Shirt happens

It's a fact of life: You can't have too many T-shirts.

There are quite a few shirts I wouldn't mind picking up at 80sTees.com, but this one just jumps out at me.

Or maybe this one.

Definitely this one.

Yup.

Things that make you go HNNNNNNNH!

It's Father's Day, and though this is my third opportunity to celebrate my fatheritudosity, it's still a little weird for me.

Mother's Day doesn't freak me out, most likely because I'm not a mother, though I am a bad mother--

(shut your mouth!)

Father's Day is like someone coming up to me and telling me that it's my birthday, even though I know it's not.

Have I really done enough to warrant celebration for my performance as a father? I spend a lot of time with Brody, which is cool, but am I doing okay? Lemme check.

He knows his superheroes.

He recognizes the themes to "Star Wars," "Superman" and "The Price is Right."

He knows "Guess what? Chicken butt" but doesn't abuse it.

So far, so good.

---

My own dad is a tremendously good sport with a great sense of humor. I say this not because I'm planning on telling a funny story about him but because he put up with my brother and me making merciless fun of him while we were growing up. It wasn't malicious; it was always out of love.

Even when we, ignoring the dynamics of regional dialects, teased him for saying "warsh" instead of "wash," which he has since stopped.

I'm ignoring the time we were in a Burger King parking lot and the bubbles from the first sip of soda tickled my dad's nose, and he, trying to fight the impulse to sneeze, emitted a strangely loud "HNNNNNNNH!" noise. No need to recount that tale.

One of the funniest things -- and the first to give me an image of what I'd likely be like as a dad -- happened here in Modesto.

It was summer day in Modesto, which in the words of Eugene Jerome was "Africa hot." We were going to a store, and our car didn't have air conditioning. So after our shopping trip, we could look forward to bursting into flame once we got back in the hot car.

To reduce the heat a little, my dad would often park by a tree for shade. And every time we parked by a tree, he'd tell us that it wouldn't be as hot when we got back in.

"Look," he said as he pulled into a parking place, "right by a tree. Pretty sly, huh?"

As he said the word "sly," the end of the parking spot came a little quicker than he'd anticipated, and he had to stop abruptly, which caused his Big Gulp to fly forward, splashing on the floorboards. Much laughter and Flintstonian grumbling ensued.

That was, oh jeez, like probably 20 years ago, and we still can't mention the word "sly" without laughing.

Happy Father's Day, Dad.

He's a very nifty guy

I think it's funny that the two songs Harry Nilsson is probably best known for are two that he didn't write: "Everybody's Talkin'" and "Without You."

Nilsson would have celebrated his 65th birthday today. Alas, he died in 1994.

I'd listened to his work since I was little, either listening to songs from his "Nilsson Schmilsson" album or hearing others sing songs that he wrote, such as Three Dog Night's cover of "One."

You know, the loneliest number that you'll ever do.

There are two artists that prompted me to become obsessed with all things Nilsson: The Monkees and the Muppets.

No, really.

I loved the Monkees as a kid, and in high school, I plunked down my hard-earned funds (I begged my parents) and bought Listen to the Band, the 4-disc box set Rhino Records put out.

Turned out that some of the songs I liked the most were written by Harry Nilsson. That was weird, but it wasn't until I rediscovered the old Muppet Show record I had as a youngster.

There was a song on there -- a duet with Scooter and Fozzie Bear -- called "Simon Smith and the Amazing Dancing Bear." I wanted to know who had written it. The album was a little help; it listed the writer as Newman.

A few clicks on the Internet and I found that not only was it written by Randy Newman, but Harry Nilsson had covered it as well. Newman also wrote "Mama Told Me Not to Come," which was a big hit for -- yes, Three Dog Night.

And then it really hit me. He'd always been around.

As a kid, I loved the movie "Popeye" with Robin Williams and was happy when my cousin supplied me with a tape of the film soundtrack. Guess who did all the music?

He wrote the theme song to "The Courtship of Eddie's Father," which I'd singled out as one of the best on my battered copy of "Television's Greatest Hits."

He showed up in biographies of John Lennon and Micky Dolenz. It was in his London apartment that Cass Elliot, my favorite member of The Mamas and the Papas, died of heart failure in 1974; a few year later, in the same room, the Who's Keith Moon would also die.

So I set out to get all the Nilsson stuff I could find.

There aren't many celebrities I wish I could have met; Jack Benny is one that comes to mind. I wish I'd had the chance to meet Harry if only to thank him for his music. His voice is simply amazing, and his lyrics showed a devilish sense of humor at work.

