Don't Tell Them It's Educational....

With the rapid rise in household personal computer ownership throughout the 80s and 90s, children faced an entirely new arena of play to conquer. While kids may have viewed computers as a new uncharted frontier of free play, our parents and teachers were somewhat the wiser in regulating our zeal. Computers, they realized, were a perfect tool for tricking kids into learning material that would only otherwise be absorbed against their will. This backhanded approach to learning may not have been a perfect system, but dammit we would learn our multiplication tables and enjoy it.

Computer game manufacturers released heaps of educational titles cleverly disguised as amusing games. Bright colors and flashy animations effectively distracted children from the realization that they were indeed learning, and in their spare time to boot. Sure, we had an inkling deep down that these games were more substantial than our usual trivial fare, but throw enough Troggles or buffalo hunting into the mix and we were putty in your education-molding hands.

Whether in old-school Macintosh computer labs at school or on our crappy primitive homebound PCs, we collectively spent countless hours playing educational computer games. Parents and educators were usually pretty adept at remaining tight-lipped over the educational nature of the game, leaving us to our delusions of frivolous game play. As far as adults were concerned, what we didn't know couldn't hurt us...and it may just help us pass a geography test along the way.


Oregon Trail



Oregon Trail was the classic 80s and 90s educational computer game. It was a pioneer (this pun may be too horrible even for me) in its field, teaching children everywhere about the Westward bound wagon trains during our love affair with manifest destiny. The game was chock full of kid-friendly elements that easily outweighed our distaste for all things educational. For one, we got to name the characters after ourselves, meaning when our friends died of dysentery along the way we could write mean things on their editable tombstones. We got to pick our professions, make little computer-based lives for ourselves, the whole shebang.

The real appeal though was in the hunting portion of the game. If you weren't naturally sadistic in your youth, Oregon Trail was enough to bring out your inner puppy kicker. Whether you were into the challenge of shooting down a skittering squirrel or you preferred the Native American-decimating cultural significance of killing the snail-paced, monolithic buffalo, the hunting segment had something for everyone. Yes, our wagon could only hold 100 measly pounds of meat and we'd killed a whopping 1430, but we could always hope for one of our wagon-mates to get the measles and clear the space for more sweet, sweet buffalo.

To read the full Oregon Trail post, click here



Math Blaster



The game's producers had actually the audacity to put the word "math" in the title. The jig was up, we knew this was arithmetical. They did, at least, have the minor courtesy to include a video game word like "blaster". Do I get to kill math? Explode times tables in a fiery haze of unbridled and highly potent explosives? I guess I'd just have to play and find out.

It didn't turn out exactly as I hoped, but I did get to be a Blastronaut, which at least won major points in creative wordsmithery. The game itself was a essentially a school math worksheet cleverly disguised as a fast-paced game. Solving math problems earned you valuable ammo in your space blasting quests, which certainly came in handy when firing the lasers.




Storybook Weaver



I should have seen through this one, but I was totally fooled by its veneer of fun and whimsy. Storybook Weaver was not really a game at all, but a means of encouraging children to write and illustrate their own stories on the computer. In short, was an imaginative kid's dream. The possibilities were endless--well, almost endless, as we were limited by the available illustration graphics to augment our woven stories.

The best means of circumventing the educational aspect, of course, was to focus mainly on the illustrating process. With scores of backgrounds, characters, and design elements to choose from, it was like the world's most exciting and interactive sticker book. Even just reminiscing about it makes me yearn to drag and drop some princess images.



Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?



Broderbund released the first Carmen Sandiego games in the mid-80s, launching a vast and imposing educational game franchise. The creators' original aim was to get kids pumped about using the almanac; the first version was even released with a companion almanac included in the sale. How this premise managed to grab the attention of young people is a true testament to the entertaining nature of the game because let's be real here. Almanacs? Really?

The game featured elusive jewel thief Carmen Sandiego, who we were meant to capture and arrest in her globetrotting travels. We could interview bystanders and call CrimeNet, collecting clues and traveling from Kiev to Carolina in hot pursuit of our scarlet-hatted target while avoiding her VILE henchmen. The mystery element was more than enough to make us forget that this was essentially a map study session.



Reader Rabbit



Again, the titular focus on reading was enough to make us suspicious of this one, but it was admittedly pretty fun. The initial version was very simple, focusing on simple letter recognition and sounds, but they quickly released more advanced versions for a wider range of ages. We played some little games to form words, we got to watch some cute little animations with a little song and dance thrown in, everyone won. Unless you couldn't spell. Then you were pretty much screwed.



The Incredible Machine



Puzzle and strategy games were also pretty effective educational tools, particularly if they came in such a kick-ass cool form as The Incredible Machine. Each phase of the game gave us a delightfully eclectic assortment of random objects and charged us with completing a simple task using the implements at hand. I'm telling you, I could spend hours figuring out how to light a candle using a bowling ball and a medium-sized pulley. This game could seriously pull you in, especially when it teased you with the many near-miss solutions where you almost get the water in the bucket but then it spills all over the floor and ignites your electrical cord. Damn.


