I haven't written much about comic books, which is a little odd, as I've been collecting them since I was really little.
Of course, in the early days, the comics were an occasional treat -- people knew I liked superheroes and would pick up a comic if they happened to pass a rack and wanted to get me something.
My dad brought us home a few comics from a trip he went on, and that was pretty cool. They were all Marvels (I was a staunch DC kid), so it took me a little bit longer to figure out what was happening because I didn't know Thor or the Avengers as well as I did Superman or the Justice League of America.
But once I turned about 8, I really started getting interested. It helped that the local comic shop at the time, Quake Comics, also has a sizable selection of paperbacks. My dad is a voracious reader, and we were both able to find cool stuff by going there.
Eventually, they phased out the paperbacks, and my brother and I started digging through all the back issues, marveling (so to speak) at the old comics from previous decades.
"12 cents for a comic!" we'd say. Because comics by then were a lot more expensive. I believe they were making the transition from 65 to 75 cents. To this day, I can multiply by 75 without having to do much thinking. For a measly six bucks, you could get eight comic books.
Now you're lucky to get two or three for that much.
Aside from the insanely goofy covers and interiors, my brother and I liked old comics because they smelled good. I don't know if you've ever smelled an old comic book (I'm referring to anything up through the mid- to late '70s), but it's one of those things that you never forget. It's similar to the smell used bookstores often have -- the almost sweet smell that gets stronger the closer the pages come to your nose.
By the time I hit junior high school, we tried to hit the comic store every week. Even now I think of Wednesday as New Comics Day. We'd moved by then, and while there wasn't a comic shop in our new hometown, if we were willing to drive 25 minutes to Modesto, we could pick up everything we wanted.
In fact, almost 20 years later, I go to the same store. Except now I bring my son with me. He's only 2, but he knows who Superman, Wonder Woman and Batman are.
Even if he calls all of them "Am-pan" (Batman).
He's hooked already. My job is done.
Monday, September 19, 2005
Friday, September 16, 2005
Down in the park
I've always pushed the edge of the whole "there's no such thing as a stupid question" thing.
The problem is that I have all these things running through my head and unless I say them, there's not really any way to get them to stop.
Unless I write them down.
My brother and I were talking about Great America a few weeks ago. Neither of us have been in a while, and we lamented the loss of many of the cool rides we enjoyed when we were younger.
We found all kinds of information about the park, courtesy of this very cool site.
I vaguely recalled that there was a sister Great America park, but my brother and I were intrigued to find that the sister park, in Gurnee, Ill., still has many of the inaugural Great America rides.
The Whizzer, which closed at our GA in 1988, was the first roller coaster I ever rode on. According to the site, it's still running in Gurnee.
Josh and I have penciled in a tentative road trip to Gurnee in the near future.
This got me to thinking. Theme parks aren't very, well, theme-ey anymore. Not around here, anyway. Aside from the old school Great America, we had Frontier Village, but that closed when I was a kid and I only vaguely recall having been there. I might not have.
Now it's just a collection of rides. Cool rides, to be sure, but there's no unifying theme.
This is where the idea thing I was talking about earlier comes in.
What's a theme that hasn't been done?
The human body.
You could get all kinds of funding from pharmaceutical companies, which, to be honest, could use some positive p.r., right? Each ride could have brief educational displays that you can read while you're waiting in line. And of course, the park would be divided into different areas. I can't decide if it shoulid be divided by location or by type of process. Oh, well.
Off the top of my head, here are some ride ideas:
The Centrifuge
A lot of these are existing types of rides that are redressed to fit in with the theme. Here we have a Gravitron-like ride in which the riders are the test tubes that need to be spun around. This could work with a ride like Orleans Orbit, with test-tube-style passenger cars, but that ride makes me ill (the only ride to ever make me feel queasy).
Ah-choo!
You know those bungee rocket rides they show people freaking out in on America's Funniest Home Videos? This ride simulates the speed of the human sneeze. Your capsule, which could be decked out to look alternately like pollen or cat dander or something, rockets you and a friend at roughly Mach 3 (the speed, not the razor) into the air before you land safely at the launch pad.
Nutrition Express
Not as much of a ride as a park transportation system, the Nutrition Express is carrying nutrients (and passengers) to different parts of the body. Each station would have an appropriate name, like "The Bloodstream," "The Heart" or something not lame.
Down the Hatch
A freefall ride where you and a few friends are food or drink going down the esophagus. The main structure of the ride represents a magnified section of someone's throat. Maybe they could put a facade on it that would look like a person. They could call him Perry Stalsis or something.
Borborygmus
A dark ride in which passengers are inside the stomach, twisting, turning and churning. Coincidentally, this ride is most likely to make you sick to your stomach. But that's OK, because it's got a really cool name.
Impulse
A really fast roller coaster in which riders are part of the central nervous system. It could be advertised as "Impulse: A ride with real action potential." This could be one of the fastest coasters in the area and would likely be the biggest draw in the park.
The Log Ride
I'm not even touching this one.
You get the idea. I think with a good assortment of rides, this isn't that far-fetched of an idea. The vaguely educational aspect would work well with school field trips. And can you imagine the kinds of mascots you could have running around the park?
Get your picture taken with Colon Farrell or Urethra Franklin!
If any theme park desginer types want to use this idea, all I ask for is decent compensation and lifetime passes for my family.
Oh, and a Log Ride hat would be cool, too.
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
'A Dracula on Drugs!'
It's time for Bad Movies A to Z again. Now we're up to B. At this breakneck pace, I should be done by the time my son finishes college.
My brain went into shock the first time I read about today's movie. I've seen lots of bad and obscure movies, and I thought I'd seen just about everything within my favorite genres.
Shows you how much I know.
Today's movie in a nutshell: It's really hard to sum this movie up in one pithy comment. The folks at Something Weird Video (God bless their little hearts for making stuff like this available on DVD) bill this flick as "The world's only turkey-monster/anti-drug/
pro-Jesus/gore film!"
The cover box for the VHS version, which I tracked down on eBay a few years ago, had the less accurate "A Dracula on Drugs!"
With this kind of billing, how could "Blood Freak" do anything but dazzle the viewer?
You'd better get comfortable. And I should point out that this movie is not for kids. With a name like "Blood Freak," you'd think that this is a given, but now you can't say I didn't warn you.
The story: When I first saw this, it was an old VHS edition. The colors were washed out, and it was really hard to see or hear much of anything. The DVD edition is quite an improvement, but there's only so much you can do with an almost 35-year-old movie that, quite frankly, wasn't at the top of any film preservation society's lists.
Herschell (Steve Hawkes, he of the thick, Michael Landonish locks) is a buffed out-of-work Vietnam vet who meets Angel, a pretty young woman whose car breaks down. He stops to look at her car, and just his mere presence seems to heal the ailing auto.
The two drive off together, during what, judging from the camera work, is a minor earthquake.
Note to aspiring filmmakers: If you can't afford a tripod and crafting one is out of the question, you might want to avoid shooting in the back of a pickup on the freeway.
Herschell and Angel arrive at Angel's place, which I guess she shares with her bad-seed sister, Ann. Angel is a polite, church-going woman. Ann, not so much. In Angel's absence, Ann has thrown what looks like a combination drug/Tupperware party. I'm pretty sure that's against Tupperware policy.
It's hard to figure out just what's going on. There's a group of people around the table who appear to be snorting Chapstick. Off in another part of the room, there's Guy the Drug Dealer, who is hanging out with who I assume is his girlfriend. On the couch is the nice guy who runs a poultry ranch.
In what passes for conversation in this movie, Herschell rebuffs the advances of Guy's girlfriend. Here's a sample:
Oh, snap!
This decision will come to haunt Herschell later.
Meanwhile, Angel is bringing the whole party down for Ann. Ann's friends, Bob (who looks like Stifler with a Hulk Hogan 'stache) and Doris (who doesn't), ask Ann about the Bible. Doris sounds interested. And so does Bob.
While Herschell and Angel rap about the Bible, Ann is trying to put the moves on him. She is a classy lady. When Herschell chooses to continue Bible study with Angel, Ann is hurt and heads to Guy to get some "stuff." Guy suggests slipping Angel something, but Ann refuses. She has principles. Or principle. So they decide to give it to Herschell instead.
Punctuating the movie are bits of commentary from our narrator (co-director Brad Grinter), who looks like a drunken combination of Mr. Brady and Vincent Price. Since we can't rely on the actual movie to provide the exposition, we have this guy, who sits at a desk in front of some wood paneling.
We're introduced to him here, and he says two words before lighting up his smoke. His pauses are supposed to come off as dramatic, I suppose, but they look an awful like he lost his place in the script.
Herschell and Ann hang out with Poultry Ranch Guy. Sorry for the lack of specifics, but I didn't catch many of the characters' names. I don't think they were throwing them, either. He could be Angel and Ann's dad for all I know. Or their mom.
Herschell mentions that he needs a job.
As bad as that reads, it's worse when it sounds as if it's being read off a cue card.
Man, I could use a Tylenol right about now.
Angel says Herschell can crash with her until he finds his own place. The next day, while he's working on the pool, Ann comes out in her bikini.
She produces a funny-looking cigarette from a bandage container and lights up. She offers it to Herschell, who just says no. Then she stumbles upon his weakness.
Just like Marty McFly, Herschell can't stand being accused of being a chicken. Sadly, Ann uses the word "coward" instead of "chicken," which would've been more appropriate. Mr. "I'm not a coward" buckles like a belt and samples the devil weed. They erupt into a fit of unconvincing giggling.
Herschell now has a monkey on his manly back. He also ends up in bed with Ann. And just as the romantic guitar music begins to swell, we're interrupted by the narrator, still smoking a cig.
"Amen!" He talks about temptation and falling into predictable paths and sums his mini-sermon up with a hearty "Right on."
It's the next day, and since Ann didn't set the alarm clock, Herschell's almost late for his first day of work.
Cut to the poultry ranch. We get some establishing shots of Herschell (in shades borrowed from Elvis) talking to the turkeys, which is good in case we weren't paying attention 10 seconds ago.
Herschell is introduced to two guys in white coats. He can get some extra scratch by helping with some "experiments."
Lenny and Gene, the scientists at the poultry ranch -- who look about as much like scientists as I do a fitness model -- are working on some kind of project that involves giving drugs to turkeys. I don't know if they're spiking their feed or giving them little turkey joints or what, but there's some kind of experimentation afoot.
Herschell's new gig is to sample some of the meat from the doctored turkeys to make sure that it's safe for people to eat, a job that's roughly equivalent to Daffy Duck testing artillery shells by hitting them with a mallet.
Even better, they offer him some drugs in addition to the money as "an extra added bonus." He is to commence chowdown the next morning. Till then, he chases around turkeys.
Alas, they could only secure about 5 seconds of turkey gobbling sound, so they looped it to stretch it out, which is annoying in the same way that finding the pattern in your "Soothing Rainfall" bedside sound maker is. All you hear is the edit seam.
But on the plus side, looped turkey noise doesn't begin to sound more and more like bacon frying the longer you hear it.
After work, Herschell acts like he's passing a kidney stone the size of a Buick. Ann calls Guy the Drug Dealer, who shows up with more "stuff." Our newly junkied hero goes in for some two-fisted smoking, the likes of which unseen since "Reefer Madness." He realizes he's hooked and works out a deal with Guy by threatening to "break every bone in (his) miserable body" and throwing him to the floor.