Go buy a Nilsson album. If you can't pick which one, get one of the greatest hits compilations. That'll give you an idea of where to go from there.

I had to convince my wife that our son, Brody Alexander, didn't owe his name to Nilsson's favorite drink, the Brandy Alexander.

It's true. That didn't even occur to me until later.

Honest.

Random observations and ponderings

I'm probably the last to notice this, but Camry is an anagram of "My car."

How do my shoelaces come undone while I'm sitting?

Why does "The Da Vinci Code" remind me of "Midnight Madness"?

Having fun on the beach

I sat down to write and -- this happens from time to time -- I spaced out. When I zoned back in and looked at my screen, it was filled over and over with "All work and no play makes Jeff a dull boy."

A-ha, I thought, maybe a vacation wouldn't be a bad idea.

Going to a hotel with a topiary maze didn't seem like a very good idea, so we headed for Santa Cruz for a little relaxation. Much to my surprise, I had a good time. I wasn't expecting Santa Cruz to be a drag or anything; just the opposite. I am practically physically incapable of having a good time.

Ask anyone who knows me and is forced to be around me.

My son flew solo on a ride for the very first time, which was kind of nice. I wasn't sure he'd go for it, but after the first few times around the car carousel, he started getting into it and playing with the steering wheel. He liked it so much he wanted to go on the boat ride right next to it.

And despite the crowds, there wasn't a huge wait for rides. Heck, I practically walked right on to the Giant Dipper. Score!

I wasn't mobbed on the beach by adoring women even though it's a well-known fact that chicks dig guys who wear shirts on the beach, even when they go in the water. It's just as well; it's embarrassing to have to disappoint them and tell them I'm already taken.

Aside from the aftermath of defective sunblock, it was a good time all around. I think we need to do that more often.

Next on Sci-Fi: New Zoo Revue

As seen here, the Sci-Fi Channel is now adding Extreme Championship Wrestling to their lineup.

Apparently, says the Sci-Fi prez, "Research tells us that there's a healthy appetite for wrestling among Sci Fi viewers."

I'm sure there's also a healthy appetite for all kinds of things, such as bikini models, puppy dogs and pants that don't tent out embarrasingly in the zipper region.

However, if you have a channel called the "Sci-Fi Channel," you might want to stick with things that are even tangentially science fiction.

I'm just saying.

I've been known to check out wrestling from time to time; I have nothing against it. I miss the old days of Hulkamania, when Hulk Hogan punctuated every sentence with a hearty "brother!" I still do this from time to time, brother!

But what's the point of niche networks if you stray out of the niche you staked for yourself (often to the point of excluding others from showing certain programs)?

That would be like an all-music-video channel suddenly showing cartoons and game shows.

Oh, wait.

This, of course, follows reruns of "Saved by the Bell" being shown on Cartoon Network, so in the coming months I'm sure we'll see some of the following:

Motorsports on Lifetime -- Because research indicates that women drive cars.

Reruns of "Vega$" on GSN -- Because they play games in Las Vegas.

Reruns of "Jackass" on C-SPAN.

If you have vast libraries of science-fiction television programming at your disposal and the best you can come up with is wrestling (I'm not even getting into the Sci-Fi Original Movies), then you have serious problems, brother!

Holy shirt!

Have I mentioned how cool my wife is?

"Oh, I got you something," she said casually one day when I was kinda bummed out.

She could've just told me to wait for it to arrive, but she knows that I can guess just about any gift, even without any clues. So she showed me a picture.

When I was going through pictures, I saw 3-year-old me wearing a shirt with a picture of Darth Vader. On it, it said "Darth Vadar Lives." Since it was spelled wrong, I assumed it was a bootleg shirt or something. Apparently not.

So Jen found a place that carries old store stock T-shirt transfers and got me an adult-sized version of my old shirt.

Through the magic of the Siftin' Temporal Studies department, my younger self and I are modeling our respective shirts.

So in case I haven't mentioned it, yes, my wife is quite cool. Why she hangs around me, I don't know.

Rejected commercials, No. 37

"Bad cholesterol, my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.

"Crestor. Down with the bad cholesterol. Up with the good."

What day is it?

The more I think about being a kid, the more I really think kids are a little bit nuts. Things that made perfect sense to me as a kid now strike me as bizarre.

Even with as many rules as there are for grown-ups, I think kids had more. Everything had specific ways to be done, from picking teams (Ink-a-Bink or Bubblegum, bubblegum in a dish) to requesting kickball pitches (slow with baby bouncies).