Living Books

Exactly what it sounds like. These would probably not hold the attention of today's technology-hungry overstimulated children, but they were quite a revelation to those of us who knew books only as a collection of paper pages bound with a spine. I am pretty sure that watching the Living Book version of Stellaluna would still amuse me equally as much as back in my third grade computer lab days.



Mavis Beacon Teaches Typing



Believe it or not, once upon a time typing was not an innate inborn skill we possessed from the tender age of three. While today's kids' fingers may fly over a keyboard, we needed a little guidance in the right direction. I'm not sure who Mavis Beacon is, but she has truly had a profound impact on my life. Are you out there, Mavis? I want to thank you.

Mavis Beacon was not all fun and games, though it was part of it. We had to complete a series of tasks and tedious drills before we got to move on to any of the fun stuff. By fun stuff I mean typing sentences to make a car race or typing number values to represent a grocery store checkout. Come to think of it, that doesn't sound that fun at all. Regardless, it seemed like a pretty worthy endeavor at the time. I even printed out the certificate displayed onscreen when I reached 30 WPM. Now that would be a great display piece for my office.


Number Munchers




Mmmm, numbers. Delicious. Well, at least they were to our Muncher pals, who greedily gobbled them up just as quickly as our nimble little fingers could identify multiples of nine. We did have to contend with those pesky Troggles, the imaginatively designed monsters who stalked the board in hopes of digesting our little green arithmetic-solving agent. If you aptly outsmarted the Troggles and managed to maneuver your way to the next level, you got to watch a little animation depicting your inevitable triumph over the evil Troggle. Good times.

To read the full Number Munchers post, click here


Some people criticize the "make it fun" approach, dismissing it as an ineffective means of teaching. I resent that assertion, though. Sure, while researching Number Munchers for this post I briefly played the free version online and found I don't know what a prime number is, but that's not the point. The point is that I played these games day in and day out without parental intervention. I actually wanted to learn. These games were no substitute for actual classroom-style education, but they were a nice change of pace from drill-and-test. At the end of the day, if we were motivated to begin some supplemental learning unprovoked, everyone was pretty happy.

Home Alone

No real-life fantasy can even begin to compare to the glory of parent-free burglar-thwarting amazingness that is Home Alone. Even the most imaginative of children lack the capacity to dream up a scenario so perfectly aligned as to leave you both completely free to wreak havoc on your own home as you see fit and act as the hero. In child imagination-run-wildland, it's pretty much the perfect crime.

Many of us have a soft spot somewhere in our hearts for Christmas movies. I'm pretty sure it's congenital. In the case of Home Alone, however, Warner Brothers gave us the ultimate one-two punch: a heartwarming family Christmas movie with a heaping helping of general kid mischief. The film's iconic nature was no accident; it was written and produced by cinema auteur extraordinaire John Hughes. The man who gave us classics as National Lampoon's Vacation, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, and Sixteen Candles found his most financially successful project in Home Alone.

The film also acted as a star vehicle for Macaulay Culkin. While Culkin had acted in previous movies such as Uncle Buck, it was Home Alone that ultimately gave him the elite status of bona fide breakout child star. Home Alone largely hinged on Culkin's solo scenes, in which his well-timed humor and general adorableness won over audiences worldwide. Kids everywhere wanted to be his character Kevin McAllister. We got our chance, too, when Nintendo released the Home Alone video games as part of the fast-growing franchise.



Home Alone revolves around the bustling McAllister family, a large clan who gathers to fly together to Paris for the Christmas holiday. In the chaos and stress of transporting the entire family from the house to the airport in the morning, the McAllister's completely forget about Kevin who has been banished to the third floor as punishment for his behavior at the previous night's dinner. Upon receiving his punishment, Kevin wished that his family would disappear. Incredibly, he wakes up the next morning to find that his wish is reality. Not a bad deal, overall, when you're an eight-year old kid yearning for a little space.

Almost immediately after boarding the flight, Kevin's mother Kate (played by one of my personal favorites, Catherine O'Hara) muses that she is certain she's forgetting something. After ticking through her mental checklist, it finally occurs to her that she's left her eight-year old son alone at home. Oh well, at least they remembered to lock up and set the alarm, right?

Kevin's totally reveling in his new found freedom, indulging in junk food, jumping on the bed, and generally causing destruction and mischief within the confines of his lonely house. His carefree parentless lifestyle is interrupted by the Chicago Police, upon whom his parents called to ensure his well-being and general not dead-ness. As if that weren't enough to shake things up, he also discovers that the infamous "Wet Bandits" burglar duo is headed his way on a rampant crime spree. Talk about your bad luck.

