When number 2 is number 1

The number one movie over the weekend was the remake of "When a Stranger Calls," which I'm assuming is the result of some large-scale triple-dog dare.

To be fair, I didn't see it yet. I didn't think I needed to, seeing as how the ads reveal what traditionally is the biggest plot twist in that familiar story.

For criminy's sake, "Scream" did a riff on the babysitter urban legend before the opening credits. Are there really people who don't know what's going to happen?

I always figure that if you're going to take a familiar story, you dress it up with things that people haven't seen, maybe change it up a little.

Wouldn't it have been neat if the killer was that "Can you hear me now?" guy from Verizon? At least then the audience would be rooting for someone to dispatch him in an interesting way.

While I will entertain the notion that it's not a bad movie, I've read some of the reviews, and they're not pretty. Over at rottentomatoes.com, it's hovering at 13%, which isn't much better than the 7% garnered by "Big Momma's House 2."

When this drops on DVD, I think I'll check it out to see if it's just as bad as everyone says.

I wouldn't be surprised if there's a direct-to-video sequel to this thing in which another urban legend that really shouldn't be an entire movie by itself is stretched out to feature length. And if we're real unlucky, we'll be getting a whole series of direct-to-video crapfests thrillers:

Don't Go Near the Microwave

Jill has sworn off babysitting for good; from now on, she's strictly a dog watcher. The Derf family entrusts their expensive purebred poodle into Jill's care. The dog is a maniac; it runs all over the place. She rescues Fido from the koi pond, and while she kept the dog from drowning, she needs to dry him before the family gets home, which will be at any minute. Suddenly, the microwave catches her eye, and she gets an idea. All hell breaks loose.

If You Can't Join 'Em, Lick 'Em

After the Fido fiasco, Jill has been getting death threats from the Derfs. To make her feel more secure at night, she gets a guard dog, Duke, to protect her. Whenever she hears a noise or gets scared at night, she just dangles her arm over the side of her bed, and Duke lets her know he's on the job by licking her hand.

One night she hears a lot of strange noises. Luckily, she's got Duke. After he licks her hand, she's able to sleep the rest of the night. When she wakes up, she finds her dog dead in the bathroom, and there's something written in blood on the mirror: People can lick, too. All hell breaks loose.

Pop Goes the Evil

Jill is on the run from the crazed members of the Derf family, who are still mad at what she did to Fido. To evade them, she holes up in a small convenience store in the middle of nowhere.

She gets the munchies, so she grabs a soda and looks for some candy. She finds some Pop Rocks, which, the clerk informs her, are dangerous. She's heard this one before. She rips open the packet and pours the Pop Rocks in her mouth. When she cracks open her soda and takes a swig, a vengeful demon that had been trapped in the candy is released and takes possession of Jill's body.

All hell breaks loose.

Dumb things I've done (5 in an occasional series)

Freshman year German class...

It was time for a gingerbread house competition, and my friend Ken and I decided to enter. Neither of us (as far as I remember) had any experience building a gingerbread house, but it didn't look that hard.

In fact, it looked too easy. I mean, jeez, anyone could build a gingerbread house. We had to come up with something different.

Before I tell you what we picked to make a gingerbread replica of, I should point out that both of us are married.

Not to each other.

In the infinite wisdom that only dorky 14-year-olds can muster, we decided that the way to win the competition was not to build a house, but a replica of everyone's favorite starship, the USS Enterprise.

Well, it had the virtue of never having been tried before.

We employed our mad engineering skillz and figured out the dimensions of all the pieces we needed and mixed up our sugary mortar.

But despite our forethought (at least 3 or 4 minutes), it wasn't until we were well into the assembly phase that we found our problem.

Here's our model. Pay special attention to the warp nacelles (those funky tube things in the back).


Okay, well, in space, that works great. Or if you are working with a substance that is strong enough to support its own weight.

Unlike, say, gingerbread.

Our nacelles -- made of giants candy cane sticks -- refused to stay put no matter how much glue we used. They'd just flop over like wilting flowers.

Well, that just wouldn't work.

After a few minutes, we went from "What would Scotty do?" to "What would Willy Wonka do?" to "Oh, crap, it's due tomorrow."

We propped up the nacelles with smaller candy cane pillars. A little inelegant, yes, but those things stayed up.

Did I mention we had to frost the whole thing, too?

We put the hull registry (NCC-1701-A) on the saucer section with little licorice bits.

Once it was done, it looked pretty sweet.

So to speak.

Project Babe Magnet was finally finished and ready to be gawked at by our impressed classmates.

Alas, we didn't get first prize. That went to someone who had -- unoriginally -- made an actual gingerbread house.

Feh.

We got third place, which was still cool. We each got a Toblerone for our troubles, so it wasn't a total loss.

