New for Father's Day!

I promise there will be more content here soon. In the meantime, the Siftin' Store now offers the perfect gift for Father's Day. Buy early, buy often!

RIP, Charles Nelson Reilly

Tony winner. TV personality. Director. Acting coach. Game show icon. I grew up watching Charles Nelson Reilly on Match Game, so everything else I saw him in was in relation to that. This is certainly no slight against him; I still relate Marlon Brando to the first thing I saw him in -- Superman the Movie.

If you grew up watching TV in the 70s (and reruns in the early 80s), you couldn't help but see Charles Nelson Reilly. Don't believe me? Step into the YouTube Time Machine.

Bic Banana Ink Crayons



The School Riot on Match Game



The Ghost and Mrs. Muir



Here's a clip from the show that features a performance from Harry Nilsson:



Lidsville (wait for the end)



Here's Lucy



Call Her Mom (a '70s TV-movie)



More Match Game



$10,000 Pyramid (briefly)



Match Game revival



Here are some extra CNR-related clips:

Mystery Science Theater 3000



Saturday Night Live



There's a film, The Life of Reilly, is an adaptation of his one-man show, Save It For The Stage: The Life Of Reilly. Once I get a chance, I'm totally going to check that out.

But for now, if you need to hear that laugh again, pop in your headphones and go here. It's a loop, so you can get as much as you want or need.

Tell a friend

Alan Hamel used to do commercials for one of the local grocery stores, the now-defunct Alpha Beta. The tagline in every commercial was "Tell a friend."

So to 5- or 6-year-old me, he was the Alpha Beta "Tell a friend" guy. I didn't find out till later that he's married to Suzanne Somers.

While poking around on YouTube today (I've been finding a lot of good stuff lately, so I figured I'd look for more), I found an old Alpha Beta commercial from 1981, and sure enough, right at the end, BAM -- "Tell a friend."



A popular joke at recess in those days:

Did you hear Alan Hamel died? Tell a friend.

And if that happens someday, I'm ashamed to say, that's the first thing that will come to mind. Does that make me a bad person?

Alpha Beta had the cool-ass carts that had enough room so you could sit on the bottom, and there was the bank of machines near the front of the store that you had to use if you were going to pay by check. I guess it was like a preauthorization thing. My Google-fu couldn't turn up any pictures, alas.

I'm actually surprised the store name hasn't made a comeback. I'm thinking online grocery store with a little geek factor, plus retro nostalgia. The logo, I bet, would likely look something like this:

76 minutes on 50% power

Sometimes you want to rent a movie based just on the title alone. Hence today's movie, Microwave Massacre. Seriously, how can you miss with a title like that?

Well...

The movie in a nutshell: Donald is a henpecked schlub who accidentally develops a taste for human flesh.

The story: Donald (Jackie Vernon) is a construction worker who suffers at every meal because his wife, May, is interested in gourmet food, which she cooks with her enormous microwave oven from Major Electric.

Now let's take a quick look at this microwave. Here's the box:


And here's the gargantuan appliance that allegedly arrived in said box:


One day while eating a giant-crab sandwich, Donald's co-workers, Philip and Roosevelt, see Knothole Girl (yes, that's how she's billed in the credits). Knothole Girl's sole purpose in this movie is to "accidentally" push her chesticals through a hole that just so happens to be able to accommodate them both at the same time. Roosevelt almost reaches Knothole Girl, but she moves just before he gets there.

Meanwhile, back at Donald's house, May is back from the store, and she talks to the dog about how the new microwave is opening up a whole new area of cuisine.

Back on the site, Roosevelt is trying to tell Philip how to get into the groove. This is supposed to be funny because a white guy is trying to teach a black guy how to feel music. And the white guy is named Roosevelt.

All of this within the first five minutes, by the way.

Donald wants to trade his lunch, but the guys aren't going for it.

When Donald gets home, May is preparing another meal. He fantasizes about killing May. You know, the usual.

Dinner is a bunch of back and forth half-assed bickering. Donald asks why he can't just get normal food. May says the dog eats better than him; Donald agrees.

The next day at lunch, Donald eats a dog food sandwich, while Knothole Girl, in shorts riding up to about her sacroiliac, walks onto the construction site. She wants Roosevelt to introduce her to the big buffed guy, who -- hardy-frickin-har -- is gay.

