Yak Bak and Talkboy

It's amazing to think we could have once derived hours of entertainment from a simple recording device. Nowadays I'm lucky if the television and computer can briefly captivate me with their collective charms. One means of technology is no longer enough. We've become so accustomed to complete technological inundation that it's tough to recall a time when we could still get worked up about a basic electronic function. Back in our as-of-yet-un-embittered days of innocent youth, though, a tape recorder was more than enough to pique our collective interest.


I'm equally amazed that the toy marketplace made room for not one but two major brands of basic tape portable kid's tape recorders. We were apparently once so desperate to record and play back soundbites from our everyday lives that we required an array of different features and options. Their functions remained pretty simple, though, particularly in contrast to today's crazily complex contraptions for kids. We didn't know about iPhones. We just wanted our Yak Baks.

The two toys served generally similar functions, but they did each have their unique appeal. Let's delve into the exciting world of 1990s voice recorder technology, shall we?



The Talkboy


The Talkboy actually originated as a fictional toy, costarring with Macaulay Culkin in Home Alone 2: Lost in New York. As the film title implies, Kevin is indeed lost in New York. He uses his then-prop Talkboy toy to record his voice and slow its speed to a crawl to change the pitch. Apparently it makes him sound adult enough to check into a hotel or something.


Either way, fans went nuts for the Talkboy. The fact that it didn't exist wasn't enough of a deterrent to curb the incessant demand for Talkboy ownership. Fans wrote letters begging for a full-scale release of the toy. Tiger Electronics was up for the challenge and churned out a real working handheld version of the once-fake toy.

Demand for these was massive. Stores couldn't keep them stocked. The film tie-in must have accounted for most of the hype, considering the Talkboy's functions were pretty limited. It was a standard handheld tape recording device with a little moveable microphone. Like the Home Alone version, it featured a speed change scale, allowing one to either sound like Alvin, Simon, or Theodore or what I imagine to be the voice of a dying robot. Behold, the glorious and much overplayed TV ad:




Oh, how I yearned for one of these bad boys. The sheer potential for mischief was a major selling point. The second that kid in that commercial changed his voice to a slow low-pitch and played his "Hi kids, we're home early!" recording, I was sold. I mean, how hilarious is that? His sister was going to make out with that guy, and then Talkboy intervenes and messes up her otherwise well-orchestrated date night. What a toy.

The Talkboy went through a series of incarnations, including a pastel-hued Talkgirl model and the Talkboy FX Plus. The FX Plus upped the havoc-wreaking quotient by several degrees of adult-irritating potential. It housed our illicit recording device in an unassuming writing utensil, allowing us to engage in all sorts of practical jokery in the classroom. As you can imagine, our teachers were absolutely thrilled.



The Yak Bak



The Yak Bak was generally cheaper than the Talkboy, giving it parental appeal but earning it some playground trash talking. The original couldn't quite live up to the big screen fame of its direct rival, the Talkboy, but it was not without its voice recording charms. The Yak Bak 1.0 was more compact than a Talkboy, but lacked some of the important mischief-inducing speed change technology. It had only two buttons, "say" and "play". Pretty straightforward, really, but entertaining nonetheless.

Check out the Yak Bak ad at 0:30

Later models gave us better and more competitive features. The second version included the speed warp function, putting it in direct competition with the Talkboy. After this major improvement, though, the changes got a little ridiculous. They give you a feeling that the Yak Bak development team was sitting around their work room table, throwing out whatever ideas came to mind, and instantly shoving them into production. We had Yak Bak watches, Yak Bak Yalp (reversal), Yak Bak room intruder alarm, Yak Bak football. You name it, they Yakked it Bak. They even made a recording pen to try to show up the Talkboy version, which was difficult considering they were almost exactly the same toy.

The Yak Bak may not have been quite as iconic as the Talkboy, but it served its purpose. After a few upgrades it could perform mostly functions equally entertaining to that of the Talkboy. Unfortunately for the Yes! Gear toy manufacturers, their product had never starred in a major motion picture and was thus judged inferior. Either way, you held in your hands the portable capability to mock your friends and family through the cunning use of playback.