Hey, free Toblerone, right?

Of course, mine had nuts in it (I hate nuts).

Our edible Enterprise also made it into the yearbook. Ken scanned this in for me. That's ours on the left. The thing cropped out so you can get a better view of the regular gingerbread house.


Oh well. At least the girls thought we were cool after that.

Oh, wait...

A genealogy question

I was sad to read of Al "Grandpa" Lewis' passing the other day. But then I noticed that in some articles, he's referred to as Grandpa Munster.

I haven't seen an episode of the Munsters in a long time, but wasn't Grandpa supposed to be Dracula? Lily Munster's maiden name was Dracula, and I assumed that Grandpa was her dad (or even grandfather, I suppose).

So why would he be Grandpa Munster? He's not related to Herman.

Just the other day I was watching one of his videos, "Grandpa's Sci-Fi Hits," which was a collection of sci-fi movie trailers punctuated with shtick from Grandpa. As always, Lewis is fun to watch, despite the painfully low budget.

Rest in peace, Grandpa.

'The best Burtless movie ever made'

Curiosity has not only killed the cat, but a number of my brain cells.

Seriously, some things sound so bizarre and/or awful that I can't just trust the observations of others -- I have to see it for myself.

That's why my movie library includes things like "Blood Freak," "Microwave Massacre" and "Pieces."

Today my curiosity is piqued by "Smokey and the Bandit 3."

I have no distinct memory of the movie, though I know I've seen it. Burt Reynolds shows up in a cameo at the end.

But what's really got me is that the movie was supposed to be "Smokey is the Bandit," with Jackie Gleason playing both roles.

Huh?

From what I've learned, it tested poorly -- people were confused about the dual role. I'm sure it was confusing to watch, but can't you glean the basic premise from the title? Smokey IS the Bandit. Not a lot of guesswork, is there? I bet these were the people who talk to the characters on the screen.

Not having seen the original cut, I'm just curious about the explanation for it. Why is Smokey the Bandit?

Aside from "Well, the first two made lots of money, so let's make a third," I mean.

Thus far, SitB remains unreleased, though there has been some interest from fans for it to be included as a DVD extra in a future release. But given that you can pick up all three on one dual-sided DVD for $14, I wouldn't hold my breath.

Nonetheless, it's on my list of must-see oddities. I'm actually surprised they haven't tried to relaunch the franchise recently.

But who would play the Bandit?



Or if they decide to try "Smokey is the Bandit" again, there's always this guy...

How do you like them apples?

Sometimes the simple things end up the most complicated. Case in point: Many moons ago on a trip to Stoneridge Mall in Pleasanton, Jen and I stopped at a store that among other things, sold packages of dried apples.

Unlike the apple chips you tend to get in the produce sections in grocery stores, these were irregular chunks of dried apple. On a whim, I bought them, and they were really good.

Most people who know me are surprised when I say that fruit is my favorite snack food, but it's true. I went through the sizable bag by the end of that afternoon.

We didn't have a chance to get back out there for a while, and when we did, the store -- and my coveted apples -- was gone.

Thus began my quest.

In the ensuing years, I think I tried just about every variety of dried apples I could find -- apple chips (too thin and kinda burned), soft dried apples (good, but they look eerily like dried ears) and little shards of dried apple I'd get in cereal.

But not until the other day did I find a suitable replacement. And for only 69 cents.

Score!

They're apple chips made by Mariani, the company that also makes really good soft dried apples (even though they look like ears). The key, according to the back of the bag, is that they are air-dried rather than fried.

I polished off the bag (minus a small amount I saved for today's lunch) in one sitting. Now I have to hit the store to stock up, just in case they find out I like them and stop making them.

EDIT: I went back to the store two days later, and they were gone! Clearly a conspiracy is afoot!

Dumb things I've done (4 in an occasional series)

By the time I was a sophomore in high school, I'd been shaving regularly for a while. But one day, just as my ride approached school grounds, I happened to notice that in my haste to get out of the house on time, I had neglected to shave half of my mustache.

Everything else, no problem. But I had to hang out all day with one half-peach-fuzzed lip and hope no one noticed.

That lasted until all of first period.

73 seconds

I thought she was kidding. I really did.

Our teacher's aide came in around second period looking flushed. I assumed it was because it was still cold outside, but then she told us.

"The Space Shuttle just blew up!"

There were a few nervous laughs from the class. That kind of thing didn't happen, right? She had to be kidding.

We were one of the few classes that had a TV of its own; there was a fleet of older sets on wheel carts that most other classes had to share. My teacher turned on the TV, and we saw the replay for the first of many times.

I was 11 years old.

The image of the split plume is etched in my memory, and consequently, I don't need to add the picture to this entry. If you were there, you probably remember it, too.