Donald stops at a bar on the way home and is still drunk when he comes home to May. He slurs a request for a bologna and cheese sandwich. He goes on a slob rampage around the house -- spitting water in May's food, emptying the vacuum bag all over the living room and pissing on a potted plant in front of the fireplace, which prompts her to say, "Donald, there is something bothering you."

He goes to throw out May's food (to help her food go farther, yok-yok) and she dumps it on his head. He goes ape, chokes her and finishes her off with the pepper mill.

The next day, he's hung over ("Ooo, I don't remember leaving a wake-up headache...") and wonders where May is with his breakfast. He's hungry and checks the microwave for something to eat. He opens it up, and May is in there. He sets it on slow broil.

It's time for lunch at work, and nabs a Jumbo Jack out of the lunch van, which prompts Roosevelt and Philip to ask what his wife will think. He says he doesn't worry anymore.

Later, he decides to cut up May, wrap the pieces in foil and stick her in the freezer, while taking out the old stuff ("Gotta make room for May."). We get a closeup of him wrapping her hand. He puts it in the freezer, but doesn't see it fall in with the old food.

In a "comedy" bit, he watches a TV talk show about committing the perfect crime. The "comedy" comes from the swear words not being bleeped out properly. Sigh.

In the middle of the night, Donald goes to get a snack. Napoleon, the dog, is whining at the garage door, which bugs Donald.

"Napoleon, she had to call him. I'm gonna kick him in his Bonaparte."

He grabs one of the foil-wrapped goodies he took out of the freezer to make room for May. I think we know where this is going. He likes it and unwraps the rest of it -- OMGWTFBBQ! It's May's hand.

"May!" he says, while the wah-wah sting plays.

He brings some May to work with him the next day and shares some of his Maywich with his work pals, who both love it.

Later at home, we see Donald making a May-kebab.

Cut to the bar, where he is in a much better mood. A chick at the bar is making faces at him, probably prompted by the wakka-chicka music that erupts out of nowhere. Sam kicks her out, as she's, uh, looking for customers, if you know what I mean.

Outside the bar, her shoe breaks. Donald catches up with her and apologizes for how Sam treated her. Apparently she has a quota or is saving up for a new Atari or something, because she offers him a shot. Her name is DeeDeeDee (her mom wanted to name her Delia, but she stuttered).

Donald takes her back to his place, but he's reluctant to, uh, get his money's worth from DeeDeeDee, which frustrates her.

"That's it! You've been gonged, mister." There's a timely reference. She goes off to get something to eat, but that pisses off Donald. He takes her to the couch and smothers her both with himself and with a flower pillow.

He lays her out on the chopping block in the kitchen, where she both moves her hands and breathes, despite being dead. As he grabs an ax, he says the line of the movie.

"I'm so hungry, I could eat a whore."

Donald and his buddies go bowling and then harass a Jack in the Box clerk at the drive-through. And it's an old-school Jack in the Box, back in the days of giving your order via clown head.

"Hello! Anybody home?"

"May I have your order, please?"

"Uh, let down your hair, unbutton your blouse, hike up your skirt, stick out your tongue ... and a Coke!"

The hilarity ensues when we see them drive off, leaving the confused clerk at the window, having followed his order.

One of the running gags concerns Donald's oversexed neighbors. It's there to provide some flesh and no humor at all.

Donald has to make room in the freezer for DeeDeeDee, so he throws out some of May. Later, a homeless guy finds her arm in the trash and uses it as a scratcher. I'm ashamed to have been paying this much attention, but if he ate one of May's arms as his initial foray into cannibalism, and we saw him impaling one of her hands to make a May-kebab, how is there a hand and forearm to throw away? Unless it's from DeeDeeDee, but that wouldn't make sense following the last bit of dialogue.

Another unfunny bit at a hardware store leads us to Donald's next kill. Okay, it doesn't actually lead to it, but it is the scene that comes right before it, which in this movie, is what passes for a narrative. The victim is naked on a giant piece of bread, and he's slathering her with mayonnaise from a tub of Best Foods (I'm sure they were just ticked pink for that bit of product placement).