In an age when we are constantly plugged into the newest and most provocative technology, it can be tough to remember when a simple recording of a friend's voice was enough to have us rolling on the floor with uncontrollable laughter. Don't worry though, you can have more than your memories. You can actually download a Yak Bak-esque app for your iPhone. Finally, your chance to enjoy the one device the Yak Bak people never thought up: a combination Yak Bak and phone.

Beethoven

Kid's movies have a unique way of defining villains. They eliminate that pesky gray area between right and wrong and give us a starkly black and white portrait of morality. They also wrap up everything into a neatly PG-rated package and tie it with an age-appropriate bow. While real life bad guys are out there engaging in acts of sociopathic lunacy, our ever-reliable children's movie villains are trying to kidnap suburban housepets for scientific experimentation purposes. You've got to hand it to these writers; they have an uncanny way of shifting the bad guy from a reprehensible scum of the earth to one deserving of a time-out and dessert withholding.

Such in the phenomenon in Beethoven, where the worst offense a character could commit is to be a naughty veterinarian hell-bent on neighborhood puppy domination. The movie conveniently scales everything down a bit, putting the plot at child eye-level. It's a scary enough world out there without filmmakers planting night terror-inducing concepts in the minds of impressionable children. Instead, it's best to keep things simple. An adult might not buy it, but a child will be able to sleep better at night if their worst imaginable nemesis is a puppy kicker rather than a mass murdering psychopath.

Beethoven captures the simplicity of an ideal children's movie. Sure, it's got it's fair share of adult characters and parental story lines, but it mainly focuses on the exploits of a mischievous but ultimately heroic dog. Rather than trying to woo us with flashy graphics and special effects, it gives our heatstrings a deliberate tug through the cunning use of adorable oversized animals. All in all, some pretty effective methodology.



The film opens on a St. Bernard's daring escape from the clutches of the aforementioned unrelentingly evil veterinarian. The puppy finds shelter in a quiet suburban neighborhood, much to delight of the household's children. The Newton parents aren't quite on board with it, but it's tough to resist those little puppy dog eyes. He responds positively to one of the kids playing Beethoven's Fifth on the piano and earns the moniker Beethoven. Let the games begin.

Beethoven quickly launches in a montage of memorable and iconic St. Bernard moments. So memorable, in fact, that recently when I mentioned a St. Bernard to my mother she said, "Oh, I don't like that kind of dog. They always get all wet and shake the water off all over the bed." To which I responded, "Are you sure you're not just thinking of that scene in Beethoven? I'm pretty sure that's what you're talking about." She conceded, though she didn't eliminate the possibility that this was simply par for the course with St. Bernard behavior. If you happen to own one, let me know if this in-bed dry off is a standard St. Bernardism. Either way, the movie obviously had quite the impact on our impression of large dogs.



While Beethoven can be destructive, he's got his charms as well. He assists the oldest daughter in conversation with the guy she likes and comes to rescue of the other siblings in respective dangerous situations. It looks like he's a keeper, despite his ever-expanding proportions.

Unfortunately, his unsuspecting owners aren't privy to the evil veterinarian's plan to dognap their newest and largest family member. Because in the world of movies, there's apparently only one veterinarian in the whole town, our trusting family just happens to take Beethoven to the evil guy for a check up. That's right, the same evil guy Beethoven escaped from at the beginning of the movie. The vet tells the Newtons that St. Bernards are prone to attack, thus planting the seed for further animal cruelty-related trickery later in the movie.

There's a whole story going on with some business people who are trying to rip off the Newtons through a shady deal, but Beethoven yet again proves he's worth the Costco-proportioned amounts of food they feed him daily. He drags the couple around on the ground, they're all pretty angry, the deal is off. Nice work, pup.


Our evil vet Varnick returns to the Newton's house, because apparently this guy lives and breathes the capture of a single St. Bernard in a town populated with thousands of other dogs. I guess these experiments require a uniquely Beethoven quality, because Varnick is relentless in his pursuit. He pretends he's just checking in, only to stage a bogus dog attack. The kids are suspicious, but the adults acquiesce to Varnick's demand that Beethoven be euthanized.

