The "Very Special" Episode

Image via NY Post PopWrap Blog

Tonight, on a Very Special Episode of Children of the 90s: watch as our heroes combat drinking/smoking/drugs/racism/domestic abuse/eating disorders/gang violence/poverty/suicide/disease/prejudice/homophobia. Stay tuned, as this is not one you'll want to miss!

The Very Special Episode was spurned in the 70s, when the airwaves were teeming with family sitcoms just aching to impart morality and wisdom onto the eager viewing masses. With time, the Very Specialness of it all had been toned down considerably; the 80s boasted its fair share of preachy sitcom episodes, but for a few minutes in the late 80s it appeared as if the trend were preparing to taper off gracefully.

Lucky for all of you children of the 90s, television executives reconstructed and revived the Very Special Episode into a veritable art form. With the advent of countless interchangeable family sitcoms aimed at considerably younger viewers, the 90s boasted a roster of series for whom the Very Special Episode was nearly synonymous with the sehow itself. Let's take a morally conscious stroll down memory lane and examine some of the 90s most Special moments that shaped our childhoods and warped our perceptions for years to come:

Blossom (1991-1995)

Blossom was the real innovator in 1990s Very Specialness. Indeed, it was the good people at NBC who took great liberties in introducing an inordinate number of Blossom episodes with the oft-mocked phrase, "Tonight, on a Very Special Episode of Blossom..."

The show's breadth of very special episodes ran the gamut from drinking to divorce. It truly seemed as if every episode of the show was in some way Very Special; the series had no qualms about shoving allegedly acute moral lessons down the throats of its impressionable young viewers, albeit often with humorous undertones. Observe, a lighthearted reprimand from Six's mother following an incident of stealing:





Saved By the Bell (1989-1993)

Saved by the Bell was unabashed in its portrayal of faultless, morally rigid teenagers masquerading as carefree characters. Saved by the Bell spared us no issue, undertaking parental unemployment, feminism, fake IDs, drunk driving, and drug use in a scant 4 seasons. While often the drama of the purported misconduct took place outside the nuclear group of major characters, a few episodes did choose to sully our heroes' good names with some good old fashioned cheesy 90s transgressions.

While the drinking and driving episode certainly has its moments (particularly as they manage to crash Lisa's mother's car after a mere sip of beer), the most memorable episode was none other than the infamous Jessie Spano caffeine pill freak-out:



"I'm so excited! I'm so excited! I'm so (choke/gasp) scared!" And to think the movie Showgirls couldn't manage to coast along on Elizabeth Berkley's master thespianism alopne. I'm not sure if you have ever had any run-ins with caffeine pills, but unless you're on the serious overdose track they tend to be fairly benign. They might as well have had Jessie sobbing over her skinny soy latte from Starbucks.



The Fresh Prince of Bel Air (1990-1996)

The Fresh Prince of Bel Air was not without its fair share of issue tackling. Like any good sitcom featuring adolescent main characters, there were many of the requisite coming-of-age themes (such as the episode in which Will likes a plus-size girl). The show also occasionally skimmed the surface of topical issues featuring episodes about interracial marriage, race riots, and gun violence in an episode where Will is shot in an armed robbery.

Two of the most Very Special are an episode where Carlton mistakenly takes amphetamines from Will's locker and is subsequently hospitalized and an episode where Will's absentee father returns with empty promises. I did not compile the following into a video, but its existence on YouTube certainly is convenient to my chronicling its Very Specialness.





Full House (1987-1995)

If nothing else, Full House is truly a Very Special show. Rarely did more than an episode or two pass in a season without confronting some sort of wholly unsubtle moral dilemma. The perfect and sanctimonious children of Full House may not have been prone to many discretions themselves, but they were certainly good at pointing out other people's faulty behavior.

The quintessential example of this is undoubtedly the episode in which Uncle Jesse wrongly accuses DJ of drinking beer at a school dance. Of course, our fair DJ would never engage in such raucous and unbecoming behavior, particularly not while wearing that Hilary Clinton circa 1995 pantsuit. DJ's wardrobe and rockin' mullet aside, she is the epitome of innocence shocked when she exclaims, "You're drinking BEER!" I especially like when the supposedly rebellious beer-drinking 12-year old proclaims her to be "so uncool!" It seems our friends over at ABC lifted this script directly from a DARE in-class video presentation.