There were even guidelines for the specific days of the week. I don't know what they were at other schools, but this is what we had at ours:

Monday Marriage Day: If you held a girl's hand (or vice-versa), you were instantly bound in permanent matrimony. Until recess was over.

Tuesday Toes-Day: Beware the kids going around stomping on your toes when you're not paying attention. The only way to ward off the attack is by walking on your heels with your toes up. While it protects you from getting stomped, it doesn't protect you from looking like a moron.

Wednesday Wedding Day: I couldn't figure out how this was much different from Monday Marriage Day.

Thursday Throw-Up Day: I don't know that anyone actually did this, at least intentionally. Not a bunch of pukers at my school, I guess.

Friday Flip-Up (or Flip-Off) Day: To kick off the weekend, Fridays were the days that boys would theoretically flip up girls' dresses on the playground. I say theoretically, because, thanks to different growth rates, girls were sometimes taller than boys and would either pound you with their metal lunchboxes or gouge you with the one pinky fingernail they keep long for just such an occasion. I only heard about one kid flipping up a girl's dress, and that was when the days of the week were being explained to me on my first or second day after transferring to the school.

Friday Flip-Off Day was slightly more prevalent, if only for the fact that your can be a little more subtle about flipping people off. Of course, not everyone had the manual dexterity to really flip the bird that well, but we tried as hard as we could, even if we had to hold the other fingers down.

I did not participate in Friday Flip-Off Day because of an incident at my old school in which I, having seen Clyde the Orangutan get many laughs doing so in "Every Which Way But Loose" but not understanding why, flipped off my friend Jimmy, who was standing in line to get lunch. I was immediately disciplined by a passing teacher and had sworn off giving people the bird.

In plain view of teachers or yard duty supervisors, at least.

Extra coolness

Brody and Mr. T have the same birthday. Awesome.

You say it's your birthday

Yesterday was Brody's third birthday. The big 0-3. We decided to get him a neat-o sand table with which he can have all the construction-themed adventures he wants.

He loves digging and scooping, and now that it's almost summer, it's the perfect outside toy.

So before all the birthday revelry began, I put together the table on the back patio -- while it was raining. In May. In California. But did the rain get Brody the Builder down? Heck no. That's all he wanted to do -- just dig in the sand, wearing his hard hat.


Then he took a break.


"It's raining!"

If he could've, he would have probably stayed outside playing in the sand all day. But we're mean parents, and we made him come inside to open presents and stuff like that.

And unless the present in question had wheels, he wasn't interested. Unless it was a book about trucks with wheels. That was okay.

I think next year he might have more of an idea of what's going on. Heck, next year he might even try some ice cream cake, which he typically refuses the way most people react to rat poison or "Xanadu."

Still, it was nice to have the family over for Brody's birthday.

Even my brother.

I guess.

Old-school handheld gaming

I know I say it a lot, but man-o-man, I loves me some Internet.

I was going through a few boxes in the massive Siftin Artifact Archive, and I came across some old Super Pac-Man Rub-Off Game cards. Alas, the cards are so old, the dots won't rub off anymore. Well, actually, they will, but they'll take a few layers of the card with them, so they're not as much fun.

It'll be hard explaining the fun of these things when my son grows up. Actually, it's hard to say that we played "Rub-Off games" without my inner 12-year-old smirking. But fortunately, you can't see me and you'll be none the wiser about how immature I am.

This was the cool thing back in the day; the idea was to rub off (huh-huh-huh...) one circle at a time and tally the points earned for whatever was under the dot. Blue monsters, for example, were worth 10 points. You had to go in a line; you couldn't skip around willy-nilly. If you found three regular non-blue ghost monsters, your game was over. It was like a small paper version of Super Pac-Man.

Step 7 in the instructions tells you to "Use SUPER PAC-MAN stickers as prizes, for trading or collecting."

Here's your prize:


If you want to learn more, check out this cool page. Not only are the Super Pac-Man cards featured, but also regular Pac-Man, Ms. Pac-Man, Donkey Kong, Dragon's Lair and Robot Wars.

I also remember Video City cards, which featured a few other games.

And while we're on the subject of dubious attempts to cash in on the video game craze, this also came from one of the catacombs in the archives.


Yes, a Defender board game.


I had the Pac-Man board game when I was younger, and I actually had fun moving my plastic Pac around the board, gobbling marbles with it.

This game, well, it cost me 99 cents at a thrift store.

