during our brief trek; in fact, it was only near th end that he asked us to hold his bucket for him ("Heavy," he explained).
He still seemed a little eager to just walk right in to people's houses, especially the one answered by a young woman with glasses. He just stood there smiling after he got his candy.
He has a thing for brunettes with glasses.
And Rachael Ray, even though she doesn't wear glasses.
We ended up going to about a dozen or so houses and came home with a pretty good haul. Brody, being the generous soul he is, let old Mom and Dad have at the candy after he was done counting it.
The fact that he doesn't like candy didn't have anything to do with it, I'm sure.
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
McRib, for your pleasure
From now until Nov. 20, you can catch the McRib on its farewell tour at local McDonald'ses (pesky plurals!). They've got a swell Web site to promote the sandwich, which for some ungodly reason, has a fan following.
No, not a big McRib fan. But if you are, you can download some cool designs for farewell tour T-shirts if you want.
Why so much effort goes into preserving the McRib and not bringing back Hostess Pudding Pies, I'll never know.
Friday, October 28, 2005
Jeff's Last-Minute Halloween Costume Ideas
Get two tall, white garbage bags. Cut armholes (and headhole) in one, legholes in the other. Fill excess space with newspapers.
Voila! You are white trash.
Stuck with a headless gorilla costume? Don't fret -- just get an old-school diving helmet, and you can be Ro-Man, the titular villain from "Robot Monster."
I worked at a bookstore years ago and was stuck working on Halloween. I borrowed my brother's Darth Vader helmet and wore it with my regular shirt and tie (yes, and pants, too, sickos...). I even made myself a nametag that said "Darth."
You can never go wrong with a grass skirt, especially on Halloween. One year, my brother borrowed my grass skirt and one of my Hawaiian shirts and donned his George H.W. Bush mask. Tres popular.
I made a smiley-face mask (sewed it myself, even) and wore my brother's old Grim Reaper costume. If anyone asks what you are, tell them you're the Ghost of Wal-Mart Future.
"Watch out ... for falling prices..."
Put a paper grocery bag over your head (cut eyeholes in it first, of course). You can tell everyone you're the Unknown Comic. When they say "Who?", you can regale them with your extensive knowledge of the Unknown Comic's career.
If you're a fan of Katamari Damacy, wrap yourself up with double-stick tape and attach random items (even people, if you can manage). I bet someone has tried this, so let me see if I can find a picture on the Internet. Hang on a sec, okay?
...
Hmm. No luck so far. Well, you should look like the giant ball in the middle of this picture:
And if you hang around someone who has this costume, you'll have a ball.
Ball, get it?
Yok! Yok!
Okay, moving on...
Get a vampire cape and fangs, but make your hair look messy and wear the goofiest looking clothes you can find. Behold, Count Dorkula!
Close your eyes. You are now the Invisible Man. This works for my son, as far as he knows.
Remember, if you use these ideas, I expect a cut of your Halloween candy.
Voila! You are white trash.
Stuck with a headless gorilla costume? Don't fret -- just get an old-school diving helmet, and you can be Ro-Man, the titular villain from "Robot Monster."I worked at a bookstore years ago and was stuck working on Halloween. I borrowed my brother's Darth Vader helmet and wore it with my regular shirt and tie (yes, and pants, too, sickos...). I even made myself a nametag that said "Darth."
You can never go wrong with a grass skirt, especially on Halloween. One year, my brother borrowed my grass skirt and one of my Hawaiian shirts and donned his George H.W. Bush mask. Tres popular.
I made a smiley-face mask (sewed it myself, even) and wore my brother's old Grim Reaper costume. If anyone asks what you are, tell them you're the Ghost of Wal-Mart Future.
"Watch out ... for falling prices..."
Put a paper grocery bag over your head (cut eyeholes in it first, of course). You can tell everyone you're the Unknown Comic. When they say "Who?", you can regale them with your extensive knowledge of the Unknown Comic's career.
If you're a fan of Katamari Damacy, wrap yourself up with double-stick tape and attach random items (even people, if you can manage). I bet someone has tried this, so let me see if I can find a picture on the Internet. Hang on a sec, okay?
...
Hmm. No luck so far. Well, you should look like the giant ball in the middle of this picture:
And if you hang around someone who has this costume, you'll have a ball.Ball, get it?
Yok! Yok!
Okay, moving on...
Get a vampire cape and fangs, but make your hair look messy and wear the goofiest looking clothes you can find. Behold, Count Dorkula!
Close your eyes. You are now the Invisible Man. This works for my son, as far as he knows.
Remember, if you use these ideas, I expect a cut of your Halloween candy.
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
Gonna sit right down and write me a book
National Novel Writing Month approacheth.
This is a cool project in which the goal is to have finished a 50,000-word novel by midnight, Nov. 30.
This year, I am a participant. I like that the thrust of the project is completion. It doesn't have to be 50,000 of the best writing ever. You just have to finish. It can be 50,000 words of crap, really.
I've been writing on and off since I was about 8 or 9, but I didn't get serious about it until high school.
It wasn't uncommon for me to get home from school and knock out 15 pages. I didn't have anything like a car or a social life to slow me down.
In college, I took a few creative writing courses, just to make sure I kept up with the writing. While I was in one class, I got published in a small magazine with my very first submission. I only submitted it go get extra credit in the class. In another class, I met my wife.
So even if I never wrote after that, I think I got a good deal.
But when I worked at my first newspaper, I weaseled my way in to writing a weekly humor column, which was a lot of fun. And now I'm doing pretty much the same this with this blog for where I work now.
The thing that surprises me the most is that, despite what everyone says, humor writers are not the groupie magnets they're made out to be.
True story.
I'm hoping the NaNoWriMo project will help me motivate myself to not get bogged down with the pre-writing process. If I spent half as much time actually writing as I did getting ready to write, I'd be telling this to Oprah when she picks my book for her book club.
So wish me luck, and I'll let you know how it's going.
This is a cool project in which the goal is to have finished a 50,000-word novel by midnight, Nov. 30.
This year, I am a participant. I like that the thrust of the project is completion. It doesn't have to be 50,000 of the best writing ever. You just have to finish. It can be 50,000 words of crap, really.
I've been writing on and off since I was about 8 or 9, but I didn't get serious about it until high school.
It wasn't uncommon for me to get home from school and knock out 15 pages. I didn't have anything like a car or a social life to slow me down.
In college, I took a few creative writing courses, just to make sure I kept up with the writing. While I was in one class, I got published in a small magazine with my very first submission. I only submitted it go get extra credit in the class. In another class, I met my wife.
So even if I never wrote after that, I think I got a good deal.
But when I worked at my first newspaper, I weaseled my way in to writing a weekly humor column, which was a lot of fun. And now I'm doing pretty much the same this with this blog for where I work now.
The thing that surprises me the most is that, despite what everyone says, humor writers are not the groupie magnets they're made out to be.
True story.
I'm hoping the NaNoWriMo project will help me motivate myself to not get bogged down with the pre-writing process. If I spent half as much time actually writing as I did getting ready to write, I'd be telling this to Oprah when she picks my book for her book club.
So wish me luck, and I'll let you know how it's going.
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
Camp Cucamonga ... oh yeah, oh yeah ...
You know, I should've been smart and just stuck to the plan. It's time for another installment of Bad Movies A to Z! Today's movie is sponsored by the letter C. Originally, I was going to review "Colossus: The Forbin Project." I put it in my Netflix queue and actually watched it.
Alas, it was a pretty good movie. Not a long of bang-pow-boot-to-the-head action, but a nice, thoughtful sci-fi flick. Kinda reminded me of "The Andromeda Strain" in tone.
Well, it's a lot harder to bust on a movie when it has more than one redeeming quality.
So I went to the Siftin' Movie Archive to find another suitable title. The Child? No. Challenge of the Superfriends? Too long.
And so today's movie is the 1990 TV-movie classic, "Camp Cucamonga."
God help us all.
Today's movie in a nutshell: Kids go to a summer camp and do things that kids do at summer camp when they are on TV.
The story: None.
Just kidding! "Col. Marv" Schecter (John Ratzenberger, who gets top billing in this movie) begins his first year as head of Camp Cucamonga. It's his dream to run a summer camp. In the off season, he's an accountant.
As the film begins, the campers are on their way to camp. I think I saw another bus, but it doesn't matter, because we're focusing on the one driven by a young Jennifer Aniston. While she's driving, we're introduced to our campers, who, in lieu of personalities, are given stereotypical personality traits.
It's like they took the characters from "Saved By the Bell," threw them in a blender and put the pieces back together. So while you have Max Plotkin ("The Wonder Years"' Josh Saviano), an Screech retread, the other semi-main character, Lindsey Scott (Danica McKellar, also of "The Wonder Years"), is a tough metalhead whose parents are getting divorced. No SBTB connection there, you're thinking.
Ah, but what about that weird half-season of their senior year when tough-chick Tori (she of the perpetual leather jacket) transferred to Bayside?
No, I didn't watch the show. I don't know what you're talking about.
Stop looking at me like that.
Anyhow, we're introduced to them in short order, and it really doesn't matter what they're like, because the whole novelty of the movie is that it is populated by your favorite TV stars.
They used to do this once a year or so -- just lump together a bunch of people from different shows on different networks and put them in an innocuous piece of fluff.
Sort of like "Love Boat."
They're actually more interesting to watch now, just for the "before they were famous" factor. When I saw "Friends" for the first time, I recognized Jennifer Aniston as "that cute chick from 'Camp Cucamonga' who wasn't Winnie Cooper."
Meanwhile, Camp Cucamonga's handyman (who also showed up as a teacher on "Saved By the Bell") and Col. Marv have a spat, and the handyman walks, even though there are plenty of repairs that need to be done.