Kevin ingeniously devises a defense system made up of elaborate booby traps. Sure, it's a little violent, but come on, these guys are criminals. We don't see little Kevin bopping his mom on the head with a hammer or anything. As long as it's directed toward the bad guys, a little violence is A-okay in setting an example of angry revenge for children. Really. It's a commonly understood rule. Regardless, Kevin must be some kind of genius to come up with this stuff. Here's a little comically soundtracked montage someone (not me, of course) put together on YouTube of the general anti-robber mechanisms:



Needless to say, that stuff looks painful. It was all pretty slapstick, though, and in good fun. We never really thought these bad guys were going to shoot up the place, leaving a mangled Kevin in their wake. We knew our hero was safe and sound, and probably more dangerous than Harv and Marv (our merry burglar men) combined.

Simultaneous to all of this anti-burglarizing, there's also a subplot involving allegedly creepy neighbor Old Man Marley. The kids in the neighborhood are convinced he's offed his family, so imagine Kevin's surprise that he's actually a lonely old man painfully estranged from his son. Marley and Kevin become unlikely friends, and Marley even swoops in and rescues Kevin from a rather inextricable burglar-induced jam. All this sweetness and togetherness leaves Kevin ready to reunite with his parents, hopeful for their return.

On Christmas morning, Kevin wakes to find his mother and later his whole family returning just in time to celebrate the holiday together. Magically, there's no evidence of the break-in (save for one of the intruder's flashy gold teeth) of the family's none the wiser to Kevin's solo antics. Marley and his son reunite per Kevin's insistence, and all in all, it really is a wonderful life.

It wasn't the most probable of plot lines, but it sure did leave an indelible impression on moviegoers. The film became one of the highest grossing ever, showing you don't need flashy cinematography and Oscar-worthy acting to be a resounding success. All you need is a mischievous little boy, some injury-prone robbers, and one semi-creepy but inevitably lovable old man, and you've got yourself a winner.

90s TV Shows Based on Young Children's Book Series

There are only so many ideas in circulation at one time, so sometimes we've got to work with recyclable materials. Luckily for children's television programming producers, there was a wealth of ideas available in the juvenile literary world. Armed with familiar and much-beloved characters, these shows were near-guaranteed successes as children were eager to see their favorite storybook stars yukking it up on the small screen. Here are just a few of our once book-bound friends who made the leap from two-dimensional picture to, well, okay, two-dimensional picture. But, you know, with sound and animation.


Arthur



Who better than an anthropomorphic talking preteen aardvark to teach children life lessons? I really can't think of any superior alternative. Well, unless maybe you also threw in some monkey and rabbit pals. That would be the cherry on top of the talking animal role model cake.

Marc Brown began writing Arthur books in 1976, publishing the bulk of his cutesy aardvark-centric stories throughout the 80s and 90s. Brown was especially adept at slipping in a convenient pro-literacy and library friendly agenda, skyrocketing the books to popularity in schools and public reading settings. There's nothing a library loves quite as much as a book that loves libraries. It's just really the most perfect fit. I mean, for God's sake, the main character's last name is Read. How unsubtle can it get?

While the books had been enjoying a wave of popularity for a couple of decades, 90s kids were treated to an extra special supplementary means of Arthur enjoyment. In 1996, the Arthur TV series premiered on PBS, the Mecca of educational children's television entertainment supported by Viewers Like You. PBS did not disappoint in their interpretation of the new book classics, providing a series that was enjoyed by children and adults alike. Even those kids who veered into the gray area of a little too old for kid's shows often watched the show in secret, delighting in the clever wit and catchy reggae theme song performed by Ziggy Marley.

The books were delightful to children throughout the 80s and 90s not because of their exciting, fantastical nature, but because Arthur was just a regular third grade boy--er, aardvark--who suffered the same daily humiliations, irritations, and apprehensions as the rest of us. His sister DW was a total pain in the ass, he has a baby sister and a playful puppy, and deals with the daily dilemmas common to third grade Suburban life. Not to mention the show pulled guest voice actors like the Backstreet Boys, Joan Rivers, and Alex Trebek. Not bad for a show aimed at 8-year olds.



The Magic School Bus



What kid doesn't love a happy trip to imaginationland? A vehicle to get there is always useful, so when author Joanna Cole offered us a magical schoolbus, we were all more than willing to jump on board for some good ol' fashioned imaginary field trips. Plus the TV series was Canadian. How much more inviting and welcoming can you get?

As was the standard for 90s educational television program, the cast was composed of one-off token members representing a virtual rainbow of animated diversity. We had the Jewish kid, the Black kids, the Irish kid, the Mexican one, the Chinese one...pretty much if you can name an ethnicity, one of its well-spoken young representatives had a reserved seat of the Magic Schoolbus. The group was led by the eccentric frizzy-coiffed Ms. Frizzle, voiced by Lily Tomlin. We followed our bus-bound friends as they entered the human body, blast into space, or through the water cycle. Oh, and did I mention Danny Tamberelli voiced the Jewish kid and the Mexican kid was Jason from Mean Girls? I'm not really what else you could ask for from a kids' show. Oh, except maybe a theme song performed by Little Richard. I know I'm sold.