Mr. Newton has a heart after all, and decides the family should go after Beethoven and put a stop to his imminent death. Varnick tries to play them, saying that the dog has been put to sleep, but our heroic family doesn't fall for it. The Newtons surreptitiously follow Varnick to the sketchy facility where he performs his illicit pet experiments. They save Beethoven, the cops arrest Varnick, and the family takes in a pack of other dogs freed from Varnick's clutches. Cheesy, yes, but heartwarming too.

If you've somehow managed to repress this movie or just never got around to seeing it, here's your chance. Behold, Beethoven in 5 seconds via The Guy with the Glasses


The ORIGINAL Beethoven In 5 Seconds - Funny videos are here

Of course, the story doesn't end here. If you head to video store (I'm not sure they still even exist, but just come with me on this one) you'll see rows and rows of Beethoven movies, including innumerable sequels and an animated series. Here's the direct follow up that still features most of the original cast, before they start with the subpar direct-to-video crap.



The movie's simplicity and kid appeal was more than enough to both win us over and make us yearn for a similarly valiant pet. I can't imagine the sheer number of children who left this movie begging their parents to please, please, please let them have a dog. Most of us were probably banking on the off chance that our future fluffy friend would aid in uncovering a ring of experiment-based animal abuse, so we may have been setting our expectations a bit too high. Still, though, there's something innately reassuring about a world where the worst crime a person could commit is to steal a dog or two. It may not have been the most realistic worldview, but it allowed us a slightly extended age of cinematic innocence. Thanks, Ivan Reitman. This almost makes me want to forgive you for scaring the bejeezus out of my childhood self with Ghostbusters.

Children of the 90s Ode to Discontinued 90s Foods, Part Deux

Well, children of the 90s, it's that time again. I've had some email requests from readers about some of their favorites 90s snacks, so I thought we were due for another discontinued 90s food roundup. If these commercials bring back some cravings, you're probably out of luck. Most of these foods, despite their hearty nostalgic value, have been discontinued somewhere along the way. On a good day, you might be able to find a couple of these on grocery store shelves outside of the US, but for the most part any cravings for these goodies will go unfulfilled.

For one reason or another, the producing companies of these delicious (though often un-nutritious) treats decided it just wasn't profitable enough to keep churning them out on their assembly lines. In our day some of these might have had impressive cafeteria trade value, but they've since dropped in kid coolness capital. All we have left is our memories...and for some of us, imbalanced blood sugar and an increased risk for early onset diabetes. We weren't the most health-conscious generation of kids, but we knew what we liked. Food manufacturers must have known, too, as they supplied us with copious amounts of nutritionally devoid options like these:

Pop Qwiz




At the time, this seemed like a true technological innovation in kid's snack food. Pop Secret released this kid-pleasing product in the early 90s, proving that children are the only group of consumers willing to eat incredibly unnatural-hued foodstuffs. Pop Qwiz was mostly gimmick and little substance, but the gimmick was more than enough to hold our attention and prompt countless tantrums in the popcorn aisle of the supermarket. Hey, I'd still be willing to throw myself on the ground and wail inconsolably for a bag of Pop Qwiz.

The name sounds far more educational than the value of the product warrants. I guess that's why they misspelled "Qwiz", to let us all know this popcorn snack was not academically relevant, nor would it offer us extra credit opportunities. Instead, the concept was rather simple: each bag of Pop Qwiz featured a different food-colored mass of kernels. The packaging was unassuming, leaving us kids to impatiently speculate on the bag's contents while still in the microwave. Would it be blue? Green? Purple? This eagerness for answers undoubtedly led to many oil-based burns.



Doritos 3-D



Our good friends at Doritos had no shortage of creative nacho-flavored chip incarnation ideas in the 90s. Every few weeks or so, it seemed they were debuting a new member of the ever-growing Dorito family. The short-lived Doritos 3-D were especially popular, literally adding a new dimension to our Dorito consumption. They fit in well with the "X-Treme!" trends in 90s advertising and product promotion, but they clearly couldn't stand the test of time. Air-filled pockets of salty goodness can only hold our attention for so long.