He meets his next victim while out for a walk. She's in a crap chicken costume shilling for a restaurant. He invites her over for dinner. The last we see of her is a detached foot that looks like it came from a giant.

Later, Donald is spilling his guts out to a shrink, who is asleep. His problem is that he can't get it on with a woman unless he plans to kill her and eat her afterward, which is sick even ignoring the whole killing and eating part, unless he cleans her first. The doctor wakes up and misunderstands Donald's reference to eating, which I think was supposed to be another joke.

While cooking up his latest b(i)atch of food in the microwave, he seems to have a heart attack or something. I guess it wasn't serious, because he goes out to the garage later to fill up the freezer. May's head keeps appearing and disappearing. He finds it in the house and is holding it behind his back when there's a knock on the door. It's May's sister.

He props up the head on a pillow to convince May's sister that she's just sleeping, but she gets closer and sees it's just a head. Donald stuffs a baguette in her mouth and thinks he's killed her, which worries him, because that would mean he'd have to do it with her.

Time for a checkup with Dr. Von Der Fool (oh sweet God, when will it end?), who tells him that all the tests are okay; Donald's pacemaker is still working just fine. A nurse brings in the results, which I thought he'd just said were fine, but whatever.

We see a truck from "Bwana Meats: Let Us Cater Your Next Pagan Ritual" and Donald getting his coat out of the closet, ignoring May's sister. Don't know what they have to do with each other, but that's the sequence in which they fall.

There's another neighbor bit, and this time she's watering her lawn in such a fashion that it looks sorta like she's taking a leak.

In short order, Donald picks up another girl, kills her, cuts her up, etc.

In the next scene, Donald's neighbor is digging holes in her flower bed with a vibrator. Yeah, your guess is as good as mine.

Another victim, another yawn. He's in charge of party snacks. His pals arrive, only to find Donald on the floor in the kitchen. They see the body parts in the microwave -- and the sticker that says "Caution! This microwave may affect pacemakers."

A while later, the house is up for sale. Movers are taking out furniture, May's sister is finally found in the closet. Two guys in the kitchen are checking out the microwave, and in case we missed the clue with the sticker, we hear that someone screwed up the wiring in the microwave, and that it's a deathtrap for anyone with a pacemaker.

With that, the camera goes into the garage, and the freezer door opens, revealing May's head, which for some reason is back on the top shelf. Oh yeah, and her eyes start to glow. Spooooky.

And that's 76 minutes of your life you aren't getting back.

Afterthoughts: Let's talk about disappointment. Though billed on the DVD as "The Worst Horror Movie of All Time," it isn't. Not in a world where there exists "Blood Freak."

Don't get me wrong; it's not a great horror movie by any stretch of the imagination, but it's not the worst because I refuse to believe it was supposed to be a straight horror movie. Instead, it was the always-difficult-to-pull-off horror movie spoof. But instead of spoofing the classic movie monsters, now it was time to make fun of gory horror movies and psycho-nut killers.

Before the "Scary Movie" franchise, before "Scream" (while not a spoof, it was definitely riffing on horror flick conventions) or the proto-"Scream," "There's Nothing Out There," there was "Microwave Massacre."

Though released in 1983, presumably for the big home video boom, I've seen a few references to it being filmed in 1979, which makes a lot more sense -- both in terms of the fashions and the fact that it took four years for this to show up somewhere.

This wasn't the first horror movie spoof I'd seen. That honor goes to Paramount's "Student Bodies," which came out in 1981. I haven't seen it in decades, but there are two things I will always remember about it. During one scene, someone leaves the door unlocked, and in case we missed it, an arrow flashes "Unlocked." That made me chuckle a bit. And when someone goes to answer the door, instead of a killer or a regular person there, it's just a dog, who farts.

Dog farts = comedy gold.

But back to "Microwave Massacre." Despite the title, there really isn't a microwave massacre. When you see that title on a box (back in its VHS days, it wasn't going for the camp angle on the packaging), you expect some creative carnage. I mean, you already had "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre," "Driller Killer" and "Love Story." The idea of someone doing a little wholesale slaughter with a microwave, man, sign me up.

The biggest problem with a horror spoof is keeping it scary and funny. But here, scenes begin and end without really having any sense of continuity. At times, it's so disjointed that it's almost like channel surfing. There's not really much in the way of transition.