90210 (1990-2000)

90210 was teen soap operary at its finest, and certainly featured a hefty dosage of Very Special Episodes. One of the most memorable was the season five finale in which Donna's abusive boyfriend Ray pushes her down the stairs. This would be an admirable leap into real-issue territory if the scene hadn't been quite so hokey. Tori Spelling's verbal acting aside, it's possible her physical work could use some work. I know it's in poor taste, but watching this clip potentially suggests she'd be well suited for some sort of highly-physical comedic work:



The drama! The drama! It is, of course, a very serious issue and it makes you wish they could have pulled it off a little better in the execution. Oh well, I guess it's either you hire your daughter or you hire a credible actress, and you just can't have it both ways.



Unfortunately, I just can't fit all of your favorites into a single post. I can, however, make a totally cop-out move by simply listing my runners up without actually describing them in any great detail. Hence, here we have some formidable honorable mentions:

Dinosaurs: Robbie encounters peer pressure to smoke weed
90210: Dylan's alcoholism
Family Matters: Laura gets beat up by a gang for wearing a certain jacket, racist graffiti at school
Boy Meets World: Shawn's drinking problem
Every episode of 7th Heaven and Dawson's Creek

Thank you for tuning in to this Very Special Episode of Children of the 90s! Join us next time when Children of the 90s confronts peer pressure/promotes Black History Month/feeds the homeless/administers STD testing/get juvenile diabetes.

Bubble Tape

I don't know about you, but I prefer for my bubble gum supply to measure in feet. Sticks are for lightweights. Everyone knows that the true test of childhood victory is the ability to fit the maximum allowable denomination of chewing gum into your mouth and to successfully masticate without asphyxiating. But packages of gum are so difficult to unwrap, not to mention all that unsightly tinfoil waste. Sure, it can be fun for awhile to peel off the foil and stick it on your school notebooks, but what are you left with after that? I demand more from my gum.

Luckily, my concern did not go unaddressed. The Wrigley corporation not only recognized this gum supply issue, but also chose to capitalize it with a hefty marketing campaign directed as gum-crazed children. They recognized that kids prefer novelty products to everyday fare and went about tailoring a product to meet this need. They sat around the boardroom wondering, "Now how can we make a completely useless product for which we can utilize cold, calculated marketing strategies to convince children that they thought of it in the first place?"

The major thrust of many advertising campaigns directed at children in the 90s focused on the illustrious nature of adult disapproval. In some crazy existential marketing bubble, it was completely justifiable for a group of grown-ups to labor over advertising that outright villianized adults. Somehow, they managed to convince us as children that this was all some crazy idea that we had come up with. Never mind that the concept, promotion, production, and distribution of the product was completely controlled by adults. This was of little matter to the Wrigley people. The real bottom line was that children believed that this product in some way represented their lifestyle and needs while being generally repugnant to authority figures.

Adults likely frowned on Bubble Tape with good reason. A few sticks of gum to satiate a sugar-demanding child is one thing, but a full six feet of bubble gum is probably overkill. "Oh, you wanted some gum? Well, how about twice your height's worth? Now stick it in your mouth all at once and try your best not to die. Doesn't that sound fun?"

Bubble Tape was aptly named for its scotch tape-like dispenser. Who says office supplies can't be inspiration for food products? Alright, I've been known to say that from time to time, but can you blame me? It's pretty outrageous. This packaging allowed for easy access to a maximal amount of chewing gum, even possessing the capability to discard the dispenser entirely in favor of sticking the whole roll directly in your mouth.


Sometimes as an adult, when I try to eat a particularly unwieldy large piece of sushi in a single bite, I am eerily transported back to the chew-or-die memory of attempting to ingest a full six feet of Bubble Tape. The trauma has faded, but the awareness lurks just beneath the surface. My mother had told me (incorrectly, I should note) that swallowed gum would stick to my appendix, and I thus worried for years needlessly about my inexorable pending appendectomy. I can only begin to imagine what the fictitious surgeons would say. Come along, if you will, on a journey into my Bubble Tape-induced nightmare:

Surgeon One: Holy cow, Bill get a load of this!
Surgeon Two: Geez, what is that? A pancreas? Actually, on second glance it looks a little spleenish. Shouldn't we leave this in?
Surgeon One: Well, actually, I think it's...gum. Chewing gum. Enormous six-foot squared chunks of it.
Suregon Two: Gosh, Tim, she probably should have listened to her mother when she made up that ludicrous lie, then she easily could have avoided this imaginary appendectomy.