There was a lot of buzz surrounding the launch in schools across the country because for the first time, a teacher, Christa McAuliffe, was part of the shuttle crew.

I had an interest in the space program. Not very strong, since I was unlikely to meet the vision requirements (The E at the top of the chart is a blur without my glasses), but just the concept of being in space appealed to me. In space, no one can flick your ear or try to trip you. Plus, you know, lots of Tang on hand. Clearly a lot of pluses here.

When I was a kid, civilian space travel was practically a given. We heard almost from the first day about how when we were grown-ups, we could be flying to work -- on the moon. It was always looming over the next hill, just somewhere down the road. Not after that.

My memory of that day -- 19 years and a day after the Apollo 1 disaster -- pretty much consists of that initial viewing, as if the rest of the day stopped at that point. I've only felt shock like that a few times since then, and both times, I heard about the event from someone else.

On Sept. 11, it was the pilot of our plane (we were heading home to SFO from our layover in Milwaukee) telling us what had happened.

And on Feb. 1, 2003, it was my co-worker at the paper I worked at, calling to see if I could come in early because Space Shuttle Columbia had just disintegrated over Texas. All of a sudden, I was 11 again.

---

Challenger Center for Space Science Education

NASA - Challenger STS 51-L Accident

Space Shuttle Challenger disaster entry at Wikipedia

Snopes.com on Challenger transcript rumor

Yahoo links

Space Shuttle Columbia disaster entry at Wikipedia

NASA - Columbia memorial

Apollo 1 entry at Wikipedia

I'm your vehicle, baby...

My wife and I were watching "The 40-Year-Old Virgin." In one scene, we see the title character's place, and it is stocked to the gills with pop culture ephemera, most notably, action figures.

"Is that the Six Million Dollar Man?" Andy's friend asked, indicating a toy. I squinted and saw that no, it was his boss, Oscar Goldman. I told this to my wife just seconds before it was mentioned in the movie.

"Do you realize that if you hadn't met me, that would be you?" Jen asked. She was kidding.

I think.

But then I realized that she might not be that far off. I have toys that are sealed in their boxes. Not nearly as many as Andy Stitzer, the 40-year-old virgin, but a couple. And given that I had to buy them myself, they're not really worth all that much anyway.

So I decided to liberate these toys from their cardboard prisons and let them breathe the fine air of California's San Joaquin Valley.

The two test subjects were just a tad over 20 years old; one each from Kenner's Super Powers Collection and Mattel's Marvel Secret Wars Collection. A staunch DC reader in my youth, I didn't have that many toys from the latter line; I tended to get a Secret Wars figure only if there were no additions I could make to my own Super Powers Collection.

Here they are: the Doom Roller and the Darkseid Destroyer. I don't know if you can tell or not, but I'm trying really hard to contain myself.

Test Subject 1: Darkseid Destroyer

Part of the second series in the Super Powers Collection, this vehicle was designed for the villainous Darkseid, the evil rule of the planet Apokolips. This isn't the original I had from my youth. I picked this up a few years ago when my brother and I trekked down to San Diego for Comic-Con. I saw this and the Supermobile at one of the first places we went to in the dealers room. And like and idiot, I bought them, not realizing that I'd be schlepping them around the convention floor for the rest of the day. Not that it's heavy, mind you; it's just cumbersome to carry a giant box like that in a room filled with roughly 9 billion people.

---

To ease myself into this, I started with the Darkseid Destroyer, as the box was already opened. I'd just never taken the stuff out. Upon opening the box, I noticed that there were a buttload of stickers for this thing. Check it out.


Just in case the stickers didn't work, I scanned them into my computer. Yeah, I'm a nerd. If you didn't know that already, I don't know what to tell you.


Hmm. Instructions. It's got to be easier than putting together furniture from IKEA.


Wow, check out the plastic. I guess the streaks are from being 20-year-old plastic stored in a loser's house.

Time to put on the stickers, I guess. Twenty years later and I still suck at this part. At least I did better than the guy who did the one for the picture on the box. According to the instructions, he screwed up.


Brody offered to keep an eye on the "spaceship" for me during the stickering process.


A-ha! Done. Finally. Check it out, yo. All the ladies in the audience, try not to swoon, okay?


Look, it even lights up.

Well, that wasn't so bad. Now for the next victim.

Test Subject 2: Doom Roller

A vehicle for the villainous Dr. Doom. The little pod fits on a loop of track and rolls around, hence the name. I picked this up on eBay years ago when I had disposable income. I didn't have this as a kid, but it looked kinda cool. I tried selling it a couple of times, but no one bid on it, so I gave up.

See, it's still sealed.

This should be a snap; there are hardly any stickers to put on, and there's very little assembly. A few guns here, a laser turret there...