You see, the camp is due to be inspected to earn its accreditation and stuff needs to be fixed before the inspector shows up.
I know you're not supposed to think with movies like this, but even when this was first on, I wondered why the repairs weren't already finished before camp started. And it gets worse later.
Col. Marv calls another handyman to make emergency repairs before the inspection, which will be very soon.
The campers get set up, and there's the "meet cute" between Roger (Brian Robbins, "Head of the Class"), a cocky counselor, and Ava (Jennifer Aniston, who was on NBC's "Ferris Bueller" show). I wasn't about to stop the tape and rewind it enough times to transcribe this perfectly, but you know how it goes:
Col. Marv greets the campers and looks like a doofus.
Roger: Who is this doofus?
Ava: My father.
Wah-wah-wahhhhh!
In the cabins, Max is the outcast of his bunk, and Lindsey doesn't get along with her bunkmates, either. Perhaps it's the Motley Crue T-shirt she wears. The unspoken leader of the girls bunk, Amber (Candace Cameron, "Full House") is going out with Frankie (Chad Allen, "Our House"), the golden boy in Max's cabin. Jennifer (Tasha Scott, "Snoops") seems interested in Dennis (Jaleel White, Urkel himself).
Everybody else is there to take up space.
Max tries very hard to befriend Lindsey, but she wants to go back home ASAP. Her parents are getting a divorce, and she feels like she's being punished by being sent to camp.
Meanwhile in the B-plot, Col. Marv is awaiting both the inspector and the handyman. He's pissed that the handyman isn't there yet.
Up drives Herbert Himmel. He's wearing a suit because he just got back from a wedding. So when he finds Col. Marv, Col. Marv assumes that he's the inspector.
I don't know about you, but when I hire someone, I try to get their name. Failing that, I at least find out who they are. But not at Camp Cucamonga. Their dialogue is tailored so that neither will discover this case of mistaken identity.
Col. Marv proceeds with some butt-kissing, trying to delay the "inspector" from finding the stuff that needs repairs.
There are some dumb camp hi-jinks that at least get a few points for trying (sneaking a camera into the girls' shower, etc.), but they only take up as much time as the story demands.
Roger is trying to impress Ava, but she thinks he's a jerk.
To condense a little, the inspector shows up. But he looks a little scruffy because his car broke down. Col. Marv, thinking he's the tardy handyman, admonishes him and tells him to get to work without asking who he is. Col. Marv has to be this dumb; otherwise the plot wouldn't move forward and there'd be no false sense of drama.
My biggest problem with this movie at this point was that I was sitting with my leg folded underneath me, so when I got up to get something to drink, both my leg and half of my butt had fallen asleep.
But enough about me.
SOme of the guys sneak off with some girls to enjoy a private meal -- steaks stolen from Col. Marv's kitchen. Max insists on tagging along because he supposedly knows how to cook them. He gets Lindsey to go with him. He burns the steaks into oblivion and gets everyone lost to boot.
After a big search, they're found by Col. Marv. When they get back to camp, the inspector reveals his true identity, and the camp's future is in danger, as is the health of real handyman, who has been enjoying the treatment he's been getting.
The kids feel a little responsible and, at Roger's suggestion, decide to contact the head of the inspection agency. The letters are getting nowhere until Lindsey comes up with what is probably the best idea ever: a rap video.
No sooner said than done. Dennis and Jennifer handle the main chores of the Camp Cucamonga rap, which soundsripped off of inspired by "Bust a Move" by Young MC.
I hope that someday Jennifer Aniston develops a cure for cancer or something equally important, because I want a clip from this video to accompany all the news stories.
She doesn't have to sing, but she's in there, busting a move.
Well, the inspector loves the video and decides to give the camp one more chance. Yay! Lindsey is getting more popular with Frankie, and that bothers Amber, who reveals to the girls in the cabin that Lindsey has been sending letters to herself to make it appear that she'd been getting mail from home.
Except when she reads the letter, it's really from Lindsey's mom. Her parents are really getting a divorce.
Wah-wah-wahhhhh...
She bolts for the bus stop the day the two bunks are supposed to compete together in the last event of the Battle of the Bunks. If they win the baseball game, they win the whole battle. Decisions, decisions...
Leaving only a few people to play baseball, the main group goes after Lindsey. When Ava and Roger find out they're all gone, their plans are interrupted by the sudden appearance of Lindsey's mom, who arrives unannounced. They find her right before she gets on the bus and convince her to stay.
Our heroes return just in time for the very end of the game. Their team is down by quite a bit, but through hard work, determination and predictable writing, they win.
Huzzah!
Max, who hit the winning run, is now Mr. Popular. He tells Lindsey that they can't go steady anymore (even though they weren't anyway), and she humors him. Amber and Frankie also go their separate ways.
I go to the pantry for a snack, but nothing looks good. By the time I get back, the credits are rolling. I hope I didn't miss anything. I doubt it.
Afterthoughts: I don't know that I would invite people over especially to watch this, but it's better than some stuff I've watched (or bought deliberately).
In particular, Jennifer Aniston does fairly well. Aside from appearing in the Camp Cucamonga rap video, she doesn't embarrass herself. Everyone else does okay, too. As best they could with what they had, I guess.
This has been released on DVD, but I watched it on the old-school VHS copy we scored back in the day at Wal-Mart for like $4.88 or something.
I'm a little curious to see another one of these all-star TV-movies. I can remember three off the top of my head: "High School USA," with Michael J. Fox and Nancy McKeon; "Murder Can Hurt You," a detective spoof with Gavin McLeod and Tony Danza (who doesn't play a guy named Tony for a change -- this time, it's Pony. No kidding.); and "Crash Course," with Alyssa Milano and Tina Yothers. I'm sure they're out there somewhere. Heck, I think I taped "High School USA."
I'll have to look for it in the archives.
Well, that's it for C. Join me again next time (hopefully this year) for Bad Movies A to Z.
Alas, it was a pretty good movie. Not a long of bang-pow-boot-to-the-head action, but a nice, thoughtful sci-fi flick. Kinda reminded me of "The Andromeda Strain" in tone.
Well, it's a lot harder to bust on a movie when it has more than one redeeming quality.
So I went to the Siftin' Movie Archive to find another suitable title. The Child? No. Challenge of the Superfriends? Too long.
And so today's movie is the 1990 TV-movie classic, "Camp Cucamonga."
God help us all.Today's movie in a nutshell: Kids go to a summer camp and do things that kids do at summer camp when they are on TV.
The story: None.
Just kidding! "Col. Marv" Schecter (John Ratzenberger, who gets top billing in this movie) begins his first year as head of Camp Cucamonga. It's his dream to run a summer camp. In the off season, he's an accountant.
As the film begins, the campers are on their way to camp. I think I saw another bus, but it doesn't matter, because we're focusing on the one driven by a young Jennifer Aniston. While she's driving, we're introduced to our campers, who, in lieu of personalities, are given stereotypical personality traits.
It's like they took the characters from "Saved By the Bell," threw them in a blender and put the pieces back together. So while you have Max Plotkin ("The Wonder Years"' Josh Saviano), an Screech retread, the other semi-main character, Lindsey Scott (Danica McKellar, also of "The Wonder Years"), is a tough metalhead whose parents are getting divorced. No SBTB connection there, you're thinking.
Ah, but what about that weird half-season of their senior year when tough-chick Tori (she of the perpetual leather jacket) transferred to Bayside?
No, I didn't watch the show. I don't know what you're talking about.
Stop looking at me like that.
Anyhow, we're introduced to them in short order, and it really doesn't matter what they're like, because the whole novelty of the movie is that it is populated by your favorite TV stars.
They used to do this once a year or so -- just lump together a bunch of people from different shows on different networks and put them in an innocuous piece of fluff.
Sort of like "Love Boat."
They're actually more interesting to watch now, just for the "before they were famous" factor. When I saw "Friends" for the first time, I recognized Jennifer Aniston as "that cute chick from 'Camp Cucamonga' who wasn't Winnie Cooper."Meanwhile, Camp Cucamonga's handyman (who also showed up as a teacher on "Saved By the Bell") and Col. Marv have a spat, and the handyman walks, even though there are plenty of repairs that need to be done.
You see, the camp is due to be inspected to earn its accreditation and stuff needs to be fixed before the inspector shows up.
I know you're not supposed to think with movies like this, but even when this was first on, I wondered why the repairs weren't already finished before camp started. And it gets worse later.
Col. Marv calls another handyman to make emergency repairs before the inspection, which will be very soon.
The campers get set up, and there's the "meet cute" between Roger (Brian Robbins, "Head of the Class"), a cocky counselor, and Ava (Jennifer Aniston, who was on NBC's "Ferris Bueller" show). I wasn't about to stop the tape and rewind it enough times to transcribe this perfectly, but you know how it goes:
Col. Marv greets the campers and looks like a doofus.
Roger: Who is this doofus?
Ava: My father.
Wah-wah-wahhhhh!
In the cabins, Max is the outcast of his bunk, and Lindsey doesn't get along with her bunkmates, either. Perhaps it's the Motley Crue T-shirt she wears. The unspoken leader of the girls bunk, Amber (Candace Cameron, "Full House") is going out with Frankie (Chad Allen, "Our House"), the golden boy in Max's cabin. Jennifer (Tasha Scott, "Snoops") seems interested in Dennis (Jaleel White, Urkel himself).
Everybody else is there to take up space.
Max tries very hard to befriend Lindsey, but she wants to go back home ASAP. Her parents are getting a divorce, and she feels like she's being punished by being sent to camp.
Meanwhile in the B-plot, Col. Marv is awaiting both the inspector and the handyman. He's pissed that the handyman isn't there yet.