Guy hears the voice of God (or more likely, the director) say "Get up slowly," right before the scene cuts. That's a nice touch.
The next morning, it's breakfast time. Gene (or Lenny, I don't know which one is which) gives him the bird. Turkey, anyway. Since Herschell is flying high, this is actually perfect for him because he's got a wicked case of the munchies.
Faster than you can say "4:20," he inhales the platter of turkey, shoveling it in with gusto, even though there was no stuffing or cranberry sauce. But he's obviously not picky, as he's eating turkey outside near a turkey pen. Ick.
The turkey must not agree with him. He stumbles away and falls over. A quick fadeout and then he's dreaming that he's Joe Cocker in concert, judging from the convulsions he's having.
Gene (or Lenny) sees the prone chucklehead and looks like he's going to help. Another fadeout.
I guess Gene (or Lenny) changed his mind, because they're both getting chewed out by Poultry Ranch Guy.
An abrupt cut and Ann is telling Bob that Herschell was gone all night.
Back at the ranch, Gene and Lenny are planning to leave town to avoid the fuzz. We also find that Gene is the big one and Lenny is the bespectacled one with the goatee.
Herschell is still convulsing. We see him from the legs down as he stumbles to his feet. Then I can't tell what is going on because it's dark. Wait a sec.
Oh, it's Ann's bedroom. She hears a noise and wakes up to see --
THE GIANT PAPIER-MACHE TURKEY HEAD OF DOOM!!!!!
Yes, Herschell's head is now a big turkey head. He can't speak, so he hands Ann a note asking for help. She looks at him. At first she's concerned. Will the effect wear off? Ever?
But her concern lasts about as long as her virginity probably did.
He gobbles in protest, and she apologizes. Then it's more concerned rambling.
I thought he was going to kill her at this point. That's usually what people in movies say before they get it. Oh my, how wrong I was.
That sound you hear is this movie hitting the very bottom of the barrel.
How can we go on from inferred hot turkey love? After Ann calls Angel for help, it's time for the narrator again.
This time, it's about how when things have turned bad for people, then they turn to God. I don't know if that was deliberate planning to put it right after this part of the movie, but it's a strange coincidence, because I was praying that things wouldn't get any worse.
This mini-sermon is dubbed over Herschell's confrontation with Ann and Angel. The one part that might've had some kind of drama, naturally.
Bob and his friend Jim come over and find out that Herschell is there. Ann tells them that he's changed, but they don't believe her until he walks out.
We don't find out what their reactions are because the scene shifts to the turkey who walks like a man. He heads to Guy's place and makes checks out Guy and his girlfriend. Every time something scary happens, the same orchestral sting is used.
Every time. That's the only way I stay awake to find out whats going on.
So while Herschell is making snacks of other druggies, Bob and Jim are aiming to take him down. Ann is distraught that Herschell will never be the same again. She reluctantly agrees that he must be stopped.
When Herschell offs some random guy, the guy's pal takes revenge and I think stabs him in one of his beady turkey eyes.
Guy is now with Ann and invites who I think is his supplier, to whom he owes money. He comes up $75 short, so he offers him Ann. Both guy and his supplier are extremely skeevy, and when he attacks Ann, Herschell's turkey-sense goes off. Said supplier beats feet when he sees our turkey-headed hero.
But scaring him away is not enough. He chases him into a workshop where there is a giant saw that is the focus of every interior shot. I wonder what's coming next...
Yup. Lays him out on the saw and takes off a leg. This is a pretty decent effect, mainly because the guy playing the supplier appears to be missing part of his leg in real life.
Of course, this decent effect comes an hour and seven minutes into the movie, so it's really a small achievement.
Herschell collapses in a field and clasps his hands together as if praying. Looming in from the side are Bob and Jim, who dispatch Herschell with one swoop of a machete. People are seen eating a bunch of turkey from a platter that has Herschell's turkey head on it.
The end, right?
Sigh. Spoilers ahead. If you don't want to know the end, don't read any further.
Still here, huh? OK.
Herschell wakes up in the field that he collapsed in just after eating the doctored turkey. Poultry Ranch Guy finds him and asks if he's OK. Apparently, when Herschell was in the service, he was burned badly and got hooked on pain meds.
Wow. Poultry Ranch Guy's name is Tom Nolan. Way to introduce the characters, eh?
Tom contacts Ann, who works at a drug center. She calls Ann to tell her that they found Herschell. Ann cops to giving him bad drugs she got from Guy.
Angel picks up Herschell and apologizes on Ann's behalf. She encourages Herschell to pray for faith to get through his addiction.
Aw, jeez. The narrator again.
After he talks about the perils of ingesting chemicals, he sums up thusly:
Herschell and Ann reunite on a pier. They are happy together. And now, 80 minutes after we started, it's finally over. No end credits except "The End."
Afterthoughts: Where do you start? I looked at the liner notes and found out that Steve Hawkes, our hero, had been badly burned while making a Spanish Tarzan film. As you can imagine, his medical bills left him without much money. Co-director Brad Grinter, who'd directed "Flesh Feast," Veronica Lake's filmic swan song, worked with Hawkes on this film.
When funding ran out, the pair had to cobble together the movie on their own, and this is the result.
Hawkes later opened a private animal sanctuary. It was in the news a year or so ago when one of his tigers escaped and was killed.
So really, when you find out what was going on behind the scenes, you are a little impressed that it got made. Not that it's a cinematic triumph, mind you. As much as everyone caps on Ed Wood and his films, they at least had heart. You could tell Ed loved movies.
This film doesn't have heart so much as a sense of desperation. It fails on almost every level of competent filmmaking, but it got done and somebody saw it. That's got to count for something. And though its brief running time seems a lot longer, it really is fascinating to watch.
My description, overlong as it is, is no substitute for actually seeing it. You really have to see it to believe that this exists.
So that's two down in Bad Movies A to Z. I am relatively confident that the next one won't be as much of a, uh, turkey, as this one was.
Sorry.
My brain went into shock the first time I read about today's movie. I've seen lots of bad and obscure movies, and I thought I'd seen just about everything within my favorite genres.
Shows you how much I know.
Today's movie in a nutshell: It's really hard to sum this movie up in one pithy comment. The folks at Something Weird Video (God bless their little hearts for making stuff like this available on DVD) bill this flick as "The world's only turkey-monster/anti-drug/
pro-Jesus/gore film!"
The cover box for the VHS version, which I tracked down on eBay a few years ago, had the less accurate "A Dracula on Drugs!"
With this kind of billing, how could "Blood Freak" do anything but dazzle the viewer?
You'd better get comfortable. And I should point out that this movie is not for kids. With a name like "Blood Freak," you'd think that this is a given, but now you can't say I didn't warn you.
The story: When I first saw this, it was an old VHS edition. The colors were washed out, and it was really hard to see or hear much of anything. The DVD edition is quite an improvement, but there's only so much you can do with an almost 35-year-old movie that, quite frankly, wasn't at the top of any film preservation society's lists.
"The sun shone bright in the blue Florida sky, and Herschell, as was his wont, cruised the highways on his bike. After the horrors he'd experienced in the war, sometimes he just needed to get out in the fresh air.
That's when he met Angel."
-- an excerpt from the nonexistant novelization of "Blood Freak," written about two minutes ago
Herschell (Steve Hawkes, he of the thick, Michael Landonish locks) is a buffed out-of-work Vietnam vet who meets Angel, a pretty young woman whose car breaks down. He stops to look at her car, and just his mere presence seems to heal the ailing auto.The two drive off together, during what, judging from the camera work, is a minor earthquake.
Note to aspiring filmmakers: If you can't afford a tripod and crafting one is out of the question, you might want to avoid shooting in the back of a pickup on the freeway.
Herschell and Angel arrive at Angel's place, which I guess she shares with her bad-seed sister, Ann. Angel is a polite, church-going woman. Ann, not so much. In Angel's absence, Ann has thrown what looks like a combination drug/Tupperware party. I'm pretty sure that's against Tupperware policy.
It's hard to figure out just what's going on. There's a group of people around the table who appear to be snorting Chapstick. Off in another part of the room, there's Guy the Drug Dealer, who is hanging out with who I assume is his girlfriend. On the couch is the nice guy who runs a poultry ranch.
In what passes for conversation in this movie, Herschell rebuffs the advances of Guy's girlfriend. Here's a sample:
"You shouldn't be acting this way with me. Especially when you are with someone else."
"You must be putting me on. Guy doesn't mind if I like someone else. He wouldn't even mind if I went to bed with you."
"I just don't go for a girl that acts like a tramp. Even if she's very beautiful."
Oh, snap!
This decision will come to haunt Herschell later.
Meanwhile, Angel is bringing the whole party down for Ann. Ann's friends, Bob (who looks like Stifler with a Hulk Hogan 'stache) and Doris (who doesn't), ask Ann about the Bible. Doris sounds interested. And so does Bob.
"Anything she can dig, I can dig."
While Herschell and Angel rap about the Bible, Ann is trying to put the moves on him. She is a classy lady. When Herschell chooses to continue Bible study with Angel, Ann is hurt and heads to Guy to get some "stuff." Guy suggests slipping Angel something, but Ann refuses. She has principles. Or principle. So they decide to give it to Herschell instead.
Punctuating the movie are bits of commentary from our narrator (co-director Brad Grinter), who looks like a drunken combination of Mr. Brady and Vincent Price. Since we can't rely on the actual movie to provide the exposition, we have this guy, who sits at a desk in front of some wood paneling.We're introduced to him here, and he says two words before lighting up his smoke. His pauses are supposed to come off as dramatic, I suppose, but they look an awful like he lost his place in the script.
Herschell and Ann hang out with Poultry Ranch Guy. Sorry for the lack of specifics, but I didn't catch many of the characters' names. I don't think they were throwing them, either. He could be Angel and Ann's dad for all I know. Or their mom.
Herschell mentions that he needs a job.
"That's easy. I could use a husky man like you out at my poultry ranch, if you can wait until next week."
"What would I be doing?"
"Just general work until we find where you fit in with the operation."
As bad as that reads, it's worse when it sounds as if it's being read off a cue card.
Man, I could use a Tylenol right about now.
Angel says Herschell can crash with her until he finds his own place. The next day, while he's working on the pool, Ann comes out in her bikini.
She produces a funny-looking cigarette from a bandage container and lights up. She offers it to Herschell, who just says no. Then she stumbles upon his weakness.
Just like Marty McFly, Herschell can't stand being accused of being a chicken. Sadly, Ann uses the word "coward" instead of "chicken," which would've been more appropriate. Mr. "I'm not a coward" buckles like a belt and samples the devil weed. They erupt into a fit of unconvincing giggling.
Herschell now has a monkey on his manly back. He also ends up in bed with Ann. And just as the romantic guitar music begins to swell, we're interrupted by the narrator, still smoking a cig.
"Amen!" He talks about temptation and falling into predictable paths and sums his mini-sermon up with a hearty "Right on."
It's the next day, and since Ann didn't set the alarm clock, Herschell's almost late for his first day of work.