But why the urge to stuff all this gum into our mouths and masticate our way into all sorts of improbably dangerous medical scenarios? In all likelihood the commercials egged us on just a bit:



Ah, yes. For you, not them. Touche, ad execs. Touche.

You have to appreciate their understanding of the literal-mindedness of children through the illustration of 6 feet as actual human feet. On the whole, this advertisement makes very little sense. I accept that children-directed marketing doesn't necessarily have to make sense, but this truly is on the side of the extreme. Essentially, here's a random cluster of facts about our unsightly underoo-ironing gym teacher and equally unattractive ice cream-scooping mashed potatoes cafeteria lady. Sure, we understand that these are unsavory characters with undesirable behavioral attributes., but is their lack of endorsement really enough to prompt children to flood grocery stores en mass in search of lengthy chewing gum?

Apparently it was. There was some underlying childlike joy to be taken from the whole "For you, not them" concept. An adult requested a piece and you could flippantly say, "But, mother, haven't you seen the commercials? This gum is not intended for grown-ups. This is a product entirely intended for me." Of course, I'm sure our parents just loved these tidbits of commercial-learned wisdom. In fact, I suspect it was exactly this type of behavior that prompted my mother to concoct the gum-to-appendix lie in the first place: to regain control of the bubble gum situation by unfair use of fearmongering.

The real trouble arises now, as the "you" in these commercials are now all grown up. Actually, it's possible some of you are out their ironing your underwear right now. Do we still reserve this ad-given right to deny others the sweet six feet of confectionery goodness? Obviously this "for you, not them" argument was built on faulty logic; like it not, now we're them.

Regardless of this hole in the Bubble Tape reasoning, I say embrace your inner child. Go out there and buy spools of gum by the foot and remember a time in your life when this 99 cent piece of plastic meant the world to you. Just don't say I didn't warn you about the risk of imaginary appendectomies.

Furby

Technology can be useful in mainly outlets. Growing technology has enabled us to add efficiency to production, precision to medical procedures, and expedite worldwide communications.

It can also make Furbies.

Popular science fiction books and movies would lead us to believe that robots are up to no good, and we've yet to see evidence to the contrary. I'm always nervously eying my Roomba vacuum, convinced it has a vendetta against me for accidentally feeding it so many carpet-based bobby pins. Sure, we've seen are a few kindly fictional robots in the mix (a la Rosie from the Jetsons), but generally we're taught that these robots want nothing more than to overtake us and render us terrified and useless.

Under close examination of a Furby, you'll likely find this scenario morphing into a frightening--though admittedly adorable--reality.

Declared the hottest toy of 1998 season, I was probably past the target age for these fluffballs but I was fascinated by their existence nonetheless. Here I was, thinking we were years off from the technology for a fully interactive robot buddy and suddenly, it shows up on toy store shelves speaking Furbish. Parents actually engaged in physical combat to secure Furbies for their loved ones, if that gives you any idea to just how desirable an in-house interactive robot was. It seemed that children everywhere wanted one, but no one had a clue what exactly these things did.

The lifeblood of a Furby is in a computer chip embedded in its fuzzy amorphous form, and it had several relatively clever functions. The thing itself was pretty unnerving. It was cheek-breakingly cheerful and alarmingly reactive to the world around it. Never before had a toy been equipped with the technology to hear, speak, move, and most notably learn. Meanwhile, I was out there accidentally starving Happy Meal Tamagotchis left and right, and felt generally ill-equipped to deal with such a needy toy.

In the Furby Care Guide, the Furbster himself is introduced as follows:

Hey! I’m FURBY! The more you play with me, the more I do!
I love to play and can tell you jokes, play a game, sing and even dance!
Bring me home today and I’ll be your best friend!

I don't know about you, but to me that sounds horribly, terribly, wince-inducingly frightening. That whole "Bring me home today and I'll be your best friend!" part is probably the creepiest thing I could imagine a toy saying to me. The whole thing reeked of Gremlins, and I knew I couldn't be trusted with one for fear of banishing it to a microwave-explosion fated doom.

Furby v. Gremlin

In general, the idea of having any sort of playmate with an on/off switch is a bit disconcerting. There was a sort of dichotomy behind those big, bulgy doe-eyes; in one sense, the things seemed cute and cuddly, but I had visions of it summoning legions of its Furby friends and storming my house, Bastille style.