I like oranges.

It's just like that.

Still, it's kinda fun anyway. Jackie Vernon is deadpan all the way through, and given the material, it's probably for the best. It's even more fun if you close your eyes and imagine him as Frosty the Snowman saying all his dialogue.

This is yet another movie that's best watched with friends. It's barely over an hour long, though it seems a lot longer in parts.

How Manilow can you go?

Wow, I'm on a roll lately (that's why there's butter on my pants) finding nuggets of pop culture detritus on YouTube. Having finally found the "Who Broke My Window" PSA, I tried to think of other things I had yet to find.

And for some reason, I thought of a bit from a Barry Manilow concert where he talked about commercial jingles. I mentioned this here back in 2005. Long story short, there was a rejected jingle that he came up with for Hoover vacuum cleaners.

So I looked up "manilow jingles." Lo and behold:



Much to my amazement, despite having not heard this in 25 years or so, I had all the lyrics more or less right except for one line. Should you want to perform it with your a cappella group (such as Here Comes Treble), here are the lyrics:

When that jar of peanut butter

Goes crashing to the floor

And it gets smooshed into the carpet

By the brat who lives next door

Don't you reach for the broom and dustpan

Or that old Electrolux

For dirty, filthy, grimy jobs

Hoover ... really ... sucks.

One other thing I noticed about this is that as a kid, the joke about the douche jingle went totally over my head. "...it's disposable..." I don't know how that happened. I clearly had to have known what a douche was -- my brother was already born by that time.

Badoomboom.

Raise your hand if this surprises you in the least

TV Jingle Quiz



Score: 100% (16 out of 16)

(via YesButNoButYes)

At long last...

I have roughly 3 anjillion tapes of old TV commercials from the 50s through the late 80s. That includes just about any compilations you've seen at the store, and darn near most of the offerings you might find on eBay. There are actually a few that I always get outbid on, but I'm sure I'll nab them eventually. How else will I have a commercial for the "Sgt. Pepper" movie with Peter Frampton and the Bee Gees?

I could watch nothing but commercials for at least an entire weekend without repeating a tape or disc.

Why do I have so many? Honest to God, I can't give a good reason other than that they interest me. The older ones, pre-me, are fascinating in how things were marketed. The ones from my childhood are interesting because I remember jonesing for those toys and snacks.

Out of the thousands of commercials in my collection, there is one (aside from the "Pepper" spot) that has eluded me thus far: the famous "Who Broke My Window" PSA produced for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Despite not having seen it since its heyday, I can still sing the whole thing -- stone sober, mind you.

My exploring on YouTube and other video sites were likewise bereft of satisfying the itch. It's not even that I like the thing so much, though I kinda do.

I haven't been able to get it out of my head. Part of collecting all this stuff (and writing about it) is a kind of exorcism of sorts. If it's on tape or written down, I don't have to keep it stored in my head.

Well, about five minutes ago, I made my weekly check, and holy cow, it was there.

So here it is (as long as it stays up on YouTube -- your mileage may vary):

Cheez-It! The cops!

Superman fights for truth, justice and the American way. His nemesis is Lex Luthor, an evil genius who wants nothing more than to break the Man of Steel.

I fight for peace at lunchtime. My nemesis is an evil genius who apparently wants nothing more than to defy me at every turn and make what little hair I have left go gray.

My 4-year-old, Brody.

Seriously, not a day goes by that there's not some kind of headbutting over who is going to eat what and when. If it were up to Brody, he would live on chocolate milk and Cheez-Its.

On one hand, he doesn't eat much in the way of sweets; he refuses all candy, the only cookies he'll eat are chocolate-chip and he won't try any ice cream or cake. That's not so bad.

But on the other, he won't try fruit, vegetables, any meat that is not a chicken nugget or anything even slightly nutritious.

And it's hard to get him any vitamins, because the usual trick to make kids take their vitamins -- make them more like candy -- doesn't work with him. Our pediatrician suggested Carnation Instant Breakfast, as it's considerably cheaper than Pediasure and other supplements.

So at least that way, he's getting some kind of nutrition, but I still feel like the worst dad ever.