The Busy World of Richard Scarry



There's nothing quite like a warm fuzzy value-laden story starring anthropomorphic animals to convince parents to let the TV babysit their kids for a half hour or so. I'm pretty sure if I were a parent on the fence about letting children's TV programming play nanny, seeing that little worm driving an apple car would undoubtedly push me over the edge. It was fast-paced enough to keep children entertained, featuring three mini-episodes in each show. Since kids are not exactly known for their ability to sit still and patiently enjoy audiovisual media, there was more than enough material to satiate them.

The stories focused mainly on the Cat family, made up of Huckle, Sally, Mother, and Father. For no good reason, they cohabited with Lowly Worm. You know, because everyone knows that cats and worms are natural compadres. We also had police officer Sargent Murphy, the chronically unemployed and banana-desperate Bananas Gorilla, and the dumpster-diving friendly trashman Mr. Fixit. It was an eclectic bunch, but they were admittedly chock-full of talking animal wisdom and values. If nothing else, it sure beats what passes for children's programming these days. Send one of those Yo Gabba Gabba critters up against Lowly Worm and his applemobile and I'd put my bets on wormy.




Little Bear



Speaking of tedious sanctimonious children's programming. He's cute and all, but he just has so many feelings. The books were pretty sweet, though no one would declare them overly creative. With animal characters aptly named Duck, Owl, Hen, Cat, Mother Bear, Father Bear, and Little Bear, they weren't exactly breaking new ground here. For no reason at all, there was also a little girl named Emily and a skunk named Marshmallow. Just go with it.

Like The Busy World of Richard Scary, each Little Bear episode featured three vignettes. Our titular character is a curious shoeless six-year old little boy bear who provides the childlike perspective. The show has a sort of old-fashioned feel, though it premiered in the 90s. Our characters hand-knead bread by candlelight, so perhaps they're not the most relatable characters for kids. Then again, they're also bears, so we can probably just let that go.




The World of David the Gnome



Based on the children's book The Secret Book of Gnomes, Daivd the Gnome is a Spanish television series later dubbed in English and narrated by our pal Captain von Trapp. You know, from the Sound of Music? Anyway, the show introduced us to the curious world of gnomes, a miniature community of half-foot tall pointed-hat sporting little people who lived in forests, farms, or gardens. These little guys were hundreds of years old and full of a fun type of gnome-specific wisdom that only children can appreciate. Because looking back, I think I'm just too jaded to appreciate this kind of stuff anymore. Back in the day, though, with my thriving imagination, I was all over this stuff.

Our buddy David the Gnome (Tom Bosley!) is a forest-dwelling gnome in the medicinal healing mold, doling out acupuncture and hypnosis to his gnome neighbors. He's got a wife named Lisa, his best friend is a fox, and his family is forever being pestered by local trolls. At the time, it made perfect sense, believe me. The show had environmental undertones, with the gnomes charged with picking up after us selfish and uncaring humans. Damn humans. We're so cruel and we have no sense of appreciation for primary colored pointed hats.



The ideas may not have been original, but most of the stories translated pretty well to television. The shows also had the effect of easing our parents' guilt of parking us in front of the TV with the hope that it might inspire us to someday pick up the book itself. So what if all we came out with was an encyclopedic knowledge of children's TV theme songs? The point is that they tried.

Britney Spears

Oh, what a different a decade can make. Reference Britney Spears ten or so years ago, and you conjured up an image of a teen cultural phenomenon, a gorgeous fresh-faced midriff-baring schoolgirl with a cascade of beautiful golden hair. Reference Britney Spears now, and you're taken to a different place entirely. Images come to mind of an out-of-control out-of-shape washed-up train wreck chowing down on Taco Bell barefoot in a gas station in a bathroom somewhere with an unfortunately bald head. Sure, she's managed to turn herself back around and re-reinvent herself thanks to the help of an incredibly adept mangement team and conservatorship, but the original image has been tarnished as we watched our favorite pop princess spiral into the void.

Funnily enough, whenever Britney Spears tickets go on sale nowadays, I hear squealing teenagers everywhere on the radio begging for tickets. It's as if a new generation has rediscovered our old Britney, and that period of lapsed judgment simply never happened. The Britney these kids know, however, is a very different Britney than the ones we knew. Once upon a time, girls everywhere yearned to be Britney. While you'd be hard-pressed to find a teenybopper today willing to trade places with Brit, in our day it was essentially the dream of every mainstream girl who'd ever stood in front of the mirror lip-synching in her tied-up Catholic school uniform.