Cut to the poultry ranch. We get some establishing shots of Herschell (in shades borrowed from Elvis) talking to the turkeys, which is good in case we weren't paying attention 10 seconds ago.
Herschell is introduced to two guys in white coats. He can get some extra scratch by helping with some "experiments."
Lenny and Gene, the scientists at the poultry ranch -- who look about as much like scientists as I do a fitness model -- are working on some kind of project that involves giving drugs to turkeys. I don't know if they're spiking their feed or giving them little turkey joints or what, but there's some kind of experimentation afoot.
Herschell's new gig is to sample some of the meat from the doctored turkeys to make sure that it's safe for people to eat, a job that's roughly equivalent to Daffy Duck testing artillery shells by hitting them with a mallet.
Even better, they offer him some drugs in addition to the money as "an extra added bonus." He is to commence chowdown the next morning. Till then, he chases around turkeys.
Alas, they could only secure about 5 seconds of turkey gobbling sound, so they looped it to stretch it out, which is annoying in the same way that finding the pattern in your "Soothing Rainfall" bedside sound maker is. All you hear is the edit seam.
But on the plus side, looped turkey noise doesn't begin to sound more and more like bacon frying the longer you hear it.
After work, Herschell acts like he's passing a kidney stone the size of a Buick. Ann calls Guy the Drug Dealer, who shows up with more "stuff." Our newly junkied hero goes in for some two-fisted smoking, the likes of which unseen since "Reefer Madness." He realizes he's hooked and works out a deal with Guy by threatening to "break every bone in (his) miserable body" and throwing him to the floor.
Guy hears the voice of God (or more likely, the director) say "Get up slowly," right before the scene cuts. That's a nice touch.
The next morning, it's breakfast time. Gene (or Lenny, I don't know which one is which) gives him the bird. Turkey, anyway. Since Herschell is flying high, this is actually perfect for him because he's got a wicked case of the munchies.
Faster than you can say "4:20," he inhales the platter of turkey, shoveling it in with gusto, even though there was no stuffing or cranberry sauce. But he's obviously not picky, as he's eating turkey outside near a turkey pen. Ick.
The turkey must not agree with him. He stumbles away and falls over. A quick fadeout and then he's dreaming that he's Joe Cocker in concert, judging from the convulsions he's having.
Gene (or Lenny) sees the prone chucklehead and looks like he's going to help. Another fadeout.
I guess Gene (or Lenny) changed his mind, because they're both getting chewed out by Poultry Ranch Guy.
"So why did you take him out and dump him? Don't we have enough trouble in these experiments without taking the chance on a murder charge? All we did was to give this guy some turkey."
An abrupt cut and Ann is telling Bob that Herschell was gone all night.
Back at the ranch, Gene and Lenny are planning to leave town to avoid the fuzz. We also find that Gene is the big one and Lenny is the bespectacled one with the goatee.
Herschell is still convulsing. We see him from the legs down as he stumbles to his feet. Then I can't tell what is going on because it's dark. Wait a sec.
Oh, it's Ann's bedroom. She hears a noise and wakes up to see --
Yes, Herschell's head is now a big turkey head. He can't speak, so he hands Ann a note asking for help. She looks at him. At first she's concerned. Will the effect wear off? Ever?
But her concern lasts about as long as her virginity probably did.
"Boy, Herschell, you sure are ugly."
He gobbles in protest, and she apologizes. Then it's more concerned rambling.
"What would the children think of their father looking like...that. My God, what would the children look like? What would they think? Would they look like their father? Herschell, what are you doing?"
I thought he was going to kill her at this point. That's usually what people in movies say before they get it. Oh my, how wrong I was.
"Oh, Herschell..."
That sound you hear is this movie hitting the very bottom of the barrel.
How can we go on from inferred hot turkey love? After Ann calls Angel for help, it's time for the narrator again.
This time, it's about how when things have turned bad for people, then they turn to God. I don't know if that was deliberate planning to put it right after this part of the movie, but it's a strange coincidence, because I was praying that things wouldn't get any worse.
This mini-sermon is dubbed over Herschell's confrontation with Ann and Angel. The one part that might've had some kind of drama, naturally.
Bob and his friend Jim come over and find out that Herschell is there. Ann tells them that he's changed, but they don't believe her until he walks out.
We don't find out what their reactions are because the scene shifts to the turkey who walks like a man. He heads to Guy's place and makes checks out Guy and his girlfriend. Every time something scary happens, the same orchestral sting is used.
Every time. That's the only way I stay awake to find out whats going on.
So while Herschell is making snacks of other druggies, Bob and Jim are aiming to take him down. Ann is distraught that Herschell will never be the same again. She reluctantly agrees that he must be stopped.
When Herschell offs some random guy, the guy's pal takes revenge and I think stabs him in one of his beady turkey eyes.
Guy is now with Ann and invites who I think is his supplier, to whom he owes money. He comes up $75 short, so he offers him Ann. Both guy and his supplier are extremely skeevy, and when he attacks Ann, Herschell's turkey-sense goes off. Said supplier beats feet when he sees our turkey-headed hero.
But scaring him away is not enough. He chases him into a workshop where there is a giant saw that is the focus of every interior shot. I wonder what's coming next...
Yup. Lays him out on the saw and takes off a leg. This is a pretty decent effect, mainly because the guy playing the supplier appears to be missing part of his leg in real life.
Of course, this decent effect comes an hour and seven minutes into the movie, so it's really a small achievement.
Herschell collapses in a field and clasps his hands together as if praying. Looming in from the side are Bob and Jim, who dispatch Herschell with one swoop of a machete. People are seen eating a bunch of turkey from a platter that has Herschell's turkey head on it.
The end, right?
Sigh. Spoilers ahead. If you don't want to know the end, don't read any further.
Still here, huh? OK.
Herschell wakes up in the field that he collapsed in just after eating the doctored turkey. Poultry Ranch Guy finds him and asks if he's OK. Apparently, when Herschell was in the service, he was burned badly and got hooked on pain meds.
Wow. Poultry Ranch Guy's name is Tom Nolan. Way to introduce the characters, eh?
Tom contacts Ann, who works at a drug center. She calls Ann to tell her that they found Herschell. Ann cops to giving him bad drugs she got from Guy.
Angel picks up Herschell and apologizes on Ann's behalf. She encourages Herschell to pray for faith to get through his addiction.
Aw, jeez. The narrator again.
After he talks about the perils of ingesting chemicals, he sums up thusly:
"So, let's give a little thought to making our own story -- cough-cough-- have a happy ending. Cough-cough-hack-hack-cough-cough."
Herschell and Ann reunite on a pier. They are happy together. And now, 80 minutes after we started, it's finally over. No end credits except "The End."
Afterthoughts: Where do you start? I looked at the liner notes and found out that Steve Hawkes, our hero, had been badly burned while making a Spanish Tarzan film. As you can imagine, his medical bills left him without much money. Co-director Brad Grinter, who'd directed "Flesh Feast," Veronica Lake's filmic swan song, worked with Hawkes on this film.
When funding ran out, the pair had to cobble together the movie on their own, and this is the result.
Hawkes later opened a private animal sanctuary. It was in the news a year or so ago when one of his tigers escaped and was killed.
So really, when you find out what was going on behind the scenes, you are a little impressed that it got made. Not that it's a cinematic triumph, mind you. As much as everyone caps on Ed Wood and his films, they at least had heart. You could tell Ed loved movies.
This film doesn't have heart so much as a sense of desperation. It fails on almost every level of competent filmmaking, but it got done and somebody saw it. That's got to count for something. And though its brief running time seems a lot longer, it really is fascinating to watch.
My description, overlong as it is, is no substitute for actually seeing it. You really have to see it to believe that this exists.
So that's two down in Bad Movies A to Z. I am relatively confident that the next one won't be as much of a, uh, turkey, as this one was.
Sorry.
Thursday, September 08, 2005
Let TV Guide help you decide
With the knowledge that the TV Guide I grew up with will be no more come next month, I thought it might be kind of fitting to pick up the last Fall Preview issue.
Alas, my trip to the grocery store was fruitless -- aside from a box of Waffle Crisp, the latest Readymade magazine and some cumin (which should've been ground, not seed, I later discovered).
When I bought TV Guide every week, it hit the racks every Tuesday. But here it was Wednesday, and only empty racks. I mentioned this to my brother and he said that they come out later now.
Hopefully I'll remember to get one before the next one comes out.
I have many fond memories of the mystery and wonder that each new fall season brought. Keep in mind that you didn't have full-blown summer seasons back then. I don't remember that happening until Beverly Hills, 90210.
You knew that it was coming, because school had just started and you were getting used to everyone's new haircuts and finding new ways to make yourself look stupid with school supplies.
At the end of most daytime program summaries was a note to the effect of "Last show in series. Next week, The Superfriends will air in this time slot." That's how you knew that next week would be the week.
After an eternal wait, the mighty Fall Preview issue, with its extra color pages, hit the stands. And I had to study it to make sure I knew of all the lineup changes as well as promising new shows.
"Dude, check it out! Did you read about Manimal? That's going to be rad!"
OK, I probably didn't say "rad," but it sounds much better than "dudical," which is something I distinctly remember saying back then.
Each new show had a page devoted to it, with requisite cheesy cast photo and brief synopsis. Occasionally, there would be a show that didn't have information because no episodes were available for review.
Even at age 8, I knew that was bad news.
A book I got from the library the other day, "What Were They Thinking?: The 100 Dumbest Events in Television History," has an entry on NBC's 1983 fall lineup. That's number 55: "NBC pitches a no-hitter."
The shows: Manimal, Mr. Smith, Boone, The Bay City Blues, For Love and Honor, We Got It Made, The Rousters, The Yellow Rose and Jennifer Slept Here.
Out of those nine, I remember three: the aforementioned Manimal, We Got It Made and Jennifer Slept Here. Manimal lasted two months, Made went for six, and Jennifer appears to have made a whole season.
I remember these as being pretty lame, so what does that say about the others?
The book, by the way, is tres cool, and you should pick it up.
I'm curious to see what the new TV Guide will be like -- I have a bad feeling it's going to look a lot like US Weekly, People, etc.
I noticed something at the drugstore the other day, too. It struck me a little odd. It was a protective plastic cover to keep your TV Guide nice and safe. I didn't scrutinize it, but it appeared to be a TV Guide-licensed product, with the logo and everything.
So did they have a bunch of these laying around a warehouse or are they hoping people aren't paying attention?
Alas, my trip to the grocery store was fruitless -- aside from a box of Waffle Crisp, the latest Readymade magazine and some cumin (which should've been ground, not seed, I later discovered).
When I bought TV Guide every week, it hit the racks every Tuesday. But here it was Wednesday, and only empty racks. I mentioned this to my brother and he said that they come out later now.
Hopefully I'll remember to get one before the next one comes out.
I have many fond memories of the mystery and wonder that each new fall season brought. Keep in mind that you didn't have full-blown summer seasons back then. I don't remember that happening until Beverly Hills, 90210.
You knew that it was coming, because school had just started and you were getting used to everyone's new haircuts and finding new ways to make yourself look stupid with school supplies.
At the end of most daytime program summaries was a note to the effect of "Last show in series. Next week, The Superfriends will air in this time slot." That's how you knew that next week would be the week.