Up drives Herbert Himmel. He's wearing a suit because he just got back from a wedding. So when he finds Col. Marv, Col. Marv assumes that he's the inspector.
I don't know about you, but when I hire someone, I try to get their name. Failing that, I at least find out who they are. But not at Camp Cucamonga. Their dialogue is tailored so that neither will discover this case of mistaken identity.
Col. Marv proceeds with some butt-kissing, trying to delay the "inspector" from finding the stuff that needs repairs.
There are some dumb camp hi-jinks that at least get a few points for trying (sneaking a camera into the girls' shower, etc.), but they only take up as much time as the story demands.
Roger is trying to impress Ava, but she thinks he's a jerk.
To condense a little, the inspector shows up. But he looks a little scruffy because his car broke down. Col. Marv, thinking he's the tardy handyman, admonishes him and tells him to get to work without asking who he is. Col. Marv has to be this dumb; otherwise the plot wouldn't move forward and there'd be no false sense of drama.
My biggest problem with this movie at this point was that I was sitting with my leg folded underneath me, so when I got up to get something to drink, both my leg and half of my butt had fallen asleep.
But enough about me.
SOme of the guys sneak off with some girls to enjoy a private meal -- steaks stolen from Col. Marv's kitchen. Max insists on tagging along because he supposedly knows how to cook them. He gets Lindsey to go with him. He burns the steaks into oblivion and gets everyone lost to boot.
After a big search, they're found by Col. Marv. When they get back to camp, the inspector reveals his true identity, and the camp's future is in danger, as is the health of real handyman, who has been enjoying the treatment he's been getting.
The kids feel a little responsible and, at Roger's suggestion, decide to contact the head of the inspection agency. The letters are getting nowhere until Lindsey comes up with what is probably the best idea ever: a rap video.
No sooner said than done. Dennis and Jennifer handle the main chores of the Camp Cucamonga rap, which sounds
I hope that someday Jennifer Aniston develops a cure for cancer or something equally important, because I want a clip from this video to accompany all the news stories.
She doesn't have to sing, but she's in there, busting a move.
Well, the inspector loves the video and decides to give the camp one more chance. Yay! Lindsey is getting more popular with Frankie, and that bothers Amber, who reveals to the girls in the cabin that Lindsey has been sending letters to herself to make it appear that she'd been getting mail from home.
Except when she reads the letter, it's really from Lindsey's mom. Her parents are really getting a divorce.
Wah-wah-wahhhhh...
She bolts for the bus stop the day the two bunks are supposed to compete together in the last event of the Battle of the Bunks. If they win the baseball game, they win the whole battle. Decisions, decisions...
Leaving only a few people to play baseball, the main group goes after Lindsey. When Ava and Roger find out they're all gone, their plans are interrupted by the sudden appearance of Lindsey's mom, who arrives unannounced. They find her right before she gets on the bus and convince her to stay.
Our heroes return just in time for the very end of the game. Their team is down by quite a bit, but through hard work, determination and predictable writing, they win.
Huzzah!
Max, who hit the winning run, is now Mr. Popular. He tells Lindsey that they can't go steady anymore (even though they weren't anyway), and she humors him. Amber and Frankie also go their separate ways.
I go to the pantry for a snack, but nothing looks good. By the time I get back, the credits are rolling. I hope I didn't miss anything. I doubt it.
Afterthoughts: I don't know that I would invite people over especially to watch this, but it's better than some stuff I've watched (or bought deliberately).
In particular, Jennifer Aniston does fairly well. Aside from appearing in the Camp Cucamonga rap video, she doesn't embarrass herself. Everyone else does okay, too. As best they could with what they had, I guess.
This has been released on DVD, but I watched it on the old-school VHS copy we scored back in the day at Wal-Mart for like $4.88 or something.
I'm a little curious to see another one of these all-star TV-movies. I can remember three off the top of my head: "High School USA," with Michael J. Fox and Nancy McKeon; "Murder Can Hurt You," a detective spoof with Gavin McLeod and Tony Danza (who doesn't play a guy named Tony for a change -- this time, it's Pony. No kidding.); and "Crash Course," with Alyssa Milano and Tina Yothers. I'm sure they're out there somewhere. Heck, I think I taped "High School USA."
I'll have to look for it in the archives.
Well, that's it for C. Join me again next time (hopefully this year) for Bad Movies A to Z.
But, I'm funny how? Funny like a clown? I amuse you?
Old clowns never die, they just leave greasepaint on your bumper.
-- Jeff Sparkman
Like some people, I do not like clowns.Not because they wear strange clothes, and not because they are staggeringly unfunny. In fact, there are quite talented clowns out there who have a strong dedication to their craft.
Why do clowns bug me? Because they think they have the power to force you to smile or appear happy. If you don't laugh at a clown, this somehow makes you a humorless ogre.
Maybe I don't want to smile. Did that occur to you, Mr. Clown? I bear you no ill will. Just let me maintain my non-smiling demeanor until such time that merriment is appropriate.
What if the police used armies of clowns as behavior-modification forces?
"They're rioting down at City Hall!"
"You know what to do, Clancy. Send in the clowns."
Monday, October 24, 2005
Must-See TV (no, for real)
All right, cats and kittens, mark this down on your calendar. This Wednesday, AMC's MonsterFest offerings include a showing of "The Devil's Rain." It's at 6:45 a.m., but you could always record it and watch it later.
How could you not like a movie that has this kind of a tagline: "Heaven help us all when The Devil's Rain!"
No, I'm not mistyping that. Look for yourself.
My head just about exploded when I tried to figure out what they thought they were saying. I suppose you could think of it as a play on words that works when you say it out loud, but even that's being generous.
I presume they mean "Heaven help us all when the devils reign," but there's a real easy way to do that.
Spell it right.
Aw, but then it doesn't match the title of the movie.
How about "Look, up in the sky! It's a bird! It's a plane! It's The Devil's Rain!" or "Don't let your soul get dampened by The Devil's Rain!"
Or they could change the name of the movie.
But The Devil's Rain refers to a container in which people's souls are kept.
Well, now I'm getting ahead of myself.
Ernest Borgnine is devil worshipper Jonathan Corbis. He wants a book that has names of people who sold their souls to the devil. The Preston family has been keeping that book safe for a kajillion or so years, which is why Corbis has it in for them.
This movie is interesting in a weird kind of way. It's not train-wreck bad, but it's not a really good flick, either. I think the thing that is most unsettling about it (and is probably its best quality) is its off-kilter feel.
During the whole movie, things just seemed like they were a little off. I really don't know why. It's a lot quieter than you'd expect it to be, and people don't always react the way you'd think.
For example, at the beginning, Mark Preston (my boy William Shatner) and his mother (Ida Lupino) are worried that Mark's father is missing. Right on cue, the elder Preston shows up, and right off the bat, you can see that something's not right.
For starters, he's a little melty. His skin looks like someone dumped a couple of Yoplaits on his head on a summer day. How he managed to get home, I don't know, as he sports empty-looking eye sockets. He warns his family about who did this to him, a man named Corbis, and he melts away, saying "What a world, what a world."
Or something like that.
Now, I don't know about you, but if one of my family members shows up and melts if front of me, I'd be a little upset.
But not Mark Preston. With Shatner playing this guy, you'd think there would be some kind of emotional reaction. Okay, maybe not him shaking in anger before bellowing "KHAAAAAAAAAAAAN!" (Sound on that link, btw.), but a little something. Nope.
Another unsettling thing about this movie, and I think this works against it a little, is that there isn't a main protagonist to focus on. At first, you think Mark Preston is the main guy, but then we meet his brother, who the story follows as well. It seems a little distracted. This is exacerbated by the casting.
Don't get me wrong; it's an impressive cast. Besides Shatner and Lupino, there's also Eddie Albert, Tom Skerritt and Ernest Borgnine. Oh, and John Travolta, but you'd never know it's him if you weren't looking.
Often in horror movies, the "name" actor is your main character, with lesser-known supporting players. Ideally, it's because the name actor is the best suited for the role, but failing that, it helps the viewer keep track of the action because they know who he is.
How many times have you seen a horror movie with a bunch of unknowns and you weren't always sure what was going on? Even when you're paying attention, it's not always easy -- characterization isn't always a big component in horror flicks.
But here, almost all of the main characters are familiar faces.
Oh, well, I guess that means you just have to pay more attention. The running time goes by pretty quickly if quietly. The ghost town setting helps with the creepy feel.
This movie is known for its big ending. They even hype it on the DVD cover.
They still didn't fix the grammar, but that's the way it goes, I guess.
There are two things about the ending that are notable, but the primary one is a mass melting in which a bunch of people melt into puddles of goo. Why this happens or what happens after that, I won't tell you, but it's an interesting looking effect.
It makes me wonder if that effect is what the movie was built around. The Incredible Melting Man seems to have been made around similar but even more disgusting melting flesh effects.
To make a long story short (too late), this is a pretty decent watch. Check it out, preferably in a dark room with a few friends and a bowl of popcorn.
How could you not like a movie that has this kind of a tagline: "Heaven help us all when The Devil's Rain!"
No, I'm not mistyping that. Look for yourself.
My head just about exploded when I tried to figure out what they thought they were saying. I suppose you could think of it as a play on words that works when you say it out loud, but even that's being generous.I presume they mean "Heaven help us all when the devils reign," but there's a real easy way to do that.
Spell it right.
Aw, but then it doesn't match the title of the movie.
How about "Look, up in the sky! It's a bird! It's a plane! It's The Devil's Rain!" or "Don't let your soul get dampened by The Devil's Rain!"
Or they could change the name of the movie.
But The Devil's Rain refers to a container in which people's souls are kept.