They were, after all, oddly lifelike for something so foreign-looking. It had touch and auditory censors, enabling it to react to your tickling and verbal commands. The Care Guide claims that Furbies will pick up language in a manner similar to a human child, but in reality it was only capable of absorbing English. The Guide explains:

About My Personality
I speak Furbish®, a magical language common to all FURBY creatures. When we first meet, this is what I’ll be speaking. To help you understand what I’m saying, please use the Furbish® - English dictionary found in the back of this book. I can learn how to speak English by listening to you talk. The more you play with me, the more I will use your language.

I'm sorry, but if that's not one of the scariest things you've ever heard from a toy, then you obviously have suffered some serious childhood toy-related trauma. The instructions with this thing were so comprehensive, you sort of have to wonder how any children managed to play with them at all.

In case you were hoping to brush up on your Furbish, here's a handy little Furbish-to-English guide from the Furby Care manual:

If FURBY asks you a question, say either:
Yes [ee-tay]
Ok [oh-kay]
Yes, please [ee-tay-doo-moh]
No [boo]
No, thank you [boo-doo-moh]
No way [dah-boo]
I don’t understand*
* If you couldn’t understand what I said, I’ll repeat what I last said to you. I may say it a little bit differently, with more English, so that you can understand it better. If you tell me “I don’t understand” too many times, I’ll get sad and frustrated. Sometimes it’s best to be polite and pretend you understand – at least until I learn more of your language!

That last tip is probably the most frightening. What exactly happens when my pal Furb gets sad and frustrated? Again, visions of Gremlin-style debauchery are flooding my mindwaves. That's a pretty vague threat there, Furbs. What are you planning to do if I can't adhere to your standard of politeness? And, more aptly, do I really want my child's toy to become angry and disenchanted with my kid? That seems pretty cruel, considering it's supposed to be the other way around.

The thing also came with pages upon pages of clear, unwavable instructions on how to interact with your fluffy friend. For example:

How to ask "How are You?"
Say “Hey FURBY!” [Pause until you hear FURBY say “Doo?” “Yeah?” “Huh?” “What?” or “Hmm?”]
Then say, “How are you?”
I’ll tell you how I’m feeling.
Make sure you say “HEY FURBY! I love you!” frequently so that I feel happy and know I’m loved.

Geez, this thing is needy. Don't worry, though, there is refuge. Say you accidentally raise this thing to be super irritating, even more than usual. Well, have no fear, it's resettable:

If you would like to teach FURBY English all over again,
you can erase the current memory by doing a reset.
1. Hold FURBY upside down.
2. With the ON/OFF switch in the “OFF” position, depress
and hold the mouth sensor using your finger.
3. While holding the mouth sensor, switch the ON/OFF
switch to “ON.”
4. FURBY will say “Good Morning!” to confirm the memory
has been reset.

Now there's a good lesson for kids: if you don't like something, just hold it uside down and cover its air supply till it complies. Cute.

Of course, the marketers behind these knew how to make sure your kid wouldn't be satisfied with just one Furby. No, it was necessary to shell out the big bucks to buy it a friend. The manual explains:

FURBY Creatures Can Talk To Each Other! Here’s How!
If you want your FURBY to talk to another FURBY in Furbish®, just have them hug each other! Keep their tummies pressed together until their
eyes blink and they start speaking to each other. Once they begin speaking,you can separate them – but they should remain no further than 3 inches apart, facing each other. Keep your handy Furbish®-English dictionary close by to figure out what they’re saying!

It's uncanny the way this thing can seemingly read my nightmares. THIS. SOUNDS. TERRIFYING. Sure, your Furby can be social, just smush it into another Furby, watch its eyes blink in a vacanteerie manner, and they will soon begin plotting against you. What fun!

In 2000, Furby babies were released. Watch them interact and just tell me those things are not demonic.

If this isn't enough to freeze your blood in your veins, don't worry, there's more. I'm not just talking about the newer, more reactive incarnations, either. No, scientists have recently discovered real live Furbies nestled on an Indonesian island. All I can say to these scientists is, don't even think about pressing two of these babies together...one blink and we're all goners.


Check it out:
"Furby Fever" at The Onion
Full Furby Care Guide (source of above quotes)