Hmm. The pod doesn't want to jump on the track quite right. I managed to get it on there finally, and then I flicked the on switch, waiting for it to roll right off the table.

Nothing.

Well, crap.

I was mildly pleased to see that this vehicle came with one of the cool lenticular shield things that came with the figures. And then I noticed it was Kang, not Dr. Doom. You'd think with it being called the Doom Roller, you'd get Doc Doom. But no.

It's still kinda cool, though. Look:

Kang in the city.

Kang in space.

I thought of maybe cracking open the pod to see if I could fix it, but I think that might be trying too hard. Maybe I should just let it rest, you know.

That's it for this installment of Pimp My Super-Ride. If this isn't a one-way ticket to Thrillsville, I don't know what is.

If ever a Wiz there was

My brain seems specially designed to absorb useless facts and information. Consequently, I liked trivia games and trivia books.

Very rarely is this information actually pressed into service, but hey, you never know.

While going through some old crap I had in boxes, I found the mighty Coleco Quiz Wiz.

These days, Quiz Wiz sounds like a spin-off show from "Fear Factor": Get loaded up on coffee and Mountain Dew and then see how many questions you can answer before you pee your pants.

But no, this was a handheld electronic one-player trivia game. They eventually came out with the Quiz Wiz Challenger, which accommodated up to four players, but take it from me, you never get four people to play after you win too many times. They'd rather be out socializing and things like that.

The Quiz Wiz came bundled with 1,001 general trivia questions, but you could buy other modules that contained themed questions: sports, movies and (my personal favorite, naturally) Super Heroes.

Here's how it worked.

You punch in the number of the question on the keypad. You look at the question in the book and pick what you think the answer is, then you press the corresponding key (A, B, C or D). Then hit the "Answer" key. If it's right, you get a green light and a relatively pleasant tone. If you get it wrong, it's the red light and a buzz.

I thought I'd test my memory so see how much of this I still had locked up in the old noggin.

I've still got it. And let me tell you, knowing comic book trivia from 25 years ago -- much of which is now obsolete -- really impresses the ladies.

The questions -- all about DC Comics characters -- were complied by Bob Rozakis, who among other numerous comic credits, was DC's famed "Answer Man."

I distinctly remember that one of the questions in the book is wrong; I imagine it just got coded wrong in the assembly process. Alas, I don't really have time to go through all the questions.

I did, though, like the answers to choose from in this question:

57. In order to attend Legion meetings, Superboy must:

A. travel through time to the 30th century
B. travel through a space warp to the 12th century
C. use a cosmic treadmill
D. take the "A" train to Harlem

The answer is A. Or it used to be when this came out originally. If you have a year or so, I can try to explain how it's different, but I'd bet you probably don't really want to know.

I know my wife doesn't.

No, not that movie with John Lithgow...

I caught the first half of an interesting documentary called "Raising Cain: Boys in Focus". It's about emotional development in boys these days and the problems they have in school.

The first part dealt mostly with pre-high-school, and seeing some of the kids, it reminded me how amazingly alien they are. And I totally don't mean this in a disparaging way; it's fascinating. The way they interpret and synthesize the information they get surprises me.

It's like 1 + 1 = CANTALOUPE!!!

Brody's going to be 3 in May, and I wonder what he's going to be like as he gets older. Right now, he's unusually well-mannered. He says "please" and "thank you" most of the time without any prompting, and when he refuses food (90% of the time), he says "No, thank you."

This, despite the fact that he spends his days with his old man.

He's very affectionate; he loves hugs and kisses. He asks for "threekiss," which is when Jen and I both kiss him on his cheek. And when you get a hug, he says, "Squeeze hard!"

So watching the documentary gave me a whole new set of things to worry about, not the least of which is hoping he doesn't end up like me.

When Michael Thompson, who wrote the book on which the documentary is based, asks a 13-year-old outcast some of the names his peers call him, I called them all out before he did. You never forget, I guess.

Like riding a bicycle.

One that calls you names.

I see in Brody different parts of Jen and me. He's blindingly smart; he makes connections between things that neither of us expect. He gets that from her, I think. He's also as cute as the dickens, which he also gets from Mom. But he seems to have pretty good retention for details, which is my blessing and my curse. Hopefully he won't be burdened with lyrics to 25-year-old gum commercials locked in his head.

If he does, he can always get his skis shined up, grab a stick of Juicy Fruit -- the taste is gonna move him.

I just hope he's not as introverted as I am. As I mentioned the other day, I'm still quite shy. Shyness, I've found, is a malady on par with "a case of the vapors" in terms of people taking it seriously. One of the few things more aggravating than being shy and seemingly unable to change it is being told to "just stop being shy," which seems like telling an anorexic to "just eat a sandwich."