Planter's Cheez Balls


I know this ad is older than the 90s, but it was the best I could find. I think at a certain point, these defied advertising. They were pretty ubiquitous as a nutrition-free party snack food

Remember when Planter's used to make a whole bunch of other snack foods? I always thought it a bit weird that Mr. Peanut veered from his legume comfort zone to promote all classes of salty snacks. Cheez Balls (and Cheez Curls, and the briefly available PB Crisps) were once a universal party food. People were forever setting these unnaturally orange puffed balls out in bowls at social gatherings. There was something uniquely satisfying to popping off the tub's cap and hearing the release of suctioned air when you pulled the foil top and released the Cheez Balls into the wild. Unfortunately, you'll have to settle for the generics if you're craving Cheez Balls these days; Planter's has since discontinued the snack. You can, however, get a no-brand version at Sam's Club or Costco if you really need to satisfy your urge. Unfortunately, they're only available in giant tub sizes.



French Toast Crunch

French Toast Crunch Ad- Bazooka Gum
Uploaded by a90sfan. - Classic TV and last night's shows, online.

90s children's cereal trends show an unprecedented obsession of taking ordinary foods, miniaturizing them, and then convincing us they're a perfectly natural part of a balanced breakfast. French Toast Crunch was a perfect example, giving us bowlfuls of tiny French toastlets that we were expected to drown in milk and eat with a spoon. They didn't taste all that much like French toast, but they were a novelty and were thus deserving of our attention.

If you're lucky enough to live in Canada, you've still got access to this delicious breakfast treat. Publicly-funded health care comes second to the allure of starting every day with a big bowl of miniature processed imitation egg-soaked cinnamon bread? Actually, scratch that, make health care first. Daily intake of this sugar-laden cereal probably warrants regular doctor's visits.



Sprinkle Spangles



Here we go again with the miniatures. Sprinkle Spangles were a sort of Cookie Crisp knockoff, featuring sprinkle-spangled miniature sugar cookies and passing them off as cereal. How any of us ever got this one into the grocery cart and past our parent's wary watchful eye is beyond me, but the concept has yet to lose its appeal for me. I still think a bowl of these would really hit the spot when I'm craving something sweet.



Cheetos Paws



Like Doritos 3-D, Cheetos came out with an alternately shaped version of its original product and tried to pass it off as something new. Naive as we were as kids, we were ecstatic to find out our favorite orange finger-dying munchies now came in an easily grabbable pawprint shape. It was sort of like a crystal ball, really. It showed us exactly what our hands would look like if we engaged in gloveless Cheeto consumption. Well, the color part, at least. They usually didn't morph into paws.



Sodalicious Fruit Snacks



Sodalicious wins for best made-up food flavor descriptor. It's not soda per se, but it is delicious in a way similar to soda. How can we hybridize these words? Genius, I tell you.



Magic Middles



I'm getting a little drooly just watching that commercial. The name is right on: those middles were pure, sweet magic. Those Keebler elves sure are crafty. They realized they could hide even more delicious chocolate inside of an already chocolate-laden cookie, obscuring the extra sugar content from our parents. Oh hey, I'm just eating this chocolate chip cookie. With a candy bar's worth of chocolate inside. Ha ha! Gotcha.



Dannon's Sprinklins




We weren't allowed much junk food at my house, so we had to settle for the best imitation. That is, foods that incorporated sugary goodness without actually being all that sugary or good themselves. In this case, we had to suffer through some does-a-body-good yogurt in order to get to the good stuff: sprinkles. I challenge you to find a kid who doesn't like sprinkles. They're pure sugar and they're colorful. It's basically a kid's confectionery dream. I always utilized good sprinkle strategy. I'd try to conserve as many as I could for the end, but to a healthy food-disparaging kid, I'd usually have to give in and spread them throughout the cup. I just couldn't stomach it without the "Sprinkl'" part.


Like many of you, I didn't notice the gradual disappearance of these goodies from my grocery store shelves. Over time I'd eventually notice that some of my old childhood favorites had gone the way of the Dunkaroos. Unless they decide to ignore low profit margins and get swept up in the 90s nostalgia, it's unlikely we'll be seeing most of these gracing our supermarket aisles any time soon. We'll just have to settle for our delicious memories. Either that, or trying to track down some packages on Amazon or eBay. It just comes down to how seriously you consider expiration dates.