I've read in scores of magazines and books that it takes a bunch of tries before a kid will eat a new food. Having tried that, I can say with confidence that they are full of crap.

The few times I've been able to even get something in his mouth to taste it is when in the course of wrestling with him, part of it accidentally got into his mouth. He puts up a big fuss with many tears, and then is like, "Hey, this tastes kinda good."

We've been able to expand his menu to a whopping four or five different options, none of which I consider winners. But the books also say the main goal is that they eat something.

I've actually made a breakthrough in that now he will say that he's hungry. Yes, I'm expecting that big parenting award any day now.

Of course, he'll say that he's hungry, but he won't tell me what he wants.

Baby steps, I guess.

The other day, he decided that even though he ate his peanut butter sandwich, he wanted something else. I'm trying to encourage him when he actually deigns to eat like we mortals, so I asked him what he wanted.

"..."

"Brody, you need to tell me what you want."

"I want something else."

"I gathered that, sport. What 'something else' do you want?"

He said nothing, but inched ever closer to the pantry. Now I knew exactly what he wanted. Cheez-Its.

How did I know? He was conscious.

"I want something else..." Great. Now he's in full-on whining mode. From this point, he'll just repeat the same thing, each time increasing in pitch. If I let him whine long enough, it's only a problem for any dogs in the neighborhood.

Wanting to keep him from going nuclear, I open the pantry door.

"Okay, pal. What do you want?"

"Up on the six."

"What?"

"Up on the six."

Every now and then, Brody says something that he thinks makes perfect sense. I assumed this was one of those times until I looked at the pantry, starting at the bottom. Son of a...

Sure enough, the Cheez-Its are on the sixth shelf in the pantry.

Well, score one for him.

Everybody all around the world, gotta tell you what I just heard

My darling wife alerted me to this, and I have to say, I'm torn. I'd say a Broadway musical based on a crappy movie is just a bad idea, but then there was "Little Shop of Horrors."

Yeah, I know it was off-Broadway, but they had a Broadway revival a few years ago, so let's just go with the analogy.

But Xanadu?

Really?

Maybe, yeah. I always dug the music, and let's be honest, half of that movie was practically a stage musical to begin with. If it ever came around my neck of the woods, I think I'd be obligated to see it.

Had I visited The Xanadu Preservation Society recently, I'd have known about this already.

And you heard it here first: If this show bombs, you know they're going to use the lyric "A place where nobody dared to go."

Just like if the next Hulk movie doesn't tank, you're going to see a bunch of "'Hulk' smash!"

I'm not claiming that either is terribly clever, but I know copy editors and their headline-writing habits.

You say it's your Earth Day...it's my Earth Day too, yeah

Ah, Earth Day once again.

I've been up to my myopic eyeballs in other non-Siftin' stuff, so I haven't had as much time to devote to the ol' blog. Apologies to the three of you out there.

In honor of Earth Day, I'm continuing the tradition I began last year of recycling some posts you might have missed or were just so good you should read them over and over, commit them to memory and perhaps tattoo them on the body part of your choice (don't forget to send the pictures...)

This year's crop:

A commercial for Ball Buster, the best game commercial ever.

A look at one of my favorite cookbooks

Some thoughts about sports mascots

More Wonder Twins madness

Some dumb things I have done

and if you're really into the whole recycling thing, here's last year's Earth Day entry.

You organic product aficianados can get your official organic cotton Siftin' T-shirt here.

Watch Horror Movies...Keep America Strong!

Today is Bob Wilkins' birthday. For years, he hosted "Creature Features," a showcase for bad movies, before turning the reins over to John Stanley in 1979.

On "Creature Features," not only could you discover great bad movies in the days before everyone had a VCR, but he also interviewed many important figures in science fiction and horror.

Despite being just a bit past my fourth birthday when Bob stopped hosting the show, I still have memories of watching on the rare occasions that I stayed up really late. To be honest, I'm not sure exactly how this worked, as my parents weren't in the habit of letting me stay up till all hours of the night. I can only presume that they were watching it and I came out to ask for a glass of water or something.

I met Bob (and John Stanley) at WonderCon a few years back. I told them that they were responsible for my addiction to bad movies. I added that I didn't know if I should thank them or blame them.