Something to look forward to

Coolness.

I just found out that a movie I've been wanting to see for a long time is coming out on DVD next month, thanks to Anchor Bay (who also made it possible for me to see a special edition DVD of "Supergirl").

I first read about "Cemetery Man" (also known as "Dellamorte Dellamore") in one of the many cult/sci-fi/horror movie review books I have, and it really intrigued me. Alas, the video store selection at the time was not as diverse as I'd've liked, and (this was before Netflix) I didn't end up getting to check it out.

What's it about? Well, quoth the press release:

Directed by Michele Soavi, Cemetery Man stars Rupert Everett (My Best Friend's Wedding and the voice of Prince Charming in Shrek 2 ) as Francesco Dellamore, a cemetery caretaker who finds that his seemingly dead-end job has recently become a little harder. Along with his sidekick Gnaghi (Francois Hadji-Lazaro), Francesco spends his days interning corpses and his nights killing “returners” – those who have risen from their grave seven days after burial. Life changes for Francesco when he falls for a beautiful, mysterious widow (Anna Falchi). When fate intervenes, Francesco must choose between Love Eternal and the Living Dead…

I'm not a huge zombie fan, but this sounded pretty cool. It hits your favorite movie store shelf on June 13.

Well, that's great, Sparkman, you're probably saying, but are there any special features on the disc?

* Widescreen Presentation (1.66:1), enhanced for 16x9 TVs
* Dolby Digital 5.1 Surround Sound
* Death is Beautiful: The Making of Cemetery Man featuring all-new cast and crew interviews including director Michele Soavi, star Anna Falchi and more
* Michele Soavi Bio
* Trailers

It looks like a cool flick, and I'm looking forward to checking it out.

It's a bird, it's a plane, it's Mom

This Mother's Day, I made a shocking discovery about mothers. They're like superheroes. No capes or anything like that, but they have amazing powers and abilities that you don't realize until you start thinking about it.

Their hugs can soothe wounds both physical and mental (except maybe severed limbs, but they'll try).

They can alter the flow of time in a fashion that seems to defy the laws of physics, such as when you mention that you're supposed to bring cupcakes for the whole class that day, and you're supposed to leave for school in 5 minutes.

Their saliva is a powerful solvent applied by thumb that can remove dirt from just about any child's face.

They possess seemingly infinite patience, even when faced with children who chase the cat so relentlessly that it poops on the wall in the hallway.

Heightened senses that would put Daredevil to shame (they can tell if you roll your eyes at them, even when they're not looking at you).

I can't imagine anyone more grateful for moms than children, with the possible exception of Hallmark. And See's.

Happy Mother's Day, yo.

No, you're out of order!

A friend asked me a question the other day, and it got me thinking: In what order should the Star Wars movies be watched?

It's hard to decide, but I think I'd have to go for watching them in the order they were released. I know it defeats the point of numbering them Episodes 1-6, but bear with me.

Part of the reason, obviously, is that's how I saw them: 4-6, then 1-3.

But I think watching Eps. 1-3 first could diminish the enjoyment of watching 4-6. For starters, by the time you get to "Star Wars," you already know how Darth Vader became Darth Vader. He's not as mysterious.

Okay, if you haven't seen all the movies, you might want to stop here, lest I spoil them for you.

Part of the fun for me watching the original trilogy (OT) was that you got only bits and pieces of Vader's story. Obi-Wan tells Luke that Anakin Skywalker was killed by Darth Vader. That's what made that scene ("No, I am your father!) in "Empire" such a jaw-dropper. We talked about that at school forever. But if you've already seen the new trilogy (NT), you already know who Vader is.

Not only that, but then you're wondering why Vader doesn't sense who Luke is during the first movie.

Or why Obi-Wan says that Yoda trained him instead of Qui-Gonn Jinn.

I could go on, but you get the idea. I think you have to pick which trilogy you want to be your trilogy.

"Star Wars" brings you in the middle of action, where the Rebellion is trying to topple the Empire. "The Phantom Menace" begins with a breath-taking tax dispute.

I'm also not a big fan of the fake foreshadowing in the NT, especially lines like Obi-Wan's "Why do I get the feeling you'll be the death of me?" to Anakin.

I'm still not convinced George Lucas had the whole story planned out in his head they way everyone says he did. The general idea, sure, but not the details. Otherwise, why would Leia have kissed Luke twice (once in Star Wars, once in Empire) if George knew they were brother and sister? Ick.