I'm keen to see the rest of the documentary, even though I'm sure it will give me still more things to worry about.

If I'm lucky, it'll crowd out the Juicy Fruit song.

Me, myself and I

If I had any Photoshop skills at all (or patience), this would look cooler. I was just struck by the fact that at three separate trips to the so-called "Happiest Place on Earth," I look less than my happiest.

I also appear to have shrunk.

And I look more like the Pillsbury Doughboy than either of my younger incarnations.

Time to hit that gym.

This happens way too often

I'll be minding my own business, and it doesn't matter what I'm thinking about. All of a sudden, this starts running through my head:

Chaka Khan, let me rock you
Let me rock you, Chaka Khan
Let me rock you, that's all I wanna do
Chaka Khan, let me rock you
Let me rock you, Chaka Khan
Let me rock you, 'cause I feel for you
Chaka Khan, won't you tell me what you wanna do
Do you feel for me the way I feel for you
Chaka Khan, let me tell you what I wanna do
I wanna love you, wanna hug you, wanna squeeze you too
Let me take you in my arms
Let me fill you with my charms, Chaka
Cuz you know that I'm the one to keep you warm, Chaka
I'll make it more than just a physical dream
I wanna rock you, Chaka baby, cuz you make me wanna scream
Let me rock you -- rock you

And I've never even met Chaka Khan.

Is that weird?

Wondering about WonderCon

WonderCon is almost upon us again. So in no particular order, some thoughts on comic conventions:

After going to last year's show, I decided that the 2005 con was my last.

Okay, maybe I was a little hasty.

Last year, I got a little overwhelmed. It seemed a lot more crowded than before, with not many places to be out of the way while my brother and my cousin were checking out the back issues.

This is a problem I have with going just about anywhere. I don't like crowds. I get really irritable, and when it gets really crowded, I start stressing out a lot.

So you can imagine the fun I had at the 2002 Comic-Con in San Diego, where the attendance was roughly in the billions.

The other thing that kinda bummed me out is how much more expensive things have gotten in the relatively short time I've been going. My first WonderCon was only in 1999, I think, and it seemed pretty laid back.

But last year, a lot more celebrities were asking to be paid for signing anything, even if it was something you brought yourself. I still haven't figured out how I feel about this.

On one hand, I know that many TV stars from my youth don't get residuals from the shows they were on, and this is a way for them to make some scratch. But I don't know.

I have no problem paying an artist for a sketch, though I've seen plenty who don't charge. I pay my $20 and I have a tangible product from someone whose work I admire. Does an actor whose show I grew up watching and enjoying deserve the same $20 for scribbling their name on something I bought to support their show in its initial run and brought with me?

I haven't paid for an autograph yet, if that tells you anything. I know some people are getting autographs for resale, and this is a way for actors to make sure they're getting something for it, but it just rubs me the wrong way. Glossy pictures that they bring with them? Sure, I know that stuff costs money. Asking for a donation to charity? No problem.

But here's the thing: I have a limited amount of money. Am I going to spend it on artwork, videos and (of course) comic books, or am I going to spend it so a star can sign my trading card?

I have to maximize my spending.

Okay, I feel like I'm ranting, so I'm gonna stop. There are lots of cool things about conventions. I got to meet the hosts of "Creature Features," Bob Wilkins and John Stanley. I almost ran right into announcer extraordinaire Gary Owens because I wasn't watching where I was going.

I think my biggest problem is that I am painfully shy. The con is filled with tons of nice people whose work I admire, and I have a hard time talking to any of them. Fortunately, my brother is always with me, and he has no problem talking to anyone. He doesn't see why I have a hard time.

"Dude, they're not going to eat you. Just talk to them. That's why they're there. Jeez, grow a pair, huh?"

My baby brother, ladies and gentlemen.

He's right, though. If I were a guest at a convention, I'd be jazzed to hear from someone who liked my work. Sure, some clown could come up to my table and tell me how much I suck, but chances are that it would be my brother, anyway.

If you are going to WonderCon this year (probably on the 11th), be on the lookout for someone who looks like this and say hi.

And yes, I know that 53% of the attendees will look vaguely like that, just in different shapes and sizes. You'd know me if you saw me.

I'm the one holding up the wall.

Golden Turkeys

I was perusing the old bookcase and stumbled upon my copy of "The Golden Turkey Awards" by Harry and Michael Medved. As I've mentioned previously, this book and the movie "It Came From Hollywood" served as my introduction into the world of cheesy movies.

I noticed the claim that one of the movies in the book was actually a hoax. I got to wondering which one it was and was getting ready to try to find it, but my crack team of researchers (I looked it up on Google) found that I'd been beaten to the punch by Peter Chattaway, who did some sleuthing of his own. Check it out.