Well, now I'm getting ahead of myself.
Ernest Borgnine is devil worshipper Jonathan Corbis. He wants a book that has names of people who sold their souls to the devil. The Preston family has been keeping that book safe for a kajillion or so years, which is why Corbis has it in for them.
This movie is interesting in a weird kind of way. It's not train-wreck bad, but it's not a really good flick, either. I think the thing that is most unsettling about it (and is probably its best quality) is its off-kilter feel.
During the whole movie, things just seemed like they were a little off. I really don't know why. It's a lot quieter than you'd expect it to be, and people don't always react the way you'd think.
For example, at the beginning, Mark Preston (my boy William Shatner) and his mother (Ida Lupino) are worried that Mark's father is missing. Right on cue, the elder Preston shows up, and right off the bat, you can see that something's not right.
For starters, he's a little melty. His skin looks like someone dumped a couple of Yoplaits on his head on a summer day. How he managed to get home, I don't know, as he sports empty-looking eye sockets. He warns his family about who did this to him, a man named Corbis, and he melts away, saying "What a world, what a world."
Or something like that.
Now, I don't know about you, but if one of my family members shows up and melts if front of me, I'd be a little upset.
But not Mark Preston. With Shatner playing this guy, you'd think there would be some kind of emotional reaction. Okay, maybe not him shaking in anger before bellowing "KHAAAAAAAAAAAAN!" (Sound on that link, btw.), but a little something. Nope.
Another unsettling thing about this movie, and I think this works against it a little, is that there isn't a main protagonist to focus on. At first, you think Mark Preston is the main guy, but then we meet his brother, who the story follows as well. It seems a little distracted. This is exacerbated by the casting.
Don't get me wrong; it's an impressive cast. Besides Shatner and Lupino, there's also Eddie Albert, Tom Skerritt and Ernest Borgnine. Oh, and John Travolta, but you'd never know it's him if you weren't looking.
Often in horror movies, the "name" actor is your main character, with lesser-known supporting players. Ideally, it's because the name actor is the best suited for the role, but failing that, it helps the viewer keep track of the action because they know who he is.
How many times have you seen a horror movie with a bunch of unknowns and you weren't always sure what was going on? Even when you're paying attention, it's not always easy -- characterization isn't always a big component in horror flicks.
But here, almost all of the main characters are familiar faces.
Oh, well, I guess that means you just have to pay more attention. The running time goes by pretty quickly if quietly. The ghost town setting helps with the creepy feel.
This movie is known for its big ending. They even hype it on the DVD cover.
They still didn't fix the grammar, but that's the way it goes, I guess.There are two things about the ending that are notable, but the primary one is a mass melting in which a bunch of people melt into puddles of goo. Why this happens or what happens after that, I won't tell you, but it's an interesting looking effect.
It makes me wonder if that effect is what the movie was built around. The Incredible Melting Man seems to have been made around similar but even more disgusting melting flesh effects.
To make a long story short (too late), this is a pretty decent watch. Check it out, preferably in a dark room with a few friends and a bowl of popcorn.
Sunday, October 23, 2005
If there's a gazebo with a giant cheeseburger on it, I want my money back
Oh, dear.
I discovered this potentially horrifying event from the good folks at WFMU's Beware the Blog.
There's a movie in production called Across the Universe.
From the plot summary on IMDB.com (which, for all I know, could be completely bogus):
I may be overreacting, as I know next to nothing about this. But what else is the Internet for if not bemoaning the poor quality of as-yet-unfinished movies? It could be quite clever and make good use of the Beatles songs.
On the other hand, it could be another "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band."
A quick description: Peter Frampton and the Bee Gees are the titular musicians in this dialogue-free (except for narration from George Burns) musical. An evil real estate developer steals the magical instruments that keep Heartland happy, and it's up to our heroes to get them back while dealing with skyrocketing to fame.
This, I'm sure, will surprise no one: I like this movie. Have since I was about 5. Not because it's any good. It's astounding, really.
It has something never seen before or since in a movie. I will try to explain this as best I can. Keep in mind that this really happens.
Oh, and should you care about what meager plot development is in this flick, don't read ahead if you want the end spoiled.
Okay, we've got only a few minutes left in the movie, and things are looking pretty grim. The band reclaimed the instruments, but after a (ahem) spectacular battle between SPLHCB (man, if you think I'm typing Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band again, you're crazy) and the Future Villain Band (essayed quite menacingly by Aerosmith; yes, Aerosmith was defeated by Peter Frampton and the Bee Gees), Strawberry Fields, girlfriend of lead singer Billy Shears (Frampton), pays the ultimate price.
But no expense is spared, and Strawberry is laid out in a glass coffin, to which Billy's bandmates sing "Carry That Weight," because, hey, they already used "She's So Heavy" earlier.
And yes, I know the real title is "I Want You (She's So Heavy)," but that would've ruined the joke, and we wouldn't want that, would we?
After the funeral, the bandmates are hanging out and mourning. Poor Billy is quite distraught. In fact, he can't bear to live without his love, so he decides to commit suicide --
-- by jumping from a second story window in his house.
Sure, if he does it right, he can easily die. People have died from lesser falls. But he leaps so that he would land on his back, so I don't know how badly he'd be hurt. But we're not supposed to be thinking about this, because it's very sad and dramatic.
Now as Billy is taking a flying leap, something strange is afoot at City Hall. Atop the building is a magic weather vane shaped like the town's beloved original Sgt. Pepper. It is said that it "would always point the way to happiness."
But there is no happiness in Heartland, so it spins and spins, looking for a direction in which happiness might be found. It spins around so fast that the weather vane is transformed into
Billy Preston in a gold lamé Sgt. Pepper uniform!
OMGWTFBBQ!
He begins to sing "Get Back" and uses his magical powers to first reverse Billy's trajectory.
After that, with a flick of a finger, he changes the major and minor villains' clothes to choirboy, nun, pope and saint (beats me...).
Then, faster than you can say deus ex weather vane, Strawberry is returned to the land of the living and they all live happily ever after.
How do you top that?
Well ...
The magical Pepper's last feat is to transport a gazillion musicians and celebrities to the steps of City Hall for a reprise of the title song.
All of this, I guess, is a really long way of saying that this new movie would have to try reeeeeeeeally hard to be the weirdest Beatle-related/based movie.
Don't forget, there's also the earlier "All This and World War II," in which covers of Beatles songs are paired with World War II news footage.
Discuss.
Sadly, this movie was released shortly after my second birthday, and I've never seen it on video, so I can't say authoritatively that it sucks like a Hoover with a hemi.
But I could probably hazard a guess...
I discovered this potentially horrifying event from the good folks at WFMU's Beware the Blog.
There's a movie in production called Across the Universe.
From the plot summary on IMDB.com (which, for all I know, could be completely bogus):
A romantic musical told mainly through numerous Beatles songs performed by the characters.
I may be overreacting, as I know next to nothing about this. But what else is the Internet for if not bemoaning the poor quality of as-yet-unfinished movies? It could be quite clever and make good use of the Beatles songs.
On the other hand, it could be another "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band."
A quick description: Peter Frampton and the Bee Gees are the titular musicians in this dialogue-free (except for narration from George Burns) musical. An evil real estate developer steals the magical instruments that keep Heartland happy, and it's up to our heroes to get them back while dealing with skyrocketing to fame.
This, I'm sure, will surprise no one: I like this movie. Have since I was about 5. Not because it's any good. It's astounding, really.
It has something never seen before or since in a movie. I will try to explain this as best I can. Keep in mind that this really happens.
Oh, and should you care about what meager plot development is in this flick, don't read ahead if you want the end spoiled.
Okay, we've got only a few minutes left in the movie, and things are looking pretty grim. The band reclaimed the instruments, but after a (ahem) spectacular battle between SPLHCB (man, if you think I'm typing Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band again, you're crazy) and the Future Villain Band (essayed quite menacingly by Aerosmith; yes, Aerosmith was defeated by Peter Frampton and the Bee Gees), Strawberry Fields, girlfriend of lead singer Billy Shears (Frampton), pays the ultimate price.
But no expense is spared, and Strawberry is laid out in a glass coffin, to which Billy's bandmates sing "Carry That Weight," because, hey, they already used "She's So Heavy" earlier.
And yes, I know the real title is "I Want You (She's So Heavy)," but that would've ruined the joke, and we wouldn't want that, would we?
After the funeral, the bandmates are hanging out and mourning. Poor Billy is quite distraught. In fact, he can't bear to live without his love, so he decides to commit suicide --
-- by jumping from a second story window in his house.
Sure, if he does it right, he can easily die. People have died from lesser falls. But he leaps so that he would land on his back, so I don't know how badly he'd be hurt. But we're not supposed to be thinking about this, because it's very sad and dramatic.
Now as Billy is taking a flying leap, something strange is afoot at City Hall. Atop the building is a magic weather vane shaped like the town's beloved original Sgt. Pepper. It is said that it "would always point the way to happiness."
But there is no happiness in Heartland, so it spins and spins, looking for a direction in which happiness might be found. It spins around so fast that the weather vane is transformed into
Billy Preston in a gold lamé Sgt. Pepper uniform!
OMGWTFBBQ!
He begins to sing "Get Back" and uses his magical powers to first reverse Billy's trajectory.
After that, with a flick of a finger, he changes the major and minor villains' clothes to choirboy, nun, pope and saint (beats me...).
Then, faster than you can say deus ex weather vane, Strawberry is returned to the land of the living and they all live happily ever after.
How do you top that?
Well ...
The magical Pepper's last feat is to transport a gazillion musicians and celebrities to the steps of City Hall for a reprise of the title song.
All of this, I guess, is a really long way of saying that this new movie would have to try reeeeeeeeally hard to be the weirdest Beatle-related/based movie.