If you want to watch the original trilogy old-school-like, the non-Special Edition Star Wars trilogy will be out on DVD in September, despite assurances that the Special Editions were the definitive version.

And then next year, the Super-Definitive entire Star Wars saga is supposed to be released as a box set, and who knows what versions will be in that monster?

And there's the 3-D version George is working on.

Maybe I should just save my bucks and wait till the immersive holographic version comes out.

As long as Greedo doesn't shoot first, I'll be happy.

Surely you chest

The season finale of "The Office" is on tonight, and I can't wait to watch it, and not (as some in my household have speculated) just for Jenna Fischer, who plays Pam. I love this show; it always makes me laugh out loud, no matter how crabby I am.

It even makes me laugh when it's not on. How?

Every now and then, I check the stats for the blog, seeing if the number of visitors has reached double digits, things like that. But my favorite part is seeing how people got here.

A search for "Wonder Twins" usually pops up every week, and fans of "Camp Cucamonga" are apparently not in short supply.

But last week, there was this: "jenna fischer chest."

I love how search engines work. For a day or two, this blog was the top result for that search. And no, it wasn't me making the search, pervs...

This is particularly funny given that the subject of chests had come up on the blog Jenna writes for TVGuide.com.

So to sum up (especially for those readers who are married to me), I don't know her -- even though she's on my MySpace friends list -- and I'm sorry to have disappointed whoever came here looking for something besides pop culture fluff.

An unexpected reaction

While at the grocery store the other day, my son Brody was sitting quietly in the cart until something caught his eye.

"Wow, look at that!" he said. Not loudly, mind you, but I could tell something had really gotten his attention.

I looked at where he was looking, expecting to see a display that featured a car or construction equipment (generally the only thing he notices these days).

Nope. No cars.

A blonde.

My son, the girl-watcher. And he's not even 3 yet.

Free Comic Book Day recap

Free Comic Book Day has come and gone once again, and this year, I had a good time. Not so much because of the free comic books, but every now and then I like getting the chance to be in my local comic book store for more than just a few minutes.

It was neat to see a wide range of people, young and old, male and female, clearly enjoying something they liked. I'm terribly shy, but there's something about being a comic book reader/collector that makes it easy to just fall into conversations with people you've never met.

I was also pleased to get a sketch from artist Ethen Beavers, who is a cool cat. He was very nice, giving advice to budding artists and just talking about what it's like being in the business, not to mention doing free sketches all day. Go check out some of his work here. He also signed my copy of Justice League Unlimited #18, the issue he drew that features one of the funniest characters from DC's Silver Age sci-fi comics, Space Cabby.

Another thing that I really thought was cool was hearing a group of young woman professing their love for the Marv Wolfman-era Teen Titans, which is still one of my favorite comics. It was the first series I tried to collect the whole run of. And I don't remember meeting too many girls who were into comics at the time.

I had more fun in a few hours here than I generally do at giant comic conventions. Whether that's attributable to my dislike of crowds or just that there's almost too much to do at a convention, I don't know.

If you want to see a little bit of what was going on, you should check out this little video piece we did for work. Yes, I was pressed into service in front of a camera. Face for radio, voice for print, if you know what I mean. My part is in the second half.

Marvel at my near-lifelike presence.

The King's Arms? Where's the King's Arms?

While rooting around YouTube, I found this outtake. I also have it on a blooper compilation videotape that I got when I was younger.

To this day, it still makes me laugh. Draw your own conclusions about my level of maturity (or lack thereof).

Note: This clip contains one mildly inappropriate word (that I utter roughly a kajillion times during the course of a day, without much provocation) so view at your own peril!

Rules of the game

It's 2:37 a.m. You bolt upright in bed, your heart pounding like a tympani in your chest. The air is cool on your sweaty skin.

It's just at the edge of your brain and it won't go away until you figure it out.

How do you play "Frere Jacques" on Merlin, the Electronic Wizard?

Luckily for you, all you have to do is hop on the computer and check out this nifty little part of the Hasbro Web site. It's a repository of rules and instructions for their games past and present. It's fun to rediscover games you aven't thought about in years.

They even have the instructions for the Super Powers: JLA Skyscraper Caper 3-D Board Game. I had this and brought it to school in sixth grade so my friends and I could play it at lunch. It was too big to carry home in my backpack, so I stashed it in my locker, figuring I could have my mom drive me back to school and pick it up.

I kept forgetting, and eventually came locker cleanup day. My last chance to get it out, and I totally blew it. Some lucky custodian got to keep it, I presume.

It was a crap game anyway.