Well, darnit, I'd already spent a whole minute scanning the book cover, so I didn't want my time to be wasted. So I went through the book to see how close I was to my goal of seeing all the movies profiled in the book.

So far, 48. A little more than that, actually; there are a few I know I saw when I was little but have no memory of.

Here they are. The titles with a * are movies that are a permanent part of the massive Siftin' Film Archive.

---

Attack of the Fifty-Foot Woman

It's okay. Allison Hayes is pretty easy on the eyes, and consequently, this was one of the first I managed to see. I also had the poster on my wall when I was younger.

Attack of the Killer Tomatoes

I was led to believe by my friend Ken that this was a laff riot. We watched it during a New Year's Eve "Too-Young-to-Party-and-It's-Not-Likely-We'd-Have-Been-at-the-Top-of-the-Invite-List-Anyway" movie marathon in junior high school. It was a triple feature of this, "The Rocky Horror Picture Show" and "Joe Versus the Volcano." I should point out that we weren't aiming for a so-bad-it's-good show.

Barbarella

I don't remember a lot of it. There was Jane Fonda and, uh, some guy with wings and the fast-forward button on the VCR remote.

Battlestar Galactica

The old one. Stitched together for theatrical release. Saw it on a really slow weekend movie on TV.

Beware! the Blob

Directed by Larry Hagman. I remember that this was pretty boring. This is a recurring theme, in case you hadn't noticed.

Blood Feast *

The granddaddy of splatter movies. Cheesy effects, real thin story. But it has a kooky charm to it.

The Brain from Planet Arous

Reviewed this for an assignment in my journalism class in high school. I can't remember if I actually got it in the school paper. I vaguely remember a part that referred to Mystery Mountain as a remote place that hadn't seen people in a hundred years. Shortly after, the leads mention that they were there last week.

The Brain That Wouldn't Die *

Immortalized in an episode of Mystery Science Theater 3000. This is a pretty cool movie that gets bonus points for the ick-factor our hero exudes when he's looking for a replacement body to attach to his girlfriend's head.

Bug!

Big roaches that shoot fire out of their butts. Awesome. This one kinda scared me a little when I saw it on TV as a kid.


Cat Women of the Moon *

It was cheap, and I think it had 3-D glasses, which I wanted for a 3-D comic I got out of a bargain bin. If not, then I have no idea why I bought it.

Damien: Omen II

Spelled doom for any hapless kid named Damien. Unless, of course, he could beat you like a tentpeg into the ground.

The Devil's Rain *

It's got William Shatner and a bunch of melty devil worshippers. What else do you want? Ernest Borgnine? Okay. Done.

Earthquake

I have no memory of seeing this, but my parents told me that not only did they bring me to this, but I slept through the whole thing. IMDB.com gives it a release date of Nov. 15, 1974, so I either my parents caught it at the drive-in after it had been out for a whlie, or they took a not-quite-2-week-old to the movies. I'm guessing the former, but if I'm wrong, I'm sure I'll hear about it.

Exorcist II: The Heretic

I've seen this more than once. On purpose. A contender for inclusion in Bad Movies A to Z, but I went with "Elephant Parts" because I didn't feel like doing that to myself again.

Grease *

There are a few movies in this book that probably wouldn't be included in a book of bad movies now. I've seen this so many times that it's a part of my childhood. I'd like to point out that I'm still not as old as Stockard Channing was when she played Rizzo. Not by much, but hey...

The Great Gatsby

Who'd have thought that junior-year English class would help me cross off one of the movies on my list?

Head *

I like the Monkees. This is a weird movie that I have to be in the mood to watch. I listen to the soundtrack CD a lot, though.

The Horror of Party Beach

In junior high school, I rented every horror and sci-fi flick I could get my hands on, and this was one of them. Some of them I remember well, and others, like this one, not so much.

The House on Haunted Hill *

A relatively slow but pretty solid Vincent Price movie. It's one of my favorites, and among the first of my horror acquisitions.

The Incredible Melting Man *

Cool effects, lame everything else. The movie opens with astronauts returning from a trip to Saturn. Saturn -- the gaseous planet. Somebody wasn't paying attention in science class, and it wasn't me.

It's Alive

Monster mutant babies terrorize adults. That's almost as cool a concept as Snakes on a Plane.

I Was a Teenage Werewolf

That's not Charles Ingalls stalking students, is it? Say it ain't so, Little Joe! I always wanted to make a movie called I Was a Teenage Teenager, but I see the title has been used elsewhere.

Jaws 2

Much better than "Jaws: The Revenge," but then, I could say that about almost all the other movies on the list.

Jesse James Meets Frankenstein's Daughter *

Technically, I haven't watched it yet, but I picked up the DVD from Target last Halloween for only a buck. I have yet to see if I got pooched on that deal.