Hearken back, if you will, to a time when Britney was just a fresh-faced chipper little brunette thing, bouncing around with Christina Aguilera and Justin Timberlake on The Mickey Mouse Club. It didn't get any squeakier clean than this. The show had been popular in the 50s and 70s, but a revitalized 1990s version brought new life to the concept. Though she auditioned at 8, Britney landed a role on the show at age 12.


Yes, Britney and Justin, the way we'd like to remember them...together.

Of course, I'm getting ahead of myself. For all the anonymous gossip blog hater commenters claiming Britney to be a talentless shill, we've got to remember that though she may have been famous for her dancing she was first noticed for her singing talent on Star Search at the age of 10.



The stage seemed set for Britney to take off in a major way. In '97 she briefly joined the dead-end girl group Innosense. Get it? Innocence...in. no. sense? These 90s music managers sure were clever. Here's Brit and the girls from Innosense, in case you can't remember. This probably was after their stint as musical conspirators, but it's still adorably vintage Brit Brit.



Just a few months after joining Innosense, Britney was signed to Jive Records, the company responsible for misguidedly catapulting manufactured and highly managed groups like *NSYNC and Backstreet Boys to atmospheric fame. Britney was cute, innocent (after all, this was pre "not that innocent" era), and had that all-American personality that endeared people everywhere to her sparkly smile and Southern accent. She was more than poised for fame, though no one could have anticipated what happened next. I do imagine her managers were pretty pleased with it, however.

In 1998, she released "Baby One More Time", becoming the first ever single released by an unknown new artist to hit number one. The video was late-90s pop at its finest, cementing a Britney Spears brand based on tongue-in-cheek naivete and latent sexuality. In it, Brittany donned pigtails, a tied-up oxford shirt, and a borderline indecent plaid schoolgirl skirt, giving dirty-minded old men everywhere a troublesome jailbait Lolita fetish and forcing Catholic schools everywhere to invest in additional security. I'm also not too proud to admit I coveted those feather pigtail ornaments with a near-religious fervor, buying what essentially amounted to a Britney Spears starter kit at Target and dutifully lacing them through my pigtails at all available opportunities. And that scene where she's got the pink sports bra, the white pants, and the half-pigtails? I yearned to replicate this look more than anything, much to the chagrin of my midriff-abhorring parents.



Britney became something of an overnight sensation, with her fluffy bubble-gum pop hits blaring from middle schooler's discmans (discmen?) across the world. Coupled with a racy Rolling Stone cover shoot, Britney Spears had solidified her semi-contradictory role as virginal teen queen and forbiddenly sexual temptress.


This image was further compounded by the fact that Britney jumped aboard the current pop sensation trend train in declaring herself a virgin, a puzzling statement in the wake of her suspiciously physical and potentially cohabitational relationship with childhood pal Justin Timberlake. Now the idea of their public declaration seems utterly laughable, but at the time it probably seemed like a fairly smart publicity move for their ever-more famous starlet. I suppose it is possible they weren't having sex. They did, after all, show up to an event wearing this grotesque denim-on-denim-on-denim set of matching ensembles. I imagine it was some form of fashion-driven sexual behavior deterrent. It's really the only explanation.



In 1999, Brit's follow up single "(You) Drive Me Crazy" was another successful record, though not on the scales of her debut "Baby One More Time." The song was featured on the Melissa Joan Hart/Adrian Grenier teen movie vehicle Drive Me Crazy.



Britney even did a crossover promotional appearance on Hart's sitcom, Sabrina the Teenage Witch. It was, well, magical.



She was nothing short of a rapid-fire hit-making machine, a year later releasing "Oops I Did It Again", a red-jumpsuited, hair-extensioned cheesefest complete with a spoken interlude chock-full of Titanic references. You just can't make this stuff up. No matter the low level of substance, it didn't deter girls everywhere from yearning to learn these dance moves.



Back in the day, Brit wasn't above poking fun at herself. Observe in this 2000 intro to her hosting gig on Saturday Night Live as she makes fun of rumors surrounding speculations over a purported boob job.



Of course, she couldn't keep up her good-girl image forever. Itching to break out of her schoolgirl shell, Britney pushed the limits with a slightly edgier image in her next album. She cemented this move with a sexy MTV Music Video Awards performance featuring dancing nearly-naked with a boa constructor. Nothing says "I'm not a girl, not yet a woman" like dancing with reptilian life.



Itching to get into film, Brit gave us a cameo in Austin Powers in Goldmember:


Followed by a slightly tragic foray into acting with her supposed movie star-making vehicle, Crossroads. Really, I don't care how big a Brit Brit fan you are. It's totally painful.

Holy crap! That is totally Justin Long, about to have sex with Brit's character Lucy n the trailer. I will hold back the mocking, though, I met him once at a craps table in Vegas and he was totally nice even though we were totally drunk. From what I remember, that is. Hence, I'm going to let it go, Justin. Just this once.