And one year that I couldn't go, I had my brother pick up the Best of Bob Wilkins tapes, which are now available on DVD, and I highly recommend them.

I wasn't able to attend the two tribute shows thrown last month (and hosted by Mr. Lobo) to benefit Alzheimer's research (curse my work schedule), but it looks like they were a lot of fun.

Here are two YouTube clips that show you a bit of what's on the DVD.




Here's a picture one of my friends snapped at WonderCon the first time I saw Bob. I kept grousing that I wished I could've gotten my picture taken with him, but I didn't want to hassle him, because I'm really shy.

Outside for a quick break, my friend told me to look at the camera. He took a quick shot while Bob was walking by, so I got my picture. A bit chicken on my part, I admit, but now I'm glad I've got this picture.

Happy birthday, Bob!

I hope those are Raisinets in my Easter basket...

It's Easter, and lo and behold, I found Cadbury Creme Eggs in my Easter basket.



BJ Novak (Ryan on The Office) sheds light on a serious matter.



You know about watching The Wizard of Oz while listening to Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon, but what happens when you eat Marshmallow Peeps while you listen to The Wall?



or while watching Star Wars?



Now this looks like a lot of fun. Reminds me of riding down the giant hill in my cousin's back yard to fly off a ramp and realize that we should have been wearing "nard guards."



The Easter Bunny always seemed like a nice guy, but now I dunno...



This is for Brody...



Happy Easter, yo.

I'd buy it

I come up with many ideas for items to add to my Cafe Press store that sadly, I can't use because of their policies. Not a dig against them; otherwise there'd be tons of bootleg T-shirts and stuff.

But if anyone is ever promoting a children's literature program or something, I've got the perfect T-shirt slogan:

What would Beezus do?

More stuff

Just added a new widget to the sidebar that pulls videos from YouTube and Google Video. Right now, it's using the keywords for 80s commercials and 70s commercials. I may change it from time to time.

Give it a shot -- it looks kinda neat.

They know what they're talking aboot.

I've mentioned before that my brother and I used to watch "The Edison Twins" on the Disney Channel back in the days where in addition to sweet Canadian programming, you could actually watch, you know, Disney cartoons.

Poking around on YouTube, I found a shot-for-shot remake of the opening credits. They also had a picture-in-picture version, in which you can see how exactly they replicated it.

Awesome all around. Check it out.

Hey, Alanis ...

No, this isn't the introduction to the Opposites.

Apply directly to the ...

OK, I think we've all suffered and seen the commercial for HeadOn.

"HeadOn -- apply directly to the forehead. HeadOn -- apply directly to the forehead. HeadOn -- apply directly to the forehead."

They even know that the commercial is annoying; they try to make fun of how annoying it is. No dice. Even more annoying.

These days, they've got ActiveOn, which is a pain reliever of sorts (I think), and FirstOn, an itch ointment. Clearly they are trying to branch out and expand their offerings.

So that got me to wondering where exactly they're going to go next.

Then it hit me: herbal male enhancement pills -- that's the big thing these days, right?

But what could they call it?

Hmm...

Okay, I'm bound to think of something. Just give me a few minutes...

Wild about Harry

I'm wearing my Chewbacca T-shirt in honor of my son, Harry, who would have turned 2 today.

Chances are you never got to meet him; we barely did ourselves. But I admired both his tendency to get hungry exactly a half-hour before it was time to eat and his luxurious mane of hair.

Really. He didn't have just a good amount of hair; he had a mop of Charles Ingallsian proportions.

I still think about him every day, and every now and then I wonder if he's messing with me, whether it's a butterfly dive-bombing me just as I walk out the door or the number on my McDonald's receipt being his birthday.

I'll get back to the off-color jokes and pop-culture memories later. Until then, raise a glass, mug or paper-bag-wrapped bottle (depending how your day is going) and toast my favorite Wookiee.

Apparently not.

I have two things to say about Fox's game show, "Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader?"

1. I learned of it during a commercial break from a NASCAR race (Brody likes to watch for the first 10 minutes or so). Draw your own conclusions about what Fox thinks of NASCAR fans. I bet they didn't advertise on the National Geographic channel.

2. Fifth-grader should be hyphenated.

The fever for the flavor

Did she just say "Once you taste the fluffer?" Discuss.