Jesus Christ Superstar

My brother and I differ in opinion on Jesus-themed musicals. He prefers this one, while I liked "Godspell" better. I just know that when I was caught taking the Lord's name in vain as a youngster, my mom did not believe that I was building up to a performance of this movie's title song.

The Killer Shrews *

Another cheap DVD purchase. Easily the best giant rodent movie that features Roscoe P. Coltrane from "The Dukes of Hazzard."

King Kong

The 1976 version from Dino De Laurentiis, whose granddaughter, Giada, is on Food Network's "Everyday Italian," which seems to be always on around my house. She smiles an awful lot.

The Last House on the Left *

On my list of horror movies that will never be made into Disney animated features.

The Little Shop of Horrors (original)

A low-budget flick from Roger Corman. Don't watch it expecting a peppy musical.

Mars Needs Women

Movie needs plot.

Night of the Lepus

Yes! Giant killer bunny rabbits! This movie not only has DeForest Kelley, who played Dr. McCoy on Star Trek, but it also has Paul Fix, who played Dr. Piper in the show's second pilot. I knew that without looking it up. And no, I'm not a dork.

Orca

Nope, not influenced by "Jaws." It's an interesting story. Apparently, it was supposed to be about an infestation of killer okra, but there seems to have been a transcription error and it wound up being about a whale instead. Bummer.

Plan Nine from Outer Space *

I would guess that much of Plan Nine's rep comes from this book, as it was honored as "Worst Movie Ever." It's not the worst movie ever. I'd rather watch this than "Batman and Robin," and even that isn't the worst movie ever.

Reefer Madness *

I was disappointed by this. For one reason, it's reaaaaaaalllllly slow. If you've seen the "Play it faster!" or "Agony!" scenes, you've seen some of the best parts.

Robot Monster *

The titular creature is a guy in a gorilla suit with a diving helmet on. That means some alien designed the robot to look like that. Now that is scary.

The Rocky Horror Picture Show

I would be willing to bet that this is a scream in a real theater or live. Watching it as a 12-year-old around midnight after a half-dozen donuts just didn't do it for me. But it's on my list to re-watch.

Santa Claus Conquers the Martians

I think this is much worse than Plan Nine From Outer Space. You at least got the feeling Ed Wood liked movies even if he wasn't very good at it, but this earns a place in the Halls of Suckitude.

Scream, Blacula, Scream

I prefer the original Blacula, but William Marshall rocks as the title vampire. If they'd made Blacula Conquers the Martians and he'd been in it, I'd still watch it.

Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band *

The first time I read this, I was mad that the authors were dissing it. It wasn't even that I thought it was a great movie. It was that they had a picture out of context and made fun of it.

Skidoo

Technically, I watched the end. Harry Nilsson sings the closing credits. All of them. Awesome.

Smokey and the Bandit

I like Smokey and the Bandit. But not the edited-for-TV version. At least with this one, they tried to find someone who sounds like the people being dubbed. Still bugs me, but not as much. See, a little bit of effort goes a long way with me.

Superdad

I think that I managed to see every Disney movie released on video in the early days of VCRs, including this one and Condorman. Either that, or I saw it on the Disney Channel. Clearly, it made an impression on me.

Superman *

Was only included in the book for a goofy credit to General Mills for making Cheerios. Otherwise, a good flick.

The Texas Chainsaw Massacre *

I like titles that tell you all you need to know before watching the movie. It's sort of like the theme songs to "Gilligan's Island" and "The Brady Bunch."

The Thing with Two Heads *

Ray Milland plays a dying bigot who gets his head grafted onto Rosie Greer's shoulders. Hilarity ensues. This is dying to be remade.

The Tingler

Another Vincent Price movie from William Castle. In select theaters, the seats were rigged to deliver mild shocks, simulating attack by the Tingler. I can't imagine anyone even getting close to trying that these days.

The Towering Inferno

Not to be confused with Disco Inferno.

You Light Up My Life

I saw this at the drive-in when I was but a child, and the damn song is still stuck in my head.

And still, of all of these movies, not one was the worst movie I've ever seen. If I can bring myself to do it, I'll take another look at it and write about it.

My favorite ornament

For Christmas, I tried something new. Sculpting with Sculpey polymer clay.

My sculpting experience was limited pretty much to the Play-Doh Fun Factory (and one or two tries with the Fuzzy Pumper Barber Shop), so I wasn't sure how my project would turn out.

My goal was to make a Christmas ornament in remembrance of our son Harry. I drew up a little cartoon version of my little Wookiee that I liked, so I tried to translate that into clay.

If you do the math, it looks a little like this:

Fisher-Price Little People + Willow Tree figurines + Chewbacca =



It's not perfect, but I like it a lot and it looked cool up on the tree.