Britney stayed famous as ever, but things took a turn as she ached to break the shackles from her tightly managed life. She rebelled, dating and then marrying and then divorcing Kevin Federline, though not before popping out a few wee ones. We all know what happened next, though I'd prefer to gloss over that part. That's neither the Brit I thought I knew nor loved, and I'd prefer to just watch it on E!'s "Britney: Fall From Grace" than recount it myself.

Luckily, she's made a major comeback, though she remains a bit tarnished in reputation from her various past exploits. An MTV documentary can only reinstate you so far. Regardless, her new album is possibly her most successful since her debut, and it's likely she's more famous than ever. Love her or hate her, you've got at least admire her team's well orchestrated comeback:

Britney Spears - Circus
Uploaded by BritneySpears-music. - Explore more music videos.

Is it embarrassing to admit that as I type this, I have that bottle on my desk next to me of that Curious perfume with the atomizer she uses at the beginning of the video? C'mon don't judge. Just think of it as a crossover tie-in promotional item.

Children of the 90s TV Superheroes

Every generation of children has their own group of superheroes to admire and adore. Admittedly, ours was somewhat of an eclectic bunch. If our 90s TV superheroes were forced to square off against, say, some 1970s TV superheroes, we'd probably be pretty screwed.

It's not so much that they were unskilled heroes or their powers were not useful. Okay, that may have been true in some cases (Ghostwriter, anyone?), but certainly not all across the board. Generally, though, 90s TV superheroes seemed a bit more down to earth than the heroes of days of yore. Many past superheroes had been virtually untouchable, so on top of their game that we could do no more than stand by in awe, mouths agape in bewonderment. As time went on, however, there developed a prototype for superheroes to whom we could more readily relate. By the time our superheroes were debuting on the airwaves, many of them had been reduced to mere gung-ho environmentalists and literacy-minded street youth.

Like us, many of these heroes were children or adolescents, most made foolish mistakes, and generally were highly fallible characters. Again, maybe not the type of dream team we'd put up against the classic comic book types, but certainly more endearing to the average child. These were a kinder, gentler bunch, and though many could still command some pretty impressive powers, they were certainly not without fault.

Behold, a brief assortment* of some of Children of 90s unique television superheroes:



Darkwing Duck




Darkwing Duck is a spinoff of Disney's Saturday morning DuckTales cartoon featuring an undercover superhero who goes by the alias Drake Mallard. Darkwing Duck is fairly adept at undercover crime-fighting, but he does manage to have the inflated ego and fumbling befuddledness lacking in many of our shinier superheroes. Darkwing is most directly a parody on the earlier Batman comics and show, with many of his attributes and behaviors echoing the Batman character. He doesn't seem to have any real superpower other than being a general protector of good and defender against evil. I know I say that like it's no big thing, but I mean that he never mutated and developed any sort of totally awesome superhuman powers. He's more of a super Samaritan.

In poking around into Darkwing Duck's background, I did come across a rather humorous bit of information. His trademark catchphrase, "Let's get dangerous!" got a bit lost in translation during international syndication. To Indonesian viewers, he declared "Let's charge the danger!" To the Russians, "Well, clear prop!" The Dutch heard, "Let's get nice and risky!" The clear winners, however, were our French viewers, to whom Darkwing Duck declared "This song is creepy!" I don't get it either.


Quailman (Doug)



I know, I know, a middle schooler's daydream fantasy sequences don't necessarily constitute an actual superhero, but for a sideline story Quailman's premise was pretty well-developed. He was, though, an apt superhero role model for children as most of his imaginary dilemmas were based on the actual middle school struggles of the Doug Funnie character. Quailman's main powers were those of patience, intelligence, and speed, leading us to believe we could pretty much do what he did with enough virtuosity. Well, until he broke out the Quail Eye and stupefied his adversaries. Either way, the alter ego was essentially Doug wearing a cape, underwear over his shorts, and a belt on his head. If anyone's still looking for a Halloween costume, I'd say call the search off right now, strap on a belt headdress and over-underwear and you've got yourself a look.



Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles


Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Intro

S.O.B.|MySpace Videos

You've got to hand it to the original masterminds behind Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, these things were specific. I'd love to have sat in on a brainstorming session about these guys. Certainly the premise is creative, but it's also insanely intricate. We all just accept is a sensible fact because we grew up with it, but any outsiders would tell you in an instant that the notion of a group of sewer-dwelling, pizza-chomping, rat-led giant turtles named for Renaissance artists is completely absurd. They would, of course, be right.



Captain Planet and the Planeteers



Ooh, environmentalism. Now that's a badass power. I imagine Al Gore had a hand in this somewhere. This show is education-disguised-as-entertainment (edutainment to those crafty insiders) at its finest. The Planeteers are not only environmental protectors but as a group are also incredibly multi-cultural. Furthermore, our heroes even travel by solar power to cut down on pollution. How much more pious of superheroes could you get? Captain Planet laid it on pretty thick though when he told us "The power is yours!" Nothing like a combination Saturday morning cartoon/public service announcement to get me going.