Don't forget, there's also the earlier "All This and World War II," in which covers of Beatles songs are paired with World War II news footage.
Discuss.
Sadly, this movie was released shortly after my second birthday, and I've never seen it on video, so I can't say authoritatively that it sucks like a Hoover with a hemi.
But I could probably hazard a guess...
Friday, October 21, 2005
Gettin' higgly wit' it
If I'm wrong, I'm sure someone will correct me, but Higglytown Heroes has been on for quite a while, and I have yet to see HH nesting dolls.
How were these not on the shelves the minute the show premiered?
And while we're at it with the whole predicting the future thing ...
Not specifically a comic book (although there were a number of them), Star Trek IV required the use of transparent aluminum for the crew's voyage home and had to settle for thick Plexiglas. Now it turns out that if they'd gone back to 2005 instead of 1986, they'd have had a chance to get transparent aluminum.
Go figure.
(via Monitor Duty)
Go figure.
(via Monitor Duty)
Comics predict the future again?
I saw this last night when I was checking my e-mail, but it's also a front-page story in today's paper.
Apparently, they've found a lost airman from World War II encased in a glacier in Kings Canyon National Park.
Over 40 years ago, in the pages of The Avengers #4, the legendary Captain America was discovered preserved in a block of ice.
Now, if I discover a baby in a rocket that crashes in my backyard, I'm going to be worried.
Apparently, they've found a lost airman from World War II encased in a glacier in Kings Canyon National Park.
Over 40 years ago, in the pages of The Avengers #4, the legendary Captain America was discovered preserved in a block of ice.
Now, if I discover a baby in a rocket that crashes in my backyard, I'm going to be worried.
Thursday, October 20, 2005
Comics predict the future
Here we see that the folks at DC Comics predicted the crappy screennames we'd be forced to take about two decades before the advent of America Online.
Amazing.
Monday, October 17, 2005
Smile, America
One of the things I like about being a dad is sharing things from my childhood with my son.
My brother and I took Brody to Chuck E. Cheese's last week.
I hadn't been to one in a long time. Chuck E. Cheese's Pizza Time Theatre was, at one point in my youth, the place to go for birthday celebrations. If you were lucky, you might go there and the roller rink.
It was one of the first places I'd been to that was so geared for kids. Yeah, there were playgrounds at McDonald's and stuff like that, but this was a restaurant, arcade and show all rolled up in one place.
The first time I went to Las Vegas, it was Chuck E. Cheese that it reminded me of: lots of attention-getting machines, food and beverage as a secondary draw, often cheesy entertainment and artificial lighting that made it seem like night no matter what the real time was.
I remember walking in through the kid-sized door out front and being almost assaulted by the sights and sounds: the clinking of tokens in receptacles, children shouting in excitement and the k-thunk-thunk-thunk of the wooden balls dropping at the skee ball lanes.
And if you timed it right, you might've caught part of the show. In fact, the show often sounded better from a distance; up close, the movement of the giant Teddy Ruxpin-like players was louder than the songs they were ostensibly performing.
All the CECs I visited were dimly lit almost to the point of being murky and dank, especially the arcade area.
Instead of blaming MTV or video games for my sometimes short attention span, I blame the Pizza Time Theatre. Birthday parties were particularly chaotic. First, you have a pack of children in close proximity to presents, which is enough of a distraction. Then, while the birthday kid is opening his presents, he's interrupted by the sporadic performances of the Pizza Time Players.
One minute, you're watching the unveiling of a G.I. Joe Dragonfly Assault Helicopter (with pilot Wild Bill), and then it's a giant rat singing a bad parody of a Beach Boys song. And, oh, the pizza's ready. This pitcher is Coke, and this one's root beer, and...
And if you ever wanted to see a land speed record, you should've seen us bolt from the table once the game tokens were distributed. You didn't want to have to wait to play Star Wars or Crystal Castles. Or maybe you wanted the skee ball lane with the sweet spot that made it easier to land the ball in the 50-point hole.
My visits to Chuck E. Cheese were mostly birthday-related (although we once went to competitor Showbiz Pizza for my birthday, which was like getting Loc Blocs instead of Legos), but we ended up living very close to one when I was in fifth grade.
That was the CEC that hosted my eighth-grade graduation dinner (relatively eventless except for a kid who had to go to the hospital for some reason near the end of the night). By this time, though, the luster was just about gone.
All the hard kids would hang out in the little mouseholes in the arcade to cop a smoke or make out. Pretty soon, the mouseholes were blocked by new (well, new to the arcade) video games.
A few years after that, we avoided going there, as there wasn't much to you could do. The skee ball games were dominated by unattended youngsters who, apparently lacking sufficient skee ball skills, decided to just walk up the ramp and deposit the balls in the 50-point spots. The games that we'd enjoyed playing years before were still there; some of the monitors were etched permanently from years of play.
A couple of friends of mine worked there in high school. They told me what horrors they faced having to dress up in the "rat suit" for parties. Kids yanked the tail off regularly or punched Chuck in the, uh, cheese wheels.
Once, after they'd closed, they sewed the tail back on the costume -- in the front -- and did a dance routine that would've been a hit at someone's birthday party.
So when we went to the local CEC, I really didn't know what to expect.
We walked in, and instead of having to adjust to the darkness, I had to adjust to the light. It was bright and friendly, and the layout wasn't as segmented as it used to be. There was seating surrounding the game area.
And by game area, I'm referring mostly to the redemption games, which outnumber the video games by a hefty margin.
We all got our hands stamped as we were let in. I was almost half expecting to be issued a Red Party Cup™, but I didn't see any.There was another seating area that was the main showroom, and that's where we sat. When the show started and Chuck and friends started jerking around to the music, Brody smiled.
We weren't sitting right up front, so we heard more of the music that the whirring and clicking of the musicbots.
It wasn't the same kind of show I watched so many times as a kid -- there were no waving flags on the walls, and the lights didn't dim -- but Brody seemed to enjoy it.
The one part that killed me was when the band decided to perform "a song from the 80s," making it sound as though it was an ancient era. The song was "Forever Your Girl," by Paula Abdul. I think I was in high school when that one came out.
After the pizza, we hit the floor for entertainment. Brody is not a big fan of rides so far. Even the one that looked like a dump truck or a grader was not something he wanted to be near.
He liked skee ball and a few of the other redemption games; he would hand me the balls and I'd roll them up the ramp. He would smile if I made a good shot.
There was no visit from the big rat, which I guess was good; I don't know how that would go over.
Above everything else, he liked the toy truck that we cashed in our tickets for. He's been playing with it nonstop since he got it.
I asked him when we left, "Brody, did you have fun?"
He held out his truck.
"Truck! Vrooom!" he beamed.
That was good enough for me.
Friday, October 14, 2005
He didn't get a fair shake
In DC Comics' Identity Crisis by Brad Meltzer, we found out that members of the Justice League of America used unorthodox methods when dealing with some super-villains.
It made me wonder if things like that happened to other things from my youth.
And then I thought of McDonaldland.
You don't see much of it anymore, but it used to be that we got regular 30- to 60-second peeks into this strange land. I remembered watching them and even playing with the McDonaldland playset, complete with train.
But having seen some original McDonaldland commercials in recent years, I made a somewhat disturbing discovery.
Grimace, Ronald's number-two, uh, guy, wasn't always among the good forces of McDonaldland. He started off as The Evil Grimace. Not only that, but he used to have four arms.
Crime used to be more prevalent in this realm. You had The Evil Grimace, who went around stealing milkshakes, there's the Hamburglar, who (duh) stole hamburgers. The Fry Guys (originally the Gobble-ins) would pilfer your french fries if you didn't keep your eyes on them, and Captain Crook was a pirate who couldn't resist Filet O'Fish sandwiches.
I'll give Captain Crook a pass, because anyone who reduces the probablility of me encountering a Filet O'Fish is all right in my book.
Big Mac the cop clearly had his hands full, and I'm assuming Ronald, as high potentate of the land, pressured him to clean up all this potential crime. But I suspect that Big Mac wasn't really that good of an officer. I get the feeling that he got his job because of his close relationship (brothers? cousins?) to Mayor McCheese.
McCheese was probably hassling Big Mac quite a bit, too, you know, like "I got you this job, so you better make it look like you're at least trying."
But what was he to do?
Captain Crook could always escape to the high seas. The Fry Guys had strength in numbers. You took out a few, more would rise to take their place.
And the Hamburglar was just too crafty.
That left The Evil Grimace. This isn't much of a surprise, because I noticed that, even as an evil creature, Grimace didn't seem all that bright.
This is how I think it might have happened:
Facing pressure from both Ronald and Mayor McCheese, Big Mac sets his sights on The Evil Grimace. He seeks out the services of The Professor.
"Professor, I need your help."
"Always glad to help, Big Mac. What can I do for you?"
"It's The Evil Grimace. I need to stop him. Kill him if necessary."
"Nothing can kill the Grimace."
So they devise a plan. They go to The Evil Grimace's cave while he's asleep. The plan goes awry when Grimace wakes up and goes on a rampage. Big Mac relies on his training and disarms Grimace. Twice.
While Grimace bellows at the loss of two of his arms, The Professor sneaks behind him and drops a brainwave inhibitor helmet on the purple blob. As soon as Grimace is under, The Professor brainwashes him, removing his tendencies for evil. Alas, this diminishes Grimace's already limited faculties, making him into the goofball we know him as today.
Once the process is complete, they fabricate an elaborate tale that cements Big Mac's status as the top cop in McDonaldland. The Professor doesn't say what really happened, and in exchange, Big Mac looks the other way when it comes to The Professor's "experiments."