But they won't fall down

One of the things my son got for Christmas was Weebles Weebly Wobbly Tree House, which he enjoys quite a bit.

I try to be enthusiastic about it, but in the back of my mind, all I hear is "Those aren't Weebles!"

Let's look at what passes for Weebles these days.

And here's a Weeble from the days they were made of stone (Thank you, Google image search).

And even better, here's an inflatable Weeble from the Siftin' Toy Archive. Now that's a Weeble. I hear his older brother had a small role in "Airplane."

And to clarify, the inflatable Weeble and I are just friends. That's all. Perverts.


I have a similar problem with the Fisher-Price Little People. Compare:


Now, I realize that the old ones pose a choking hazard (anything that fits through a toilet paper tube, as I recall), but I like the way the old ones look better. The new ones look like the Campbell's Soup Kids.

My favorite was the dog, but I also thought the blonde lady was kinda cute. Those eyes...



In storage, I've got some of the Little People Playsets (including the REAL farm), but we'll have to wait till Brody's a little older before I he can play with them.

Long Title: Do I Have to Do This All Over Again?

I'm a bit excited this week. For starters, "Scrubs" is back on Tuesdays, and tonight, a new episode of "The Office."

But it gets better, cats and kittens.

Soon, perhaps today, the next disc in my Netflix queue will arrive.

I don't always watch the movies in the order in which I'm going to review them, so I've already seen the H and J movies. Heck, I've already gotten the N movie. The G movie sits on my own shelf o' movies, and the next movie, the F movie, seems interesting after watching the first 8 minutes.

As many of these are horror movies, I have to watch them while my son is napping, which is not that often these days.

Anyhow, the imminent arrival I'm awaiting is the Ray Dennis Steckler classic, "The Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed-Up Zombies."

This movie shot to the top of my must-see list as soon as I learned of it. I was tantalized by brief clips of it in "It Came From Hollywood."

I tracked it down in the days I tried to watch every horror movie I could find -- junior high. One of the local video stores had a dusty copy sitting on the shelf, so I talked my parents into renting it for me, and I took it home, eager to see what was billed as "The World's First Monster Musical."

See, this came out before "Xanadu."

As the movie started, I was impressed by the use of silence. Usually horror movies were loud and spooky-sounding from the beginning. It was only once people started talking and I couldn't hear them that I realized the tape was defective.

And of course, with such an odd movie, it's not like they had more than one copy. I had to settle for some other celluloid crapfest instead and have now reached my 30s without having seen it.

Technically, this arrived last week -- I was ready to pop it in and check it out. Then I noticed the large crack in the disc.

Fie! Stymied again.

So now I wait for the mail to be delivered.

Wait, wait, wait...

Triangle Man hates Particle Man, but Brody likes Triangle Man

Last night, I was goofing around on my keyboard (the musical kind, not what I'm doing right now), playing They Might Be Giants songs for my 2-year-old, Brody. As he was deeply involved with his letter cards, I assumed he wasn't paying attention.

But then I picked out the accordion riff and played it without too many mistakes. Brody stopped what he was doing and looked at me.

"Triangle!"

"What?" I asked, turning around.

"Triangle!"

Brody has been exposed to vast quantities of They Might Be Giants since birth, but aside from "Here Come the ABCs" and selections from "No!" I didn't think he was paying attention.

I was happy for two reasons: first, Brody's appreciation of music is better than I thought, and second, I played the part well enough for him to recognize it.

W00t!

Happy new year

Unlike many, I declined to recap 2005, mostly because, well, it was the worst year of my life. Lots of good things happened, but it all was overshadowed by the bad. My wife and I were tempted to have a "Bite Me, 2005" party. Well, that's not exactly the name I suggested, but I think you can do the math there.

So no more 2005. We're a few days into 2006, and while they've been rainy and gloomy, nothing particularly bad has happened. So far, so good.

At the risk of sounding cliche, I'm going to try to improve my health this year. I'm not going on a full-blown diet or joining a gym, but I'm going to try to eat a little better and actually do some exercise.

I've already gone without eating fast food this year so far. I'll see how long that lasts.

As for this blog, there'll be more movie reviews (I'm up to F in Bad Movies A to Z; my goal is to finish the alphabet before the end of the year), more glimpses from years past and of course, mildly inappropriate humor.

I'll try to keep this up on a more regular basis, but life has a way of interrupting and tends to take priority over talking about toys I used to have.

More regular blogging tomorrow, so tell all your friends. Why, I bet I can crack the high double-digits for visitors this year if I try hard enough.

Here's to a fresh new year.

Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas to everyone from everyone here at Siftin' (which, I guess, is, uh, just me).

And, Happy Hanukkah!


And if I'm not here tomorrow, Happy Kwanzaa!