Ghostwriter



Speaking of impressive powers, I have to say I'm shocked to see literacy didn't make the cut on any of these other shows. What, you don't think reading and writing skills are superpowerful? Think again. Our again incredibly culturally and racially diverse group of preteens went about their lives solving mysteries through the use of (gasp!) their reading and writing skills. I can not tell a lie, I played along at home with my Ghostwriter pen, too. My solutions, unfortunately, were rarely accurate. I blame the fact that I never actually communicated with Ghostwriter himself.


Alex Mack



Alex Mack was just an average teenager when a freak encounter with some suspicious spilled chemicals renders her superpowerful. She's a classic example of a "they're just like us!" emerging class of superheroes. Sure, she could melt into some amorphous metallic liquid, exercise telekinesis, and issue bursts of electricity with a wave of her finger, but otherwise she was just your average junior high student struggling to find her place. Okay, well I guess the mysteriously evil chemical plant wants to kidnap her and turn her into a human guinea pig, which might not fit into the daily lives of most middle school kids, but you get the point. She wore overalls and backwards baseball hats and had crushes and public embarrassments just like the rest of us.


Mighty Morphin Power Rangers


Mighty Morphin Power Rangers Intro

S.O.B.|MySpace Videos


The MMPRs were a legitimate pop culture phenomenon in the 90s, with kids everywhere clamoring to get their hands on their share of merchandise and memorabilia. Essentially, a group of five sassy teenagers are charged with protecting the Earth. I'm almost positive that's who we'd entrust it to if it really came down to it. Teenagers can have some serious attitude. Their wise leader gives them the power to change into Power Rangers, meaning they get some kickass weapons, cool costumes, and access to Zord hangouts. All in all, not a bad deal. Plus, they came with corresponding colors! What more could you ask for? I personally always thought of myself as the Pink Ranger type. This association quickly became an indicator of personality types amongst the under-12 set.


The Tick



Like Darkwing Duck, The Tick had a largely satirical premise. The Tick is the ultimate parody, featuring a strong-jawed, muscularly defined superhero who is incredibly enthusiastic, a bit dim-witted, and prone to giving long, droning motivational talks full of inane points and comparisons. His trademark cry, "Spooooon!" is also a nonsequitor, originating from a flash of inspiration one morning while eating his cereal. He has a variety of superpowers, such as the inability to be physically hurt in painful situations, but my favorite was always his "drama power". This basically boiled down to the Tick becoming a better superhero as his surrounding situation became increasingly dramatic. Brilliant. I think many teenage girls possess this power, as well.


Sabrina the Teenage Witch



Following the cancellation of Clarissa Explains It All, Melissa Joan Hart stumbled into another successful television franchise in Sabrina the Teenage Witch. Par for the 90s superhero course, Sabrina thinks she's just an ordinary teenager until she learns on her sixteenth birthday that she's actually a witch. You'd have thought the talking cat may have tipped her off, but it might have been a bit too subtle**. Every plot seems to revolve around a balance between being a teenager and restraining the abuse of power, but it's cute enough to let the repetitiveness go a bit. And when she poses in the mirror during the intro? Teen sitcom gold.


We may not have had the most enviable superheroes, but they were certainly a fun and eclectic bunch. Perhaps they weren't the best and the brightest or the most talented, but they were...wait, where was I going with this? They're starting to sound pretty lame. Oh, right, the gap between ourselves and our TV superheroes narrowed, making them into characters that we could both relate to, idolize, and find humor in. And really, if you can't laugh at your superheroes, who can you laugh at?



*A Children of the 90s Sampler Pack if you will, I've even removed all the gross coconut-filled ones for your convenience.
**I know, I know, that part came later. It's a joke.

2ge+her

I'm all for satire and parody. There's nothing quite like issuing well-placed subtle jabs and barbs at a mockable target. While at times parody can be forced and rigid, in other cases it's almost impossible to not make fun of a phenomenon. Such was the case with boy bands, giving MTV the perfect satirical opening with which to unleash their made-for-TV movie, 2ge+her.

You really have to give MTV credit where due. As a major source of the hype and hysteria surrounding the boy bands of the late-90s, MTV was not above poking fun at their own bread and butter. Who better than the people constructing the boy band craze to parody their own product? With their insider expertise, they were that much more qualified to offer us a frighteningly accurate tongue-in-cheek portrayal of their bestselling output.

Boy Bands such as *NSYNC and Backstreet Boys were serious moneymaking enterprise in the late 90s, and their penchant for taking themselves incredibly seriously just begged to be parodied. They were far more of a heavily manufactured and well-orchestrated product than a musical act. Sure, they released songs and put on concerts, but you'd be hard pressed to find any respectable musician claiming boy bands as peers. Their squeaky-clean image, pretty boy looks, and high-pitched vocals weren't doing them any favors on street credibility either.