Everyone is happy, and crime is reduced in McDonaldland. Eventually, Captain Crook is seen less frequently, and the Hamburglar becomes less interested in Grand Theft Burger and more interested with gaining a more youthful appearance.
And nobody even wonders about the missing souls from the neighboring Burger Kingdom: Sir Shakes-A-Lot, The Duke of Doubt, and poor Burger Thing.
Okay, time for lunch...
It made me wonder if things like that happened to other things from my youth.
And then I thought of McDonaldland.
You don't see much of it anymore, but it used to be that we got regular 30- to 60-second peeks into this strange land. I remembered watching them and even playing with the McDonaldland playset, complete with train.But having seen some original McDonaldland commercials in recent years, I made a somewhat disturbing discovery.
Grimace, Ronald's number-two, uh, guy, wasn't always among the good forces of McDonaldland. He started off as The Evil Grimace. Not only that, but he used to have four arms.
Crime used to be more prevalent in this realm. You had The Evil Grimace, who went around stealing milkshakes, there's the Hamburglar, who (duh) stole hamburgers. The Fry Guys (originally the Gobble-ins) would pilfer your french fries if you didn't keep your eyes on them, and Captain Crook was a pirate who couldn't resist Filet O'Fish sandwiches.
I'll give Captain Crook a pass, because anyone who reduces the probablility of me encountering a Filet O'Fish is all right in my book.
Big Mac the cop clearly had his hands full, and I'm assuming Ronald, as high potentate of the land, pressured him to clean up all this potential crime. But I suspect that Big Mac wasn't really that good of an officer. I get the feeling that he got his job because of his close relationship (brothers? cousins?) to Mayor McCheese.
McCheese was probably hassling Big Mac quite a bit, too, you know, like "I got you this job, so you better make it look like you're at least trying."
But what was he to do?
Captain Crook could always escape to the high seas. The Fry Guys had strength in numbers. You took out a few, more would rise to take their place.
And the Hamburglar was just too crafty.
That left The Evil Grimace. This isn't much of a surprise, because I noticed that, even as an evil creature, Grimace didn't seem all that bright.
This is how I think it might have happened:
Facing pressure from both Ronald and Mayor McCheese, Big Mac sets his sights on The Evil Grimace. He seeks out the services of The Professor.
"Professor, I need your help."
"Always glad to help, Big Mac. What can I do for you?"
"It's The Evil Grimace. I need to stop him. Kill him if necessary."
"Nothing can kill the Grimace."
So they devise a plan. They go to The Evil Grimace's cave while he's asleep. The plan goes awry when Grimace wakes up and goes on a rampage. Big Mac relies on his training and disarms Grimace. Twice.
While Grimace bellows at the loss of two of his arms, The Professor sneaks behind him and drops a brainwave inhibitor helmet on the purple blob. As soon as Grimace is under, The Professor brainwashes him, removing his tendencies for evil. Alas, this diminishes Grimace's already limited faculties, making him into the goofball we know him as today.
Once the process is complete, they fabricate an elaborate tale that cements Big Mac's status as the top cop in McDonaldland. The Professor doesn't say what really happened, and in exchange, Big Mac looks the other way when it comes to The Professor's "experiments."
Everyone is happy, and crime is reduced in McDonaldland. Eventually, Captain Crook is seen less frequently, and the Hamburglar becomes less interested in Grand Theft Burger and more interested with gaining a more youthful appearance.
And nobody even wonders about the missing souls from the neighboring Burger Kingdom: Sir Shakes-A-Lot, The Duke of Doubt, and poor Burger Thing.
Okay, time for lunch...
Sunday, October 09, 2005
'Worlds will live. Worlds will die.'
DC Comics is preparing to unleash "Infinite Crisis" on comic shops everywhere. You can get a spoiler-filled synopsis of the events leading up to this huge event here.
Twenty years ago, DC decided to clean house with the 12-issue maxi-series, "Crisis on Infinite Earths." The tagline for it was "Worlds will live. Worlds will die. And the universe will never be the same again."
When the series debuted, I was 10, and was just really getting to be a die-hard comic book nut. I learned of the series in a promo book they put out, DC Sampler. It was basically a collection of one- and two-page house ads designed to spotlight what was coming up. This particular sampler had cool cover art by the always-cool Fred Hembeck.In the ad, it was called "Universe: Crisis on Infinite Earths." I remember thinking, man, I've got to look for that.
As it is, I picked up Crisis #1 at 7-Eleven as part of a two-pack. I don't know if it was like that at other 7-Elevens, but at mine, most of the comics were bundled in pairs, and they weren't similar titles. I think the other comic in the pack was a Fantastic Four, but I'm not sure.
As this is a 20-year-old comic, I'm not worried about revealing plot points. But just in case, spoilers ahoy...
In only the first few pages, a group of villains called The Crime Syndicate are killed by a rampaging wall of anti-matter. Their Earth, their entire universe are wiped out.
Man oh man, this was good stuff.
For those of you who aren't comic book fans, I'll try to explain this as best I can.
DC Comics used to have a system of sorts that corresponded with their various heroes. Keep in mind they'd been publishing superhero comics for about 50 years by this time and had quite a stable.
Some of the heroes from the Golden Age didn't make it through the 1950s when comic books were accused of promoting juvenile deliquency, among other things. Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman made it through okay, but Flash, Green Lantern, Hawkman and others didn't.
Instead, new heroes with the same names were introduced. Eventually, the Golden Age heroes were revived. Turns out they didn't disappear; they were on a parallel earth. Our Flash, whose secret identity was Barry Allen, met up with Jay Garrick, the original Flash from the 40s. Jay was the Flash on what Barry called Earth-2 for matters of simplicity.
What started as a neat idea in an issue of the Flash snowballed into a huge, sprawling multiverse complete with numerous parallel worlds with duplicate versions of heroes.
Earth-1 was the "main" Earth. That's where current issues of our favorite DC comics were happening.
Earth-2 featured all the World War II-era heroes, including an older Superman, Batman, etc. As they began their careers in the 40s, they were about a generation older than the Earth-1 heroes. As time went on, this gap got a little wider.
Earth-3 was a version of Earth in which there were no superheroes (initially), but a group supervillains -- The Crime Syndicate, who bit the dust in the first few pages of Crisis #1. History was also skewed; actor Abraham Lincoln shot President John Wilkes Booth, and I think England declared independence from America.
There were also Earths X and S, and a whole lot of others.
To add to the potential confusion, there were tons of different stories that featured future events, and they didn't all match. For example, Superman, when he was Superboy, was a member of the Legion of Super-Heroes. The Legion took place in the 30th century.
But then Superman had also met Kamandi, the Last Boy on Earth, who lived on a post-apocalyptic Earth. Was Kamandi from another parallel Earth or was the Legion?
DC said that this was confusing to new readers and was part of the reason behind Crisis.
Now, speaking as someone who was a new reader then (and, keep in mind I was 10, which I believe was their target demographic at the time), I can say that I had no problem keeping up with it.
I actually liked the different Earths, and if I read two stories that contradicted each other, I just kinda picked which one I liked better. If it really got to be a point of contention (if I'd gotten in conversations with friends who also liked comics), I could come up with a way around the problem.
As cool as that first issue was, I didn't pick up another issue until #7. While I went to the comic book store fairly regularly, I still bought the bulk of my comics from Waldenbooks or drugstores.
I was standing at the spinner rack, skimming the comic when I saw what happened near the end: Superman's cousin, Supergirl, died. I was shocked.
(Yes, I know there've been like a jillion Supergirls since then. Don't make me explain it.)
I made a point to get the rest of the series. It was exciting because I didn't know what else was going to happen. Who else was going to die?
And then in the last issue, it was a huge battle starring just about every DC superhero I'd ever seen, plus a metric buttload of ones I hadn't seen.I picked up that last issue during a field trip to the library. During our lunch break, I traipsed down to the comic shop and snagged it with part of what I was supposed to use for lunch. (Sorry, Mom.)
I can still remember sitting downstairs in the children's library to avoid being spotted by my teacher. I read it in only a few minutes, trying to absorb every detail, noting deaths and rebirths.
Crisis remains one of my favorite comic series, and I'm interested in this new Crisis, just to see what's going on. I've read conflicting rumors of what the series is supposed to accomplish, but I'm still a little curious.
With all the crossovers and preludes, it's already a Crisis on a Finite Wallet.
Friday, October 07, 2005
Hair apparent
I remember looking at my parents' yearbooks, making fun of the doofy fashions. At least people won't make fun of what my generation was wearing, I thought. All the styles looked fairly respectable.
So then I was looking through my yearbooks and realized that, like a fine wine, heinous fashion needs time to mature.
Granted there are trends and fads that seem perfectly logical at the time, only to see years later that, well, maybe that wasn't the case.
I'm thinking of Union Bay jackets, pinning the legs of your jeans and multiple Swatches.
Then there are things that seemed a little odd even at the time and are practically incomprehensible any time after that.
Case in point:
What the hell were we thinking?
Sure, I like Batman as much as the next guy, but I'm not going to have his symbol carved and dyed on the back of my head.
Of course, they could reflect the Bat-signal off the back of my head these days, but that's not the point.
About the only benefit to this that I could think of is that it would eventually grow out.
Oh yeah, and hats. Hats would help, too.
I'm trying to remember what other things guys got carved in their hair, but I can't think of any.
The period between 1985-1992 was just not a very fashionable time. Cough-cough-mullet-cough-cough.
I was only spared a little because I wasn't fashionable then, either. I've always thought that I cultivated the classic, timeless dork look.
Just ask my wife.
And yes, that's a Garfield shirt. I forgot it was picture day.
I think out of all the years I got school pictures taken, I was actually prepared once.
In kindergarten.