After an eternal wait, the mighty Fall Preview issue, with its extra color pages, hit the stands. And I had to study it to make sure I knew of all the lineup changes as well as promising new shows.
"Dude, check it out! Did you read about Manimal? That's going to be rad!"
OK, I probably didn't say "rad," but it sounds much better than "dudical," which is something I distinctly remember saying back then.Each new show had a page devoted to it, with requisite cheesy cast photo and brief synopsis. Occasionally, there would be a show that didn't have information because no episodes were available for review.
Even at age 8, I knew that was bad news.
A book I got from the library the other day, "What Were They Thinking?: The 100 Dumbest Events in Television History," has an entry on NBC's 1983 fall lineup. That's number 55: "NBC pitches a no-hitter."
The shows: Manimal, Mr. Smith, Boone, The Bay City Blues, For Love and Honor, We Got It Made, The Rousters, The Yellow Rose and Jennifer Slept Here.
Out of those nine, I remember three: the aforementioned Manimal, We Got It Made and Jennifer Slept Here. Manimal lasted two months, Made went for six, and Jennifer appears to have made a whole season.
I remember these as being pretty lame, so what does that say about the others?
The book, by the way, is tres cool, and you should pick it up.
I'm curious to see what the new TV Guide will be like -- I have a bad feeling it's going to look a lot like US Weekly, People, etc.
I noticed something at the drugstore the other day, too. It struck me a little odd. It was a protective plastic cover to keep your TV Guide nice and safe. I didn't scrutinize it, but it appeared to be a TV Guide-licensed product, with the logo and everything.
So did they have a bunch of these laying around a warehouse or are they hoping people aren't paying attention?
Saturday, September 03, 2005
Lend a hand
I've added a link to some Katrina-related charities that folks can make donations to in the links on the right.
With all of the misery going on down there, cracking wise about pop culture seemed a little lame. But updates will resume shortly.
In the meantime, here's where you can find tons of charities that could use your help.
With all of the misery going on down there, cracking wise about pop culture seemed a little lame. But updates will resume shortly.
In the meantime, here's where you can find tons of charities that could use your help.
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
Wow.
I just read that there are plans for a movie version of Battle of the Network Stars.
The movie's plot, the article says, will "revolve around a disgraced network exec who must claw his way back to respectability by winning the contest."
I'm excited about this movie for one reason: to promote it, it's a good chance that a DVD release of the old BotNS shows could hit the shelves.
I hope. I don't know if there'd be a lot of rights clearance issues to solve before putting it out on disc, but if they do, I'd be willing to pick it up.
I haven't watched The Battle of the Network Reality Stars yet, but I think I Tivo'd one of them.
I saw a handful of the original shows on Trio a year or two ago, and it surprised me exactly how much I'd remembered from watching them as a kid.
One of the most vivid memories I had of the show was seeing Dallas' Charlene Tilton in the dunking booth. I was only 4 or 5 when I saw it, so I thought I'd pretty much hallucinated the image, but after seeing the show again, I found that I was right.
And now I've got it on video. W00t!
And speaking of gratuitous, in another episode, there's a profile on Lynda Carter that shows her keeping in shape for her role on Wonder Woman by JUMPING ON A TRAMPOLINE.
Also, now in my video collection.
These kinds of things are undoubtedly what lead to Saturday Night Live's parody commercial for The Network Battle of the T's and A's.
The thing I think is really interesting is not so much seeing stars before they were really famous, although that's cool (David Letterman on Battle?). I like seeing the "Who is that?" actors and actresses. I have a good memory for TV shows of the 70s and 80s, but even I had no idea who some of these people were.
If this movie actually gets made, I have no idea. But if it does, can a big-screen version of Circus of the Stars be far behind?
(via TV Tattle)
This just occurred to me: There has been a Richard Hatch on both the original Stars and the Reality Stars. One from Battlestar Galactica (although he might've been on The Streets of San Francisco at the time) and one from Survivor. Eerie, huh?
You're older than you've ever been and now you're even older...
Started up the old laptop today and saw that the date was Jan. 1, 1601. It's old, but I had no idea...
Sunday, August 28, 2005
Hail to the King, baby
I saw this morning at Dial B for Blog that Jack "The King" Kirby, legendary comic creator, was born on this day in 1917. His contributions to the world of comic books are immense.
One of the things that always blew me away about him was the machinery you'd see on the pages. Impossible-looking things that looked alien and futuristic.
He also designed Herbie the Robot for the 1978 Fantastic Four cartoon, which is one of the few nice things I can say about Herbie.
Out of all the things he did, the first comic I bought with my own money that had Jack Kirby artwork was Super Powers #4 (of a 5-part mini-series that tied in with the then-current line of Kenner action figures). And even then it was just the cover.
Wotta revolting development.
One of the things that always blew me away about him was the machinery you'd see on the pages. Impossible-looking things that looked alien and futuristic.
He also designed Herbie the Robot for the 1978 Fantastic Four cartoon, which is one of the few nice things I can say about Herbie.
Out of all the things he did, the first comic I bought with my own money that had Jack Kirby artwork was Super Powers #4 (of a 5-part mini-series that tied in with the then-current line of Kenner action figures). And even then it was just the cover.
Wotta revolting development.
Saturday, August 27, 2005
The e-mail of the species
Some of the people who have e-mailed me -- or more specifically, who have ended up in my spam folder:
Lucy Hand -- the subject line was "Rolex Pimp," which, as Dave Barry might say, would make a great name for a rock band.
Clobber B. Hairless
Carouses G. Reinvented
Deluged U. Dug
Replacement Window Professionals
Complimentary Cruise -- Tom's cousin, maybe?
Radoslav Mcgrath -- Hey, I think he's the co-host of Extra or something
Bread Nielsen
Bamboo Flooring Resources
Tattooed B. Pitied
Reroute F. Hankers
and my personal favorite, Diaper Blowout, which to someone in marketing, may indicate a big sale on diapers. But to a parent, it usually means "No more quiche for the kid."
And on a semi-related note, was that a flatulence joke I saw in For Better or For Worse this morning?
Lucy Hand -- the subject line was "Rolex Pimp," which, as Dave Barry might say, would make a great name for a rock band.
Clobber B. Hairless
Carouses G. Reinvented
Deluged U. Dug
Replacement Window Professionals
Complimentary Cruise -- Tom's cousin, maybe?
Radoslav Mcgrath -- Hey, I think he's the co-host of Extra or something
Bread Nielsen
Bamboo Flooring Resources
Tattooed B. Pitied
Reroute F. Hankers
and my personal favorite, Diaper Blowout, which to someone in marketing, may indicate a big sale on diapers. But to a parent, it usually means "No more quiche for the kid."
And on a semi-related note, was that a flatulence joke I saw in For Better or For Worse this morning?
Thursday, August 25, 2005
Everything's Archie...
This should come as no great shock, but I always identified with Jughead more than Archie.
Not because I didn't like girls (I did).
And not because I loved to eat (I don't, particularly).
Nor did I wear the funky crown (They haven't been on sale for about 50 years).
But Jug was the oddball outsider friend. And that's me in a nutshell. Plus, if I were ever in the position of having to choose between a gorgeous-but-impossibly-high-maintenance rich brunette and a beautiful-and-incredibly thoughtful blonde, it would be a quick decision.
Yep, I'd go for Betty. It breaks tradition of my preference for brunettes (especially ones with glasses), but how can you not like Betty?
Veronica seemed so much better suited for Reggie. Reggie was a schmuck of the highest caliber, but he was always more concerned with appearances and material things.
Plus, he had a weird laugh.
Yok! Yok! Who laughs like that?
My brother and I inherited a giant stack of circa-1970s Archie books, which have sadly gone the way of Boba Fett into the Sarlaac pit. I've gone through what little Archie stuff I had, but I couldn't find evidence of the "Yok! Yok!" that my brother and I had made fun of so much.
But at a random stop I made yesterday to a library book store, I scored almost 20 different Archie books, and in one of the last ones in the stack, I found it. Proof that I wasn't hallucinating it.
Not because I didn't like girls (I did).
And not because I loved to eat (I don't, particularly).
Nor did I wear the funky crown (They haven't been on sale for about 50 years).
But Jug was the oddball outsider friend. And that's me in a nutshell. Plus, if I were ever in the position of having to choose between a gorgeous-but-impossibly-high-maintenance rich brunette and a beautiful-and-incredibly thoughtful blonde, it would be a quick decision.
Yep, I'd go for Betty. It breaks tradition of my preference for brunettes (especially ones with glasses), but how can you not like Betty?
Veronica seemed so much better suited for Reggie. Reggie was a schmuck of the highest caliber, but he was always more concerned with appearances and material things.
Plus, he had a weird laugh.
Yok! Yok! Who laughs like that?
My brother and I inherited a giant stack of circa-1970s Archie books, which have sadly gone the way of Boba Fett into the Sarlaac pit. I've gone through what little Archie stuff I had, but I couldn't find evidence of the "Yok! Yok!" that my brother and I had made fun of so much.
But at a random stop I made yesterday to a library book store, I scored almost 20 different Archie books, and in one of the last ones in the stack, I found it. Proof that I wasn't hallucinating it.
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
Only one will survive...
The battle royale.
Having been about 10 when the first Wrestlemania came out, the idea of a mass battle was firmly engrained in my little brain.
Add to that a healthy appetite for comic books, and you can imagine how much time my friends and I would spend coming up with ideas of how these battles might turn out.
The Justice League of America vs. The Avengers.
Freddy vs. Jason.
Battle of the Network Stars.
After all these years, it's still hard not to think this way. So when I was up with my son at the crack of dawn so he could watch Playhouse Disney, my tired brain came up with
The Wiggles vs. The Doodlebops!
He wakes up at 5:30. Let's not expect too much from me, OK? To be honest, as kid shows go, they're not bad. It's just after the 50,000th viewing, you get a little punchy. And before we get started, kids, let's remember that neither one of these teams really would fight. Fighting is bad.
Even if it's entertaining.
The Wiggles have the early advantage, as there are four of them compared with the three Doodlebops. If you wanted to even the playing field, I guess the Doodlebops could drag in Bus Driver Bob, but I think I'll stick with the base group.
Besides, if they get Bus Driver Bob, the Wiggles could bring in Dorothy the Dinosaur or Captain Feathersword (the friendly pirate).
The rosters
The Wiggles:
Greg, Murray, Anthony and Jeff
The Doodlebops:
Deedee, Rooney and Moe.
Now that I think of it, the 4-to-3 odds don't really come in to play because Jeff, of course, would be asleep during the whole battle.
Things get off to a rousing start when Murray, wielding his red guitar, dispatches Rooney, who folds like a cheap tent. This is a purely strategic move; Rooney is the team's inventor. By taking him out, that reduces the weapons the Doodlebops will have.
Alas, Murray forgets that Deedee Doodle, like Ben Folds, is a fan of the keytar. There's a dischordant noise and Murray is down, the impression of keytar keys on his forehead and tiny Dorothy the Dinosaurs dancing around his head.
Deedee is clearly on a roll when she puts sleeping powder in a sandwich and offers it to Anthony, who promptly falls asleep after eating it.
But Greg knows Moe's weakness and decides to exploit it. Just in Moe's line of sight is a rope. He tries to resist, but he knows that he can't.
Deedee sees it a little too late.