2ge+her was the first MTV made-for-TV movie, a fledgling attempt to capitalize on the cliches and tragically comedic industry standards that put money in their executives' wallets. Though the details were exaggerated, many of the plot points hit remarkably close to home with actual boy band behavior and management. If badly executed or poorly received by fans, MTV could have easily shot themselves in the proverbial foot. After all, they were essentially telling tweens and teens--their target market--that the albums and video their network was peddling were indeed little more than well-polished tripe.

It was a risky business, with MTV teetering on the fine line between satire and flat-out mockery. Luckily, the satirical elements were funny enough to lighten up the darker themes, allowing even the most rabid fans of boy bands an opportunity to step back and laugh a bit at the inane world of prefab music acts. We watched as our tragically humorous heroes were assembled, branded, and marketed by industry managers. While the band was a blatant farce, it was an interesting theme-within-a-theme situation that put 2ge+her dangerously close to their real-life counterparts in their road to success. After all, so-called "real" boy bands were similarly cast, molded, and marketed, leading us to wonder which scenario was indeed more grounded in reality.

MTV utilized much of their own clout as the experts in pop music to offer credibility to the film. The movie opens with a mock MTV news segment that looks and sounds exactly like the ones featured daily by the network. Well, save for the fact that it features the fictional news of music sensation boy band "Whoa" whose hit single "Rub One Out" is ruling the airwaves. That part seems a bit off, right? Maybe it's just me. Other than that, it's spot on.



The movie recognized the usual lineup of cliches favored by boy band managers, with each member appropriately pigeonholed into a character mold and marketed as a two-dimensional musical personality. 2ge+her did not disappoint on this front, featuring some of our standard boy band fare in a new, more comical light. Behold, our heroes:


Mickey Parke: The Bad Boy




You can tell he's bad because he speaks pseudo-ebonics and pretends to rap. Wait, is that the passive near-racism of the milky white boy band world rearing its ugly head? Hmm. Might be.



Jason "QT" McNight: The Cute One



In a dark incident of art imitating life (the term art is used loosely here), part of the QT character's shtick was that he was beloved for being not only adorable but also terminally ill. Tragically, the actor who played QT was actually battling cancer and passed away a couple of years later.



Chad Linus: The Shy One


"Shy" is apparently in this case synonymous with IQ-deficient and a little bit sensitive. In an endearing sort of way.



Jerry O'Keefe: The Hearthrob

The Hearthrob represents the requisite eye candy, but also usually the strongest member vocally. The character truly aspires to be a singer and is relatively dreamy, so it's safe to say he's been appropriately typecast.



Doug Linus: The Older Brother


Poking fun at the fact that most boy bands had one member in their mid-20s, Chad's balding brother Doug is tottering somewhere in the realm of his mid-thirties (though he does hope his braces make him a tad more relatable with the young folk). Oh, and did I mention in he's played by Kevin Farley, Chris Farley's younger brother? That in itself deems him worthy of comedic excellence.

Funnily enough, unlike many artists of today, the ensemble actors actually sang their own songs:


Calculus (U +Me=Us)


A breakout hit in both the movie and real life, the single went on to enjoy a good bit of radio play. It's hilariously on point with actual boy band standards, which is unsurprising as many of the group's songs were penned by songwriters with a track record working with boy bands and pop music acts. This song is fun pure and simple, a no-frills approach to parody that so closely imitates its real-life muse it's nearly impossible to distinguish from the real thing. Well, except that the lyrics are pretty ridiculous. It did come with a fun little dance to the part that goes, "You! Plus sign! Me! Equal sign! Us!" That pretty much makes up for any shortcomings.


Say It (Don't Spray It)



This song is completely ridiculous, but their earnestness in presenting it to us makes it all the funnier.


The Hardest Part of Breaking Up (Is Getting Back Your Stuff)


From their second album, "2ge+her Again", this song was off the wall absurd but still managed to reside in plausible boy band territory as they crooned, "You had my heart, my soul, my attention/but you walked out my life/with my CD collection". It also included some great spoken lines like, Man you ever break up with a girl And she keeps your stuff? Man, What's up with dat?! I dunno man, something wrong! Ya know what I'm sayin'? Something wrong with dat...." Unfortunately, these lines were frighteningly plausible as real boy band song chatter.

The movie was such a hit and the songs such a runaway success that MTV adapted the premise into a weekly series. The band appeared in character on TRL, starred in their own episode of MTV's Making the Video, and even opened for Britney Spears in concert, further blurring the lines between real life and the eerily similar echo of satirical fiction. From the group's formation and initial hype in late 1999 to the show's end in 2001, the band enjoyed relatively realistic music-world success. Pretty impressive for a group of vocally capable comedic actors.

The death of 2ge+her member Michael Cuccione (QT) marked the end of