So then I was looking through my yearbooks and realized that, like a fine wine, heinous fashion needs time to mature.
Granted there are trends and fads that seem perfectly logical at the time, only to see years later that, well, maybe that wasn't the case.
I'm thinking of Union Bay jackets, pinning the legs of your jeans and multiple Swatches.
Then there are things that seemed a little odd even at the time and are practically incomprehensible any time after that.
Case in point:
What the hell were we thinking? Sure, I like Batman as much as the next guy, but I'm not going to have his symbol carved and dyed on the back of my head.
Of course, they could reflect the Bat-signal off the back of my head these days, but that's not the point.
About the only benefit to this that I could think of is that it would eventually grow out.
Oh yeah, and hats. Hats would help, too.
I'm trying to remember what other things guys got carved in their hair, but I can't think of any.
The period between 1985-1992 was just not a very fashionable time. Cough-cough-mullet-cough-cough.
I was only spared a little because I wasn't fashionable then, either. I've always thought that I cultivated the classic, timeless dork look.Just ask my wife.
And yes, that's a Garfield shirt. I forgot it was picture day.
I think out of all the years I got school pictures taken, I was actually prepared once.
In kindergarten.
Making money where in your what?
While flipping through channels the other day, I caught part of an infomercial called (taking deep breath) "Making Money Quick and Easy at Your Kitchen Table in Your Underwear."
Apparently, it's to promote this program from I-guess-I'm-supposed-to-know-who-he-is-rich-guy Jeff Paul.
I didn't watch after I heard the name, but I looked up the Web site to find the name (which is different, depending on where you look) and I saw that there's a link called "Jeff Paul Exposed," which is perhaps a bad idea when promoting something that refers to working in your skivvies.
Just a thought.
Apparently, it's to promote this program from I-guess-I'm-supposed-to-know-who-he-is-rich-guy Jeff Paul.
I didn't watch after I heard the name, but I looked up the Web site to find the name (which is different, depending on where you look) and I saw that there's a link called "Jeff Paul Exposed," which is perhaps a bad idea when promoting something that refers to working in your skivvies.
Just a thought.
Never reaching the end
We can send a man to the moon, but science can't prevent Noodle-Roni's Shells & White Cheddar from reminding me of "Nights in White Satin."
If that song is now stuck in your head, I'm sorry.
At least it's not "It's a Small World."
...
Oh, great.
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
Roam if you want to
I read this morning that TV personality Nipsey Russell had died.
Nipsey, by the way, is one more baby name idea of mine that got shot down.
My exposure to Nipsey came primarily from watching him on the panel on "Match Game." The last thing I remember seeing him in was the Goldie Hawn comedy "Wildcats," in which he played a high school principal.
He seemed like an awfully nice guy; how could you not like someone who had the mad rhyming skills he did?
Years ago, I read one of those compilations of misheard song lyrics. Someone, somehow, heard this lyric from the B-52s song "Roam" -- "Roam if you want to" -- as "Whoa, Nipsey Russell."
So now, that's all I hear when that song comes on. Now you will, too.
I also learned from the ever-interesting Mark Evanier that Hamilton Camp died as well. It was only a week or so ago I mentioned that he was in two of the shortest-lived shows on television.
Nipsey, by the way, is one more baby name idea of mine that got shot down.My exposure to Nipsey came primarily from watching him on the panel on "Match Game." The last thing I remember seeing him in was the Goldie Hawn comedy "Wildcats," in which he played a high school principal.
He seemed like an awfully nice guy; how could you not like someone who had the mad rhyming skills he did?
Years ago, I read one of those compilations of misheard song lyrics. Someone, somehow, heard this lyric from the B-52s song "Roam" -- "Roam if you want to" -- as "Whoa, Nipsey Russell."
So now, that's all I hear when that song comes on. Now you will, too.
I also learned from the ever-interesting Mark Evanier that Hamilton Camp died as well. It was only a week or so ago I mentioned that he was in two of the shortest-lived shows on television.
At least it's shorter than "Hit Me in the Head With the Dodgeball"
I really should've done this yesterday, but I was trying to keep up with my son Brody, who, because he is 2, has more potential energy than a truckload of Red Bull.
Nicolas Cage and his wife welcomed their son to the world Monday. His name is Kal-el Coppola Cage.
Yes, he shares Superman's birth name. If I may geek out for a sec, I've seen it spelled in most news stories with a lower-case "e" rather than the usual upper-case. However, to be entirely accurate, Superman's name was originally given as Kal-L. It wasn't until the 1942 George Lowther novel "Superman" that it was changed to Kal-el with a lower-case "e." Eventually in the comics, it became Kal-El, and that's how it's been ever since.
I don't know if it's still the case, but at one point, Kal-El was said to be Kryptonese for "star child."
I'm just wondering how he talked his wife into going along with the name. When the topic of names came up when Jen was pregnant, I said I had a few ideas.
"Well, we're not naming him 'Kal-El' or anything like that," she informed me. I hadn't actually planned on doing so, but I was impressed that she knew what Superman's real name was.
I was shooting for Zod. Zod Sparkman -- tell me that's not cool.
Nicolas Cage and his wife welcomed their son to the world Monday. His name is Kal-el Coppola Cage.
Yes, he shares Superman's birth name. If I may geek out for a sec, I've seen it spelled in most news stories with a lower-case "e" rather than the usual upper-case. However, to be entirely accurate, Superman's name was originally given as Kal-L. It wasn't until the 1942 George Lowther novel "Superman" that it was changed to Kal-el with a lower-case "e." Eventually in the comics, it became Kal-El, and that's how it's been ever since.I don't know if it's still the case, but at one point, Kal-El was said to be Kryptonese for "star child."
I'm just wondering how he talked his wife into going along with the name. When the topic of names came up when Jen was pregnant, I said I had a few ideas.
"Well, we're not naming him 'Kal-El' or anything like that," she informed me. I hadn't actually planned on doing so, but I was impressed that she knew what Superman's real name was.
I was shooting for Zod. Zod Sparkman -- tell me that's not cool.
Monday, October 03, 2005
Dream a little dream
I used to hate sleeping. I was never that good at it. But as I've gotten older, a good night's sleep looks better and better all the time.
Lately, there's been a bonus: In my dreams, I see my son Harry.
It's been over four months since we lost him; he's been gone about twice as long as he was here.
It's weird. Most of the time, I'm fine, but sometimes, it just hits me, you know? I'm one of "those people" who has dealt with losing a child. That's not really the kind of person I associate with me.
Immature, a little too amused by fart jokes, sure. That's me in a nutshell.
The really odd thing about these dreams is that a lot of the time, I don't remember anything specific. I just wake up with the distinct impression of having talked to him.
It's something, I guess.
The few times I've remembered the dreams, Harry is older; probably about 10. No idea why. He still has the thick mop of hair and wears a shirt with Chewbacca on it. He sits on the branch of a large tree, which, now that I'm picturing it, is a willow, I think.
And we just talk. Not about anything important -- just stuff.
I don't have the dreams as often as I'd like, but it gives me a reason to look forward to sleeping every night.
Lately, there's been a bonus: In my dreams, I see my son Harry.
It's been over four months since we lost him; he's been gone about twice as long as he was here.
It's weird. Most of the time, I'm fine, but sometimes, it just hits me, you know? I'm one of "those people" who has dealt with losing a child. That's not really the kind of person I associate with me.
Immature, a little too amused by fart jokes, sure. That's me in a nutshell.
The really odd thing about these dreams is that a lot of the time, I don't remember anything specific. I just wake up with the distinct impression of having talked to him.
It's something, I guess.
The few times I've remembered the dreams, Harry is older; probably about 10. No idea why. He still has the thick mop of hair and wears a shirt with Chewbacca on it. He sits on the branch of a large tree, which, now that I'm picturing it, is a willow, I think.
And we just talk. Not about anything important -- just stuff.
I don't have the dreams as often as I'd like, but it gives me a reason to look forward to sleeping every night.
Saturday, October 01, 2005
Make the best of the situation
So I'm listening to Yahoo radio, and "Layla" comes on. I looked at the album title.
Yeah, the song's overplayed and all, but isn't that a bit harsh? After all, Eric Clapton is also the guy who gave us "It's In the Way That You Use It" from the soundtrack to "The Color of Money."
Hmm ... maybe not.
Yeah, the song's overplayed and all, but isn't that a bit harsh? After all, Eric Clapton is also the guy who gave us "It's In the Way That You Use It" from the soundtrack to "The Color of Money."
Hmm ... maybe not.
Friday, September 30, 2005
What a wookiee!
Man, let's just add one more thing to the list of things Chewbacca has done that I haven't. Kick a guy while he's down, why don't you?
But then again, bloggers don't pull people's arms out of their sockets when they lose. Wookiees are known to do that.
(via Fark)
But then again, bloggers don't pull people's arms out of their sockets when they lose. Wookiees are known to do that.
(via Fark)
Dumb idea du jour of the day
Like I've said before, I get lots of things floating through my head. Some, like Jell-O breast implants (safe, moldable, and hey, there's always room for Jell-O), are not such great ideas.
Some are dumb ideas with a spark of novelty. You be the judge.
My idea: a waffle iron with changeable iron plates. Each plate has a maze on it that kids can try to solve by pouring syrup on the path of their choice. To avoid getting too tired of the same maze, there are different mazes on the plates that fit into the iron.
Obvious problems: If you suck at mazes, your waffle is ice cold by the time you're done.
But as a novelty item, who knows?
The name would be something like The A-maze-ing Waffle Maker. One of my super powers is the ability to come up with a catchy if inane name for products.
I saw a commercial for a product called UrineGone. It's supposed to help clean up pet pee incidents, although they make a point to mention that it works for people, too. The announcer says the name of the product at least 30 times in just a minute or two, and each time, the name sounds lamer and lamer.