"Don't pull the rope!"
Moe, true to form, pulls the rope, dislodging a cinder block that bonks him on the head.
That just leaves Deedee and Greg. Only one will survive.
Deedee rushes Greg.
At the last minute, Greg grabs his magic wand from his back pocket and waves it at the top hat conspicuously placed on the floor.
Before Deedee can reach Greg, a rabbit pops out of the hat and grabs her. The rabbit pulls her back into the hat with him, her screams dwindling as she disappears.
The commotion over, Greg sits at the table and sips a cup of Rosy Tea.
It tastes good.
Like victory.
Having been about 10 when the first Wrestlemania came out, the idea of a mass battle was firmly engrained in my little brain.
Add to that a healthy appetite for comic books, and you can imagine how much time my friends and I would spend coming up with ideas of how these battles might turn out.
The Justice League of America vs. The Avengers.
Freddy vs. Jason.
Battle of the Network Stars.
After all these years, it's still hard not to think this way. So when I was up with my son at the crack of dawn so he could watch Playhouse Disney, my tired brain came up with
He wakes up at 5:30. Let's not expect too much from me, OK? To be honest, as kid shows go, they're not bad. It's just after the 50,000th viewing, you get a little punchy. And before we get started, kids, let's remember that neither one of these teams really would fight. Fighting is bad.
Even if it's entertaining.
The Wiggles have the early advantage, as there are four of them compared with the three Doodlebops. If you wanted to even the playing field, I guess the Doodlebops could drag in Bus Driver Bob, but I think I'll stick with the base group.
Besides, if they get Bus Driver Bob, the Wiggles could bring in Dorothy the Dinosaur or Captain Feathersword (the friendly pirate).
The Wiggles:
Greg, Murray, Anthony and Jeff
The Doodlebops:
Deedee, Rooney and Moe.
Now that I think of it, the 4-to-3 odds don't really come in to play because Jeff, of course, would be asleep during the whole battle.
Things get off to a rousing start when Murray, wielding his red guitar, dispatches Rooney, who folds like a cheap tent. This is a purely strategic move; Rooney is the team's inventor. By taking him out, that reduces the weapons the Doodlebops will have.
Alas, Murray forgets that Deedee Doodle, like Ben Folds, is a fan of the keytar. There's a dischordant noise and Murray is down, the impression of keytar keys on his forehead and tiny Dorothy the Dinosaurs dancing around his head.
Deedee is clearly on a roll when she puts sleeping powder in a sandwich and offers it to Anthony, who promptly falls asleep after eating it.
But Greg knows Moe's weakness and decides to exploit it. Just in Moe's line of sight is a rope. He tries to resist, but he knows that he can't.
Deedee sees it a little too late.
"Don't pull the rope!"
Moe, true to form, pulls the rope, dislodging a cinder block that bonks him on the head.
That just leaves Deedee and Greg. Only one will survive.
Deedee rushes Greg.
At the last minute, Greg grabs his magic wand from his back pocket and waves it at the top hat conspicuously placed on the floor.
Before Deedee can reach Greg, a rabbit pops out of the hat and grabs her. The rabbit pulls her back into the hat with him, her screams dwindling as she disappears.
The commotion over, Greg sits at the table and sips a cup of Rosy Tea.
It tastes good.
Like victory.
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
Go Modesto, go Modesto ...
I read in the paper this morning that the Modesto area is the "car theft capital of the United States."
There are many factors involved here, but the one that caught my eye was this one:
As soon as I read that, this line from the 1987 Dan Aykroyd-Tom Hanks comedy "Dragnet" immediately came to mind.
To be fair, the next line is:
But still.
I've lived in places where you could leave your door unlocked and not worry about it, but I've never thought to leave my keys in the car.
And if I did, having my stereo stolen from my car (parked in front of my house) because I left the window open would've cured me.
Yeah, it's a drag that you can't leave your car window open on a hot day, but is it really surprising that these things happen anymore?
Complain about the decline of society all you want (I'm likely to agree), but unless leaving your keys in your car and having it stolen is your form of protest against criminals, you might want to just hold on to those keys.
There are many factors involved here, but the one that caught my eye was this one:
"If people would stop leaving their keys in their cars, we would not be No. 1," said officer Rick Applegate, Police Department spokesman. "We'd drop off the radar. But, still, every day vehicles are being stolen (because the owners) left the car running or unattended."
As soon as I read that, this line from the 1987 Dan Aykroyd-Tom Hanks comedy "Dragnet" immediately came to mind.
Joe Friday (Aykroyd): With the exception of you and canned cling peaches, I'd find it hard to find anyone or anything that doesn't know you should never leave your car keys in the ignition.
To be fair, the next line is:
Pep Streebek (Hanks): It's called a mistake, Friday. But I guess you never make any of those, do you?
But still.
I've lived in places where you could leave your door unlocked and not worry about it, but I've never thought to leave my keys in the car.
And if I did, having my stereo stolen from my car (parked in front of my house) because I left the window open would've cured me.
Yeah, it's a drag that you can't leave your car window open on a hot day, but is it really surprising that these things happen anymore?
Complain about the decline of society all you want (I'm likely to agree), but unless leaving your keys in your car and having it stolen is your form of protest against criminals, you might want to just hold on to those keys.
Monday, August 22, 2005
Great moments in human achievement
Prepare to be jealous.
These days, people often say that kids play too many video games and they’ll never accomplish anything.
I don’t know if that’s true or not, but I do know that playing video games led me to one of my most prized accomplishments.
And no, it wasn’t attention from the opposite sex.
Gaze upon my works, ye mighty, and despair: I earned the coveted (I can never find it on eBay) Seaquest Sub Club patch.
Unlike other Sub Clubs that require you to buy sandwiches (or buy black market stamps on the Internet) before you get a payoff, the Seaquest Sub Club had only one requirement.
Attain a score of 50,000 points or more playing Seaquest on your Atari 2600 and take a picture of it. Send in the pic, and “you'll be eligible to join this prestigious organization.”
Here’s the
proof:
This is from April 1983. Stop laughing at my glasses. There weren’t many options for frames back then.
Note that not only had I scored the requisite 50,000 points, but I had reached just over 112,000. Not bad for an 8-year-old.
After weeks of waiting, I got my patch in the mail, which I dutifully had affixed to my favorite blue and gray jacket. I’d like to think that I wore the jacket to school and downplayed my achievement.
“Oh, this old thing? I got it when I was a kid.”
But I know I was probably more like: “Check it out! Sub Club! I rule!”
Eventually, I outgrew the jacket and handed it down to my cousins. And it wasn’t until a few years ago I even thought of it.
“Fifty bucks for a patch? No way, eBay!”
I mean, I’m good at justifying entirely impractical, nay, even stupid purchases. I paid five bucks for an old multicolored light you used to shine on aluminum Christmas tree even though
A. It was nowhere near Christmas
and
B. I didn’t own an aluminum Christmas tree.
But I couldn’t justify dropping 50 clams on a patch that I wouldn’t even wear in public (OK, I probably would).
As a lark, I asked my aunt if she still had the jacket I handed down to her sons. Luckily for me, she still did. That meant 50 bucks for important stuff. Like groceries. Or a Darth Vader Voice-Changing Helmet.
I also reclaimed some other cool stuff, like the Fisher-Price Movie Player and Talk-To-Me Books. Second childhood, here I come.
Anyway, here’s the jacket and patch, modeled by the ever-dashing Brody.
No, Brody, arms out. Try again.
There we go. Good job!
Now I want to get a cool Greatest American Hero T-shirt like I used to have. Talk about sweet…
These days, people often say that kids play too many video games and they’ll never accomplish anything.
I don’t know if that’s true or not, but I do know that playing video games led me to one of my most prized accomplishments.
And no, it wasn’t attention from the opposite sex.
Gaze upon my works, ye mighty, and despair: I earned the coveted (I can never find it on eBay) Seaquest Sub Club patch.
Unlike other Sub Clubs that require you to buy sandwiches (or buy black market stamps on the Internet) before you get a payoff, the Seaquest Sub Club had only one requirement.
Attain a score of 50,000 points or more playing Seaquest on your Atari 2600 and take a picture of it. Send in the pic, and “you'll be eligible to join this prestigious organization.”
Here’s the
proof:
This is from April 1983. Stop laughing at my glasses. There weren’t many options for frames back then.
Note that not only had I scored the requisite 50,000 points, but I had reached just over 112,000. Not bad for an 8-year-old.
After weeks of waiting, I got my patch in the mail, which I dutifully had affixed to my favorite blue and gray jacket. I’d like to think that I wore the jacket to school and downplayed my achievement.
“Oh, this old thing? I got it when I was a kid.”
But I know I was probably more like: “Check it out! Sub Club! I rule!”
Eventually, I outgrew the jacket and handed it down to my cousins. And it wasn’t until a few years ago I even thought of it.
“Fifty bucks for a patch? No way, eBay!”
I mean, I’m good at justifying entirely impractical, nay, even stupid purchases. I paid five bucks for an old multicolored light you used to shine on aluminum Christmas tree even though
A. It was nowhere near Christmas
and
B. I didn’t own an aluminum Christmas tree.
But I couldn’t justify dropping 50 clams on a patch that I wouldn’t even wear in public (OK, I probably would).
As a lark, I asked my aunt if she still had the jacket I handed down to her sons. Luckily for me, she still did. That meant 50 bucks for important stuff. Like groceries. Or a Darth Vader Voice-Changing Helmet.
I also reclaimed some other cool stuff, like the Fisher-Price Movie Player and Talk-To-Me Books. Second childhood, here I come.
Anyway, here’s the jacket and patch, modeled by the ever-dashing Brody.
No, Brody, arms out. Try again.
There we go. Good job!
Now I want to get a cool Greatest American Hero T-shirt like I used to have. Talk about sweet…
Friday, August 19, 2005
Norm!
Finally made it out to Santa Rosa last weekend to check out the Charles M. Schulz Museum. The last time I was out in that area, the museum was still an empty lot.
I had a double reason (triple, if you count the cool candy store we also went to that day) to want to go. Not only am I a big Schulz fan, but Michael Jantze, creator of The Norm, was the museum's cartoonist-in-residence that day.
The Norm is one of my favorite strips. If you haven't already done so, go check it out. Subscribe. It's good fun.
Despite the fact I've met Mr. Jantze a few times at comic conventions, I was still my normal case-of-the-stuttering-duhs self.
He was giving pointers to some of the younger patrons and was signing books and doing sketches. I was going to ask for one of Norm, but then I had a better idea.
In the strip, Norm has a friend who's a huge Star Wars fan -- he dressed as a Wookiee when they waited in line to see The Phantom Menace.
So, in honor of my little Wookiee, I asked for a sketch of Chris the Wookiee.
Behold!
It's really cool and more than made up for the four-hour drive that should've taken less than three. Between that and the candy store, it was a pretty good day.
Oh, and the museum was pretty cool, too. Lots of original Peanuts art, which was really neat to see. They even have some round-headed kid out front, too.
He doesn't say much, though.
I had a double reason (triple, if you count the cool candy store we also went to that day) to want to go. Not only am I a big Schulz fan, but Michael Jantze, creator of The Norm, was the museum's cartoonist-in-residence that day.
The Norm is one of my favorite strips. If you haven't already done so, go check it out. Subscribe. It's good fun.
Despite the fact I've met Mr. Jantze a few times at comic conventions, I was still my normal case-of-the-stuttering-duhs self.
He was giving pointers to some of the younger patrons and was signing books and doing sketches. I was going to ask for one of Norm, but then I had a better idea.
In the strip, Norm has a friend who's a huge Star Wars fan -- he dressed as a Wookiee when they waited in line to see The Phantom Menace.
So, in honor of my little Wookiee, I asked for a sketch of Chris the Wookiee.
Behold!
It's really cool and more than made up for the four-hour drive that should've taken less than three. Between that and the candy store, it was a pretty good day.
Oh, and the museum was pretty cool, too. Lots of original Peanuts art, which was really neat to see. They even have some round-headed kid out front, too.
He doesn't say much, though.
Goin’ down the only road I’ve ever known
According to this site, it would take 314.31 cans of Wild Cherry Pepsi to kill me from the caffeine.
That sounds like a lot of soda, but I'm a little worried. I don't drink Wild Cherry Pepsi in cans; I go for the 24 oz. bottles. I could do the math, I suppose, but I like living on the edge.
(via Metafilter)
I know I should be outraged that grown adults would stoop to such unprofessional behavior, but I couldn't help giggling when I read about this. It wasn't the first derogatory name in this story that made me snicker, but the second one.
I'm forever 11, what can I say? My brother may just have a new nickname next time I see him...
(via Boing Boing)
I've been reading "For Better or For Worse" for a long time, and the current storyline has a lot of people talking. Lately, I find myself holding off on reading the strip until I read Gael's summary.
While perusing the toy section at Target yesterday (for my son, not me...), I saw a game that I might just have to pick up: The I Love the 80s trivia game. Of all the useless knowledge stored in my brain, stuff about the 80s occupies the largest chunk.
From what I saw on the back of the box, though, some questions require you to sing. With my luck, I'd have to sing "Here I Go Again" by Whitesnake, thus putting me in a dilemma.
Torn between my desire to win and my not wanting to admit I know the words...
Meh.
Thursday, August 18, 2005
'Cause I'm Mr. Brightside ...
Swung by Target to pick up a few things. I guess it's been a while since I had to buy cold medicine for my son (he's got the sniffles), because now you can't buy some of them off the shelf (the medicine, not my son). Pseudoephedrine can be used to make meth, the sign says.
Instead, you grab the corresponding card and take it to the pharmacy counter. You also have to buy it there. At first I thought it was kind of an inconvenience, but then I realized that I didn't have to wait in the long lines up at the front of the store.
It's nice to see that meth addicts are good for something, I guess...
Instead, you grab the corresponding card and take it to the pharmacy counter. You also have to buy it there. At first I thought it was kind of an inconvenience, but then I realized that I didn't have to wait in the long lines up at the front of the store.
It's nice to see that meth addicts are good for something, I guess...
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
Don't have a cow
I read an amusing letter in the paper this morning about the ongoing controversy on cows and their effect on the environment. The writer suggested sending the cows into space.
My first thought was to wonder if they'd really be able to reach escape velocity. Cows weigh an awful lot, as does any spacecraft they'd be sent in. Chances are that the best they could achieve is maybe a low-Earth orbit.
Which I guess would make them the, uh, herd shot round the world.
I'm so ashamed...
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
The candy, man
The candy aisle at the local drug store just isn't that much fun anymore.
As I've gotten older, my appetite for candy has diminished substantially. It tastes different, if that makes any sense.
I think even candy makers are getting bored, because all they're doing is varying the shapes, sizes and flavors of established brands.
Don't get me wrong, it's kinda cool to see a giant Reese's Peanut Butter Cup or a white chocolate Kit Kat. But it's not really new.
Now that I'm more of a glutton for punishment than for candy, I've set my sights on less common candy. I developed a taste for Cadbury Snow Flake, which I found at Cost Plus.
But once I said out loud that I liked it, Cost Plus decided not to carry it anymore. I tried ordering it online -- the store I found was out.
Bah!
But there were a few other candies that are for one reason or another, not widely available in my neck of the woods.
I learned of the Valomilk cup from Steven Almond's book, "Candyfreak: A Journey Through the Chocolate Underbelly of America," which is a really cool book. Once I read the description, I just had to try one.
So I ended up ordering a bunch of candy from various online retailers, and I was happy with what I got.
Especially the Valomilk. But it gets kind of expensive -- not so much for the candy itself, but to ship it. Plus, with it being summer, a lot of places don't ship them when it's so hot.
That's why I was pleasantly surprised to find them during a recent excursion with my wife. We checked out Powell's Sweet Shoppe in Windsor because we were in the area, and we'd heard that they had a great selection of candy.
That's no exaggeration. Every candy I'd ordered in the past year or so was there for the buying: Valomilks, Flicks, Snow Flakes, you name it. Ignoring the drool that was likely collecting at the corners of my mouth, I filled a small basket.
I was like a kid in a candy store.
And even better, they also have a soda shop with a similarly electic selection. I sampled a Dr Pepper from the bottling plant in Dublin, Texas. Mmmm....
Roughly $50 later, I happily strolled down the street with a bag of sweets in my hand. Now the fun part is carefully rationing my haul so it doesn't disappear too quickly.
Should you ever find yourself near Windsor, I highly recommend stopping by the store.
Just give them a day or so to restock.
As I've gotten older, my appetite for candy has diminished substantially. It tastes different, if that makes any sense.
I think even candy makers are getting bored, because all they're doing is varying the shapes, sizes and flavors of established brands.
Don't get me wrong, it's kinda cool to see a giant Reese's Peanut Butter Cup or a white chocolate Kit Kat. But it's not really new.
Now that I'm more of a glutton for punishment than for candy, I've set my sights on less common candy. I developed a taste for Cadbury Snow Flake, which I found at Cost Plus.
But once I said out loud that I liked it, Cost Plus decided not to carry it anymore. I tried ordering it online -- the store I found was out.
Bah!
But there were a few other candies that are for one reason or another, not widely available in my neck of the woods.
I learned of the Valomilk cup from Steven Almond's book, "Candyfreak: A Journey Through the Chocolate Underbelly of America," which is a really cool book. Once I read the description, I just had to try one.
So I ended up ordering a bunch of candy from various online retailers, and I was happy with what I got.
Especially the Valomilk. But it gets kind of expensive -- not so much for the candy itself, but to ship it. Plus, with it being summer, a lot of places don't ship them when it's so hot.
That's why I was pleasantly surprised to find them during a recent excursion with my wife. We checked out Powell's Sweet Shoppe in Windsor because we were in the area, and we'd heard that they had a great selection of candy.That's no exaggeration. Every candy I'd ordered in the past year or so was there for the buying: Valomilks, Flicks, Snow Flakes, you name it. Ignoring the drool that was likely collecting at the corners of my mouth, I filled a small basket.
I was like a kid in a candy store.And even better, they also have a soda shop with a similarly electic selection. I sampled a Dr Pepper from the bottling plant in Dublin, Texas. Mmmm....
Roughly $50 later, I happily strolled down the street with a bag of sweets in my hand. Now the fun part is carefully rationing my haul so it doesn't disappear too quickly.
Should you ever find yourself near Windsor, I highly recommend stopping by the store.
Just give them a day or so to restock.
A piece of cake
If those Pillsbury or Betty Crocker folks were smart, they'd market a cake mix that, instead of being a specific flavor (chocolate, spice, rainbow chip), was generic. With small additions of your choice, you make the cake you want.
Sometimes you want to make a homemade cake, but you just don't have the time to sift the flour and all that jazz.
I'd call it Scratch.
"This cake is terrific? Is it a mix?"
"I made it from Scratch!"
Monday, August 15, 2005
Uncontrollable habit
Thinking too hard?
I read a story in this morning's paper about how this summer's crop of action movies aren't doing so well.
Says "Stealth" director Rob Cohen,
I know this sounds crazy, but could it be that people aren't coming in droves to see these movies because they, well, suck?
To be fair, I have seen very few movies this summer. One, actually -- the new Batman flick, which I thought was pretty decent.
But I've seen enough bad movies to know what I will and won't like. For starters, if you have a theoretically unique plot twist in your movie, maybe you should save it for the movie instead of blowing it in the promos.
It's gotten to the point where the entertainment I derive from movies is trying to guess which character is going to fulfill the formula requirements. Every now and then, they'll get tricky and make a different character do it, which is cool for a second before I remember that they're still making the movie by the numbers.
That's why I tend to watch the stuff I do. I already know that most of them are pretty bad, but I can honestly say that I'm more surprised by cheesy horror and sci-fi movies than with most Hollywood offerings.
I mean, when a guy wakes up to find that he has a giant papier mache turkey head, you've got to give them some kind of credit.
Says "Stealth" director Rob Cohen,
"You had Ridley Scott with 'Kingdom of Heaven,' and Michael Bay ('The Island') gave you cloning. I don't think this generation sources their heroes in this arena. Maybe they'll source their heroes as two guys who crash weddings so they can have sex with vulnerable girls. ... Action films are usually about the male hero, and if you live in a time when you don't believe in heroes, it makes it difficult ... (to) make action films as they've been traditionally defined."
I know this sounds crazy, but could it be that people aren't coming in droves to see these movies because they, well, suck?
To be fair, I have seen very few movies this summer. One, actually -- the new Batman flick, which I thought was pretty decent.
But I've seen enough bad movies to know what I will and won't like. For starters, if you have a theoretically unique plot twist in your movie, maybe you should save it for the movie instead of blowing it in the promos.
It's gotten to the point where the entertainment I derive from movies is trying to guess which character is going to fulfill the formula requirements. Every now and then, they'll get tricky and make a different character do it, which is cool for a second before I remember that they're still making the movie by the numbers.
That's why I tend to watch the stuff I do. I already know that most of them are pretty bad, but I can honestly say that I'm more surprised by cheesy horror and sci-fi movies than with most Hollywood offerings.
I mean, when a guy wakes up to find that he has a giant papier mache turkey head, you've got to give them some kind of credit.
Thursday, August 11, 2005
Growth anatomy
Today kicks off Bad Movies A to Z! Let the celebrations commence. As I said before, these aren't all bad movies. They're just not necessarily the popular movies. Think of them as that awkward kid who sat in the back of the class.
Today's movie in a nutshell: The military is testing a new kind of bomb. Our hero, while trying to save someone's life, is caught in the blast. But he doesn't die, he just changes into a monster.
No, it's not another version of The Incredible Hulk.
It's the 1957 Bert I. Gordon classic, "The Amazing Colossal Man."
I first learned of this flick via "It Came From Hollywood" and finally saw it on "Mystery Science Theater 3000" before finding it on video.
The story: Col. Glenn Manning is among those at the testing of a new plutonium bomb. Glenn Manning is played by Glenn Langan. I love it when the main character's first name is the same as the actor's.
If this movie were made today, it would feature Tony Danza.
The countdown reaches zero, but there's no blast. Since they don't know if it will go off or not, they have to just sit there. A low-flying plane is spotted, and efforts to shoo it away fail. It crashes. Col. Manning wants to try to save the plane's pilot, but that idea is shot down. Showing the respect for authority that must have gotten him all the way to colonel, he bolts from the bunker and makes a mad dash for the plane.
He gets about halfway to the plane and then ... BOOM! He instictively shields his face from the blast, which shreds his clothes and vaporizes his hair.
As a result, he blames Superman for his hair loss and becomes his greatest enemy.
Wait. I'm getting my stories confused. Sorry.
Cut to the hospital, where Manning, like this movie's grasp of science, is half-baked. The doctors are dressing him in bandages, putting what looks like stuffing fron a couch cushion under them. Don't ask me.
Glenn's doctor, Paul Linstrom, meets Glenn's fiancee, Carol. He is one of those sensitive doctors, so we know he's in good hands.
To Carol: "I wish I could give you some hope."
The doctors have done what they can, but Glenn has third-degree burns over almost his whole body. They stick him in an oxygen tent and let him hang out in his room.
The next day, a nurse comes in to check his dressings and freaks out. We're lead to believe that his skin is still horribly burnt, but when she comes back with the doctors in tow, they remove the bandages and find that Glenn's skin has regenerated. He still has no hair except for his eyebrows (because he shielded them from the blast).
Suspecting that something is up, the docs bring in the bomb designer, Mr. Kingman, who doesn't think that there's anything particularly amazing about a man surviving a plutonium blast. They look at film taken during the test.
"A man survives an explosion -- "
"A plutonium explosion."
"And then for some reason or other, his skin heals more rapidly than usual. What is the mystery, gentlemen?"
We start a little slow, but things build up a little when Carol is forbidden to see Glenn because of millitary security. She tries to see him at the hospital, but the receptionist on loan from the Department of Redundancy Department tells her that there's no visiting until 2 p.m. in the afternoon.
Undaunted, Carol tracks Glenn down to the Army Rehabilitation and Research Center, which apparently, didn't pay its electricity bill. Nearly all the hallways are dark. This works to Carol's advantage, though, as she uses her ninja training to hide in the shadows before sneaking into Glenn's room.
Having defeated all the security measures at this military installation, what does she do when she sees Glenn?
She screams, natch.
To be fair, he's like 20 feet tall (in wearing a diaper/sarong, to boot) at that point, but still -- use your head, Carol...
Doctors Linstrom and Coulter, apparently the only ones at the base, come and explain the situation to Carol. Obviously, her ninja skills mean nothing to them, as they explain it to her as if she were a moron.
"New cells are growing at an accelerated or speeded up rate."
I know not everyone has the Word A Day desk calendar, but jeez, fellas, give the lady some credit.
If his malady is not cured, then "Glenn Manning will grow until he dies."
Bum-bum-BUUUUUUUUM!
Then there's a dream sequence in which Glenn flashes back to fighting in Korea -- his buddy is killed, and Glenn avenges him by shooting the attacker in the face (!). The dream ends with the bomb going off, which marks the third time they reuse the footage of Glenn being caught in the blast.
Glenn, now awake, is for some reason unhappy being a giant freak of nature. And while the doctors are working on a cure, the logical thing for Glenn to do is, yes, you guessed, it, go on a picnic with Carol up in the hills.
He tells Carol that in college, he was voted man most likely to reach the top. And in case we missed the yuks inherent in that statement, the musical score segues into a trumpeted wah-wah-wahhhhhh.
He thinks he'll never be cured: "I just don't want to grow anymore. I DON'T want to GROW anyMORE!"
(This is the scene they use in "It Came From Hollywood" where Tommy Chong interjects, "Yeah, except maybe some hair...")
Later, Glenn refers to himself in jest as "The Amazing Colossal Man." I love it when movie-makers take the time to try to wedge in the title of the flick in the dialogue. My friend and I used to have a rule where we would clap every time it happened while we watched the movie.
Yes, we were dorks. But back to the movie.
The doctors find that Glenn's growth is taking a physical and mental toll on him. Turns out his heart is growing at half the rate the rest of his body is.
Bum-bum-BUUUUUUUUM!
But just when things are looking bad for our 50-foot-tall friend, Dr. Coulter makes a breathrough. It's a two-part process. To stop his growth they need to inject a compound into his bone marrow. And after that, a "high-frequency stimulation of the pituitary or growth-controlling gland" will shrink him back down to normal size.
I decided to kinda skip past that, because if I tried to figure it out, my brain would've hurt more than it already did.
After roughly 7 hours of rambling exposition, Glenn is on the loose on the streets of Las Vegas, and boy, am I glad I'm not on the ground to get a peek up his sarong.
One of the signs visible is for The Sands, where Danny Thomas was slated to be playing. Old Glenn, I guess, is not a "Make Room For Daddy" fan; he smashes the sign. Vandal! Savage!
Meanwhile, our heroes are nearing Boulder Dam in a helicopter. It's Drs. Linstrom and Coulter, Carol and a ginormous hypodermic needle. Good thing they had that lying around at the base, eh?
Glenn tries to swat the copter down; at this point, his mental capacity is reduced to trying to ape (sorry) King Kong. The copter lands, and they prepare to inject him. They have to get the needle through the bone into the marrow, so they're only going to have one shot (sorry again).
Bingo! They jab Glenn near his ankle, which really seems to bother him. So much so that he takes the needle out and looks to see who hurt him. He eyes the tiny figures down below and lawn darts poor Dr. Coulter.
The Army is approaching, and they're ready to take him down. But Glenn, taking another cue from King Kong, grabs Carol and starts lumbering around the top of the dam with her. They hold their fire until he sets her down.
Once he does, they let loose, and Glenn tumbles down to the water below. All that's left of him are the words "The End!", which float up and fill the screen right before the movie ends.
Afterthoughts: Well, I made it through the first movie on my list. For starting out so slow, the action picks up right near the end before stopping a little abruptly. But this is a good little 50s sci-fi flick. The effects, while cheesy, aren't horribly so. In fact, compared with the next movie on the list, it's practically "Casablanca."
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
Thrift score*
(* post title shamelessly lifted from this very cool book.)
Went thrifting the other day and snagged an addition to my vinyl collection: Full Tilt, a K-Tel collection. Only set me back a quarter.
Not as exciting as the time I found a dozen He-Man videos for 99 cents each, but still very cool.
That was at what in our household is referred to as The Thrift Store Where Jen Got Crapped On By a Bird. To this day, I don't remember its real name. Don't worry, it only hit her jacket.
Back in the days of entirely disposable income, I used to find quite the stack of stuff at thrift stores. But now that people can try to make a few bucks via eBay, I think they aren't donating as much stuff as they used to. I doubt that I'd find one of my most cherished thrift store finds these days.
I speak of the mighty 7-Eleven smock.
Behold its wonder.
Wore this bad boy to high school graduation practice.One of my classmates: "Uh, Jeff, why are you wearing a 7-Eleven smock to practice?"
"Why not?"
She could have told the truth, like "Because you might someday want to go on a date," but thankfully, she just looked puzzled and didn't say anything else.
Every trip to a thrift store or antique store holds the potential of a find such as this. Thus, they are thrift adventures!
Who says I don't do anything exciting?
Monday, August 08, 2005
TV DVDs R A-OK! (LOL)
Two words: Sheesh!
We went to Best Buy the other day and in the DVD section, television releases take up both sides of an entire aisle. In contrast, the musicals, take up maybe a quarter of one side of an aisle.
It's like a childhood dream come true: being able to watch your favorite TV shows whenever you want.
To be honest, this has happened before. It was called independent TV stations. Seriously. Before the niche networks started popping up, you could watch the best (and not-so-much-the-best) programs that TV had to offer.
When I was growing up, I had quite a few to choose from: KBHK 44, KTZO (later KOFY) 20, KTXL 40, KRBK 31, KICU 36, just to name a few. Just about all of them are now Fox, WB or UPN stations now.
Visiting relatives or friends who lived far away from you was extra cool if you were staying for a while because they had a whole different set of channels that would show different shows at different times.
Now, it seems, everywhere in the country, you can change channels as much as you want, but you'll always be watching Seinfeld, Friends, Everybody Loves Raymond, etc.
Theoretically, the niche channels should be picking up the slack, but for the most part, it's the same format, just different shows. Here's part of the TV Land lineup: Gunsmoke, Bonanza, MacGyver, Happy Days, The Brady Bunch, Leave It To Beaver, Green Acres, The Dick van Dyke Show, I Love Lucy, Bewitched and I Dream of Jeannie.
Prime reruns, right? Well, yeah, but it's not like you haven't seen any of those shows in a long time. It's like all the popular kids in school. There are no less-popular shows included, like Hazel or It's About Time.
Or B.J. and the Bear.
I surprised my wife when I told her I wasn't all that interested in the Brady Bunch Season One DVD set. I don't think a month has gone by in 30 years that I haven't seen the Brady Bunch at least once, whether I wanted to or not.I know they play those shows because they're popular They want people to watch. But would it kill them to have an hour of programming where it was like, I don't know, TV Land Presents. You could either show two half-hour shows, or an hour-long show. But they'd be shows that haven't been in heavy rerun rotation.
They're not as popular, and in many case, not as good, but even one or two episodes of a bad TV show has a morbid appeal.
I know; I watched two episodes of My Mother the Car, and I have to admit, it's not as bad as its reputation would have me believe. It's kinda dumb, but it's pretty harmless.
The same thing goes for Cartoon Network and/or its sister channel, Boomerang. This is my message to the programmers there:
Enough of Scooby Doo.
Really.
Doesn't even have anything to do with Scrappy Doo. Just stop, please.
Do I need to see a three-hour block of Turbo Teen? Heck no. But an episode or two would be nice to make sure I didn't hallucinate watching it.
To illustrate the beauty of independent stations (OK, and a little from network channels), here's an example from the April 21-27, 1984 edition of TV Guide.Let's say that I didn't have to go to school on Monday the 23rd. I don't remember if it was spring break, but let's just figure I stayed home.
Wake up at 6. Head out to the kitchen and grab a bowl of Apple Jacks.
6:10 a.m.: Monkees (Channel 44)
6:30 a.m.: The Muppet Show (44)
7 a.m.: Tom and Jerry (Channel 2 or 31)
7:30 a.m.: Batman, Superman, Aquaman -- the 60s Filmation cartoons (44)
8 a.m.: Superfriends (44)
8:30 a.m.: Rocky and Bullwinkle (31)
9 a.m.: Joker's Wild (Channel 13)
9:30 a.m.: Press Your Luck (Channel 5)
10 a.m.: The Price is Right (Channel 10) -- during commercials or dumb games, flip to Tic Tac Dough at 10:30 on Channel 3.
11 a.m.: Let's Make a Deal (Channel 36)
11:30 a.m.: Toss-up -- either Sale of the Century on 3 or Match Game on 36.
Noon: cough, cough ... All My Children ...
1 p.m.: Match Game-Hollywood Squares Hour (3)
2 p.m.: Match Game-Hollywood Squares Hour with different guests (Channel 4)
3 p.m.: Superfriends (40)
3:30 p.m.: Choice of Bugs Bunny, Alice, Star Blazers, Woody Woodpecker or New Zoo Revue
4 p.m.: He-Man and the Masters of the Universe (36) or Superfriends (44)
4:30 p.m.: Superhero cartoons -- a rotating roster including Shazzan! and the New Fantastic Four among others. (36)
After that, it gets to be dinner, and then prime-time shows. But you get the idea.
Of all the game shows, the only one currently on Game Show Network is Match Game. But the first season of the Muppet Show just came out on DVD, and season one of He-Man and the Masters of the Universe is slated for October. There are two box sets of the Superfriends out, as well as the Looney Tunes cartoons. The third Looney Tunes set is also due in October.
And before you ask, yes, the New Zoo Revue is also on DVD. Go nuts.Pretty soon, you could theoretically replicate the childhood fantasy lineup of your choice via DVD, provided you want to spend enough money.
Or you could make your mortgage payment and buy groceries.
I hear that's what grown-ups do.
Thursday, August 04, 2005
Us and them
Okay, let me get this straight.
This week's Us Weekly arrived in the mail today (addressed to my wife, not to me, wisenheimers...) and the cover story is about the interview Jennifer Aniston has given to Vanity Fair.
Boy, I hate when someone talks about a story that's appearing elsewhere.
Er, hmm.
Never mind.
This week's Us Weekly arrived in the mail today (addressed to my wife, not to me, wisenheimers...) and the cover story is about the interview Jennifer Aniston has given to Vanity Fair.
Boy, I hate when someone talks about a story that's appearing elsewhere.
Er, hmm.
Never mind.
Reasons I need to go to Canada...
Aw, man.
I have this horrible habit of jonesing for things that I can't have.
Like hair.
Or in this case, cherry Pez. In the U.S.A., the folks at Pez phased out cherry in favor of grape.
But if the Internet is to be believed (and why not?), cherry Pez is still available in Canada. Check out more pictures here.
Apple Pez is available in Spain, apparently, but that trip might be a little harder to sneak by.
"You want to go where?"
"Spain."
"You don't even speak Spanish."
"I know."
"So why do you want to go?"
"It's a country with a rich history, it's beautiful and .... they have apple Pez."
At that point, my wife would roll her eyes so hard, she could see back to 1982.
This isn't the first time I've coveted a cool flavor of Pez. I snagged a few packs of cola Pez on eBay a while back. At the time, that flavor was mainly available in Japan.
But a month after I got it, we found a whole buttload of the new cola Pez at Toys R Us.
There's no justice sometimes.
If there was, I'd have cherry Pez.
And hair.
Wednesday, August 03, 2005
"Who understands those rap guys?"
Is anyone else disturbed that Target has appropriated Sir Mix-A-Lot's "Baby Got Back" to sell backpacks?
I knew the song was destined to be used in a commercial, but I was thinking more along the lines of cereal.
"I like Grape Nuts and I cannot lie..."
I knew the song was destined to be used in a commercial, but I was thinking more along the lines of cereal.
"I like Grape Nuts and I cannot lie..."
Tuesday, August 02, 2005
Dumb things I've done (3 in an occasional series)
While riding in the car, I was goofing around with my newly purchased school supplies. I took two pencil-top erasers and pinch-suctioned them on both sides of my neck, a la the Frankenstein monster.Why stop at pink rubber neckbolts? I emptied the whole package of erasers and stuck them on various parts of my face.
The flush of pride I felt at my cleverness soon faded when my mom made me take them off and I found that each one had left a miniature (but totally noticeable) hickey.
And then we arrived at the mall.
Never coming to a theater near you: Bad ideas for bad movies
It's the story of an interior decorator who, when knocked in the head by an errant curtain rod, goes on a rampage, dispatching those who get in her way with sconces and Yankee Candles.
The title: Bad Beth and Beyond.
The title: Bad Beth and Beyond.
Sunday, July 31, 2005
Shape of ... a smoking gun!
Well, after this, it will be impossible to convince anyone that I don't have too much time on my hands. Just a warning: this is probably the geekiest thing you'll read today.
I recently mentioned that the Wonder Twins didn't use rings and how I'm such a dork that it bugs me when people said they did.
I figured that maybe people were thinking of the uber-lame Thing cartoon in which teen Benjy Grimm touched his rings together and said "Thing Ring, do your thing!" to change into the Thing.
But then as my wife pointed out, "Who in the world remembers that but you?"
Elsewhere, someone suggested that it was the Shazam cartoon. Billy Batson only needed to utter the magic word "Shazam" to turn into Captain Marvel. But there was a cartoon called "Shazzan," which, like "Superfriends," was a Hanna-Harbera production. It was about two teenagers, Chuck and Nancy, and a genie named Shazzan.
Here's the opening narration, courtesy of IMDB.com:
Inside a cave off the coast of Maine, Chuck and Nancy find a mysterious chest containing the halves of a strange ring. When joined the ring forms the word Shazzan, and with this magical command, they are transported back to the fabled land of the Arabian Knights! Here they meet their genie, Shazzan. Shazzan presents them Kaboobie, a magical flying camel, and gives Chuck a magic belt and rope. Shazzan will serve them whenever they call, but he cannot return them home until they deliver the ring to its rightful owner. And thus begins their incredible journey!
So then it's just a quick hop and a jump through the Yahoo Image Search before I find this picture of the kids joining their ring.
Now compare this to the familiar Wonder Twins transformation scene.
Pretty eerie, huh?
The half-hour show popped up in syndication from time to time, along with just about everything else Hanna-Barbera made, so if you grew up when I did, there's a good chance that you might have seen it.
Another thing that would tie this all together is that Zan and Jayna were featured in short cartoons on the Superfriends shows in which they would help teens in trouble. This usually amounted to saving them from the perils of joyriding, hitchhiking, or being blamed for a tiger escaping from the zoo.
The kicker is that the kids would contact them via the Teen Trouble Alert, which appeared on the wrists of the Wonder Twins for the few seconds they used them. I seem to recall that once or twice, they might have been drawn as ring communicators as opposed to wrist communicators."Superfriends" wasn't exactly known for animation consistency.
So maybe all this stuff got lumped in together in everyone's collective memories to the point that Wonder Twins = rings. Just like after this, me = dork.
I knew that reading all those "Encyclopedia Brown" books would pay off someday...
Friday, July 29, 2005
"And remember, my friends, future events such as these will affect you in the future."
I blame cable TV. And reading.
I am addicted to watching bad movies. Calling them bad isn't fair, exactly; some of them are quite entertaining. But they aren't quite "Citizen Kane," if you know what I mean.
Unless "Citizen Kane" featured a drug-addicted blood-sucker with a turkey's head.
In the early days on HBO and Showtime, the catalog of movies for whatever reason, was a little limited. Thus, certain movies were shown ad infinitum. So I have a soft spot in my heart for such films as "Xanadu," "Super Fuzz" and "The Beastmaster."
Also in the mix was a little flick called "It Came From Hollywood." It starred Dan Aykroyd, John Candy, Gilda Radner and Cheech and Chong. And in those pre Mystery Science Theater 3000 days, this was the first place I saw people making fun of cheesy horror and sci-fi flicks.
At that point, the only chance to see those kinds of movies was on KTVU's Creature Features, hosted by Bob Wilkins and later by John Stanley. It was on late, so I didn't get to see it as often as I'd have liked to.
The movie introduced me to bad brain movies, cautionary drug tales such as "Reefer Madness" and the works of Ed Wood.
Also around this time, I found a book at the library called "The Golden Turkey Awards" by Michael and Harry Medved. While I balked at their inclusion of the 1978 musical "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" (I was only a kid, remember...), I was amazed at the whacked-out ideas that some of these movies were based around.
I wanted to see these bad movies because they looked unbelievably odd. But in those days, there just wasn't the kind of access to cinematic dung that there is today.
And that bugged me, because "It Came From Hollywood" featured a clip from a movie that for years was one of the funniest things I'd ever seen. From the movie "A*P*E," a ripoff of the King Kong remake, there were a few scenes of abysmal special effects work -- the trucks the giant ape was tossing around were obviously toys. But the best one is when the ape, apparently upset by the constant attacks from the army, gives them the finger!
Thankfully, the movie is now available on DVD and is now in my Netflix cue. Woohoo!
Over the years, I tried to track down as many movies from "It Came From Hollywood" and "The Golden Turkey Awards" as I could. It wasn't unusual for me to have movie marathons late at night on the weekends (fortunately, I didn't have any kind of social life to get in the way of such academic pursuits), and I made quite a dent in the horror and sci-fi sections of my local video stores.
It's such a part of my life now that my mother- and father-in-law got me "Blood Freak" on DVD for Christmas last year. "Blood Freak" is the film that has that turkey-headed guy I was talking about earlier.Through the magic of eBay, Netflix and the occasional find at the thrift store, I will be working on what I like to call "Bad Movies A to Z." Twenty-six movies, some bad, some not-so-bad, and even a couple that are pretty good. I picked them based on availability, appeal and, of course, my own gluttony for punishment.
I'd like to say they'll be weekly, but I don't always have as much time to watch movies as I'd like.
The fun will kick off with one of the flicks I learned about from "It Came From Hollywood" -- "The Amazing Colossal Man."
Don't say I didn't warn you.
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
Dumb things I've done (2 in an occasional series)
Sophomore year, high school:
While discussing the elastic properties of the human body, I volunteer the information that I can stick my legs behind my head (a talent I have since lost). I demonstrate and manage to slide down in my chair, lodging me between it and the desk.
Hilarity ensues.
While discussing the elastic properties of the human body, I volunteer the information that I can stick my legs behind my head (a talent I have since lost). I demonstrate and manage to slide down in my chair, lodging me between it and the desk.
Hilarity ensues.
Monday, July 25, 2005
Dumb things I’ve done (1 in an occasional series)
When I was about 9, I realized that if I slouched a little, I could pull my jacket up and zip it up over my head, thus creating the illusion that I was a headless kid.
This discovery would have played out cooler had I not:
A) Come up with it while waiting in the drive-through at Jack in the Box
B) Gotten my hair stuck in the zipper, rendering me unable to unzip the jacket before we got to the window.
As it is, I had to just sit there and hope that the person giving us our food didn’t notice the headless kid in the passenger’s seat.
This discovery would have played out cooler had I not:
A) Come up with it while waiting in the drive-through at Jack in the Box
B) Gotten my hair stuck in the zipper, rendering me unable to unzip the jacket before we got to the window.
As it is, I had to just sit there and hope that the person giving us our food didn’t notice the headless kid in the passenger’s seat.
Sunday, July 24, 2005
But don't take my word for it...
I got a cool book the other day. It’s called “From Abba to Zoom: A Pop Culture Encyclopedia of the Late 20th Century,” by David Mansour.
This isn’t the first “pop culture encyclopedia” I’ve gotten. I’m a sucker for these things, even though they invariably contain much of the same information.
But this one has quite a bit that others don’t, which I really like.
I give the book bonus points for including an entire entry on Schleprock, the mopey sad-sack friend of the teenage Pebbles and Bamm-Bamm on their cartoon show. Now I know there are at least two people who remember that guy.
I checked the entry for the Wonder Twins, and as I suspected, there’s reference to them touching each other’s rings. I’ve mentioned before that this is one of my pop culture pet peeves. Another minor disappointment is in the entry for the Monkees, where the author repeats the urban legend about Charles Manson being one of the guys who tried out.
But these are really minor quibbles with what is a tremendously fun book to read. I mean, how can you not like a book that gives a shout out to Woodsey Owl?
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