Instead of UrineGone, isn't PissAway a better name? Not only does it describe the product, but it's also indicative of what you're doing with your money when you buy it.
Some are dumb ideas with a spark of novelty. You be the judge.
My idea: a waffle iron with changeable iron plates. Each plate has a maze on it that kids can try to solve by pouring syrup on the path of their choice. To avoid getting too tired of the same maze, there are different mazes on the plates that fit into the iron.
Obvious problems: If you suck at mazes, your waffle is ice cold by the time you're done.
But as a novelty item, who knows?
The name would be something like The A-maze-ing Waffle Maker. One of my super powers is the ability to come up with a catchy if inane name for products.
I saw a commercial for a product called UrineGone. It's supposed to help clean up pet pee incidents, although they make a point to mention that it works for people, too. The announcer says the name of the product at least 30 times in just a minute or two, and each time, the name sounds lamer and lamer.
Instead of UrineGone, isn't PissAway a better name? Not only does it describe the product, but it's also indicative of what you're doing with your money when you buy it.
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
Hella-ween
Halloween is only a month away, and Jen and I are trying to figure out what Brody should dress up as.
More accurately, I'm looking for something I like that I can talk her into.
Fortunately, as Brody is becoming a rugged he-man, she's not pushing for the cute little pea pod costume. Last year he was a puppy, complete with cute-but-mildly-disturbing dog head/hood.
Much to my surprise, he didn't rip the hood off. He wasn't big on things covering his head then. Now, everything's a hat.
The H is because Mr. Man wants to know that I know that he knows his alphabet. As if I could forget. Instead of regular 2-year-old babble, I get to hear "ABCDEFG," etc., all day long.
Not that much of a complaint, really; I mean, he's 2 and he knows the alphabet already. He should be teaching his uncle.
So back to the whole costume thing.
I saw a nifty Batman costume at Target that looked like it would fit him. For his first Halloween, I thought this Spider-Man costume would be cool, but I knew he wouldn't wear the mask. I'm pretty sure they Photoshopped the mask on the kid in the picture.
I don't think it's the right size, but how cool/bizarre is this?
I didn't see this one at the store, but I'd be surprised if there's a kid dragging his parents to the Halloween costumes bellowing "I wanna be Thor!" This one is equally obscure (maybe less, thanks to the Justice League Unlimited cartoon), but at least it's not Thor.
And speaking of odd Halloween costumes, you have to check this out. Just for the Rubik's Cube costume alone.
Target's Web site has some interesting names for the costumes. As if Batman and Robin haven't endured enough gender-related pondering, here's the costume they offer for Batman's sidekick. Robyn? What's this hero's secret identity? Ann Drogynous?
Obviously, they haven'tbeen forced had the privilege of watching The Wiggles. Unless Sword is his last name...
And I'm sorry, but this is just wrong, wrong, wrong.
More accurately, I'm looking for something I like that I can talk her into.
Fortunately, as Brody is becoming a rugged he-man, she's not pushing for the cute little pea pod costume. Last year he was a puppy, complete with cute-but-mildly-disturbing dog head/hood.
Much to my surprise, he didn't rip the hood off. He wasn't big on things covering his head then. Now, everything's a hat.
Brody plops a shoe on my head.
"Hat! H!"
The H is because Mr. Man wants to know that I know that he knows his alphabet. As if I could forget. Instead of regular 2-year-old babble, I get to hear "ABCDEFG," etc., all day long.
Not that much of a complaint, really; I mean, he's 2 and he knows the alphabet already. He should be teaching his uncle.
So back to the whole costume thing.
I saw a nifty Batman costume at Target that looked like it would fit him. For his first Halloween, I thought this Spider-Man costume would be cool, but I knew he wouldn't wear the mask. I'm pretty sure they Photoshopped the mask on the kid in the picture.
I don't think it's the right size, but how cool/bizarre is this?
I didn't see this one at the store, but I'd be surprised if there's a kid dragging his parents to the Halloween costumes bellowing "I wanna be Thor!" This one is equally obscure (maybe less, thanks to the Justice League Unlimited cartoon), but at least it's not Thor.
And speaking of odd Halloween costumes, you have to check this out. Just for the Rubik's Cube costume alone.
Target's Web site has some interesting names for the costumes. As if Batman and Robin haven't endured enough gender-related pondering, here's the costume they offer for Batman's sidekick. Robyn? What's this hero's secret identity? Ann Drogynous?
Obviously, they haven't
And I'm sorry, but this is just wrong, wrong, wrong.
Professor Jeff's Planet Facts
- Uranus is the seventh planet from the sun.
- Uranus rotates sideways.
- Uranus has rings.
- Uranus has 27 moons.
- The atmosphere on Uranus contains hydrogen, helium, methane, ammonia, ethane, acetylene, carbon monoxide and hydrogen sulfide.
and sadly,
"Careful pronunciation may be necessary to avoid embarrassment; say 'YOOR a nus,' not 'your anus' or 'urine us.'"
Once again, facts get in the way of high comedy.
Monday, September 26, 2005
Modesto hits the big time
Today's Modesto sighting comes to us courtesy of the comic strip Pearls Before Swine by Stephan Pastis.
Lincoln, Lincoln, I've been thinkin', what the heck have I been drinkin?
I scored some new Jones Sodas at Target last week. They are Halloween-themed Target exclusives.
And coolest of all, they're in the little half-size cans.
I have a love-hate relationship with miniature versions of familiar products. On one hand, it's nice to have a smaller portion.
On the other hand, it messes with my sense of perception. I got Ritz Bits in my lunch when they were still a new phenomenon and thought that I had grown to Brobdingnagian proportions. Looking around, I noticed that I was still shorter than my peers and assumed that my new power was only evident when compared to snack crackers.
Plus, I had a lot of cough syrup that morning. But I digress.
The sodas come in four flavors: Candy Corn, Caramel Apple, Strawberry S'Lime and Scary Berry Lemonade.
Being the brave person I am -- plus I wanted to be a giant again -- I bought a four-pack of each and sampled them.
First tip: Make sure they are chilled. Warm soda is no fun, and in the case of Dr Pepper could be dangerous.
I drank a Dr Pepper that had been sitting in the car in the heat and I swear I almost burned my tongue off. Play it safe -- use ice.
Anyway, I tried Candy Corn first. One of the local grocery stores has offered a red licorice soda through their house brand line of sodas. It was actually pretty good, and it tasted remarkably like red licorice. Would Candy Corn live up to my expectations?
Well, yes and no. Thankfully, it wasn't as sweet as it could have been, but it didn't really hit me with the "Oh, this totally tastes like candy corn" realization I was hoping for.
It does taste a bit like candy corn. It has a kind of caramelly overtaste with hints of citrus in the background.
Look at me, I sound like a wine snob.
Caramel Apple was also not as sweet as I had feared and was pretty good. The caramel element was quite light, giving it a taste very close to Jones' Green Apple soda. Still, pretty tasty.
Strawberry S'Lime was OK. I usually get strawberry limeades when I go to Sonic, so I was a little disappointed that this didn't have the same bite I associate with this flavor pairing.
Scary Berry Lemonade was my least favorite. It wasn't particularly scary, I must say, and if not for the Halloween-themed can, wouldn't really stand out very much.
Jones Soda has in the past come up with a turkey-and-gravy flavored soda, so by comparison, these Halloween offerings are quite tame. I'm a little surprised they didn't try pumpkin.
At least now I can say that I drank four cans of soda in only a few minutes.
And coolest of all, they're in the little half-size cans.
I have a love-hate relationship with miniature versions of familiar products. On one hand, it's nice to have a smaller portion.
On the other hand, it messes with my sense of perception. I got Ritz Bits in my lunch when they were still a new phenomenon and thought that I had grown to Brobdingnagian proportions. Looking around, I noticed that I was still shorter than my peers and assumed that my new power was only evident when compared to snack crackers.
Plus, I had a lot of cough syrup that morning. But I digress.
The sodas come in four flavors: Candy Corn, Caramel Apple, Strawberry S'Lime and Scary Berry Lemonade.
Being the brave person I am -- plus I wanted to be a giant again -- I bought a four-pack of each and sampled them.
First tip: Make sure they are chilled. Warm soda is no fun, and in the case of Dr Pepper could be dangerous.
I drank a Dr Pepper that had been sitting in the car in the heat and I swear I almost burned my tongue off. Play it safe -- use ice.
Anyway, I tried Candy Corn first. One of the local grocery stores has offered a red licorice soda through their house brand line of sodas. It was actually pretty good, and it tasted remarkably like red licorice. Would Candy Corn live up to my expectations?
Well, yes and no. Thankfully, it wasn't as sweet as it could have been, but it didn't really hit me with the "Oh, this totally tastes like candy corn" realization I was hoping for.
It does taste a bit like candy corn. It has a kind of caramelly overtaste with hints of citrus in the background.
Look at me, I sound like a wine snob.
Caramel Apple was also not as sweet as I had feared and was pretty good. The caramel element was quite light, giving it a taste very close to Jones' Green Apple soda. Still, pretty tasty.
Strawberry S'Lime was OK. I usually get strawberry limeades when I go to Sonic, so I was a little disappointed that this didn't have the same bite I associate with this flavor pairing.
Scary Berry Lemonade was my least favorite. It wasn't particularly scary, I must say, and if not for the Halloween-themed can, wouldn't really stand out very much.
Jones Soda has in the past come up with a turkey-and-gravy flavored soda, so by comparison, these Halloween offerings are quite tame. I'm a little surprised they didn't try pumpkin.
At least now I can say that I drank four cans of soda in only a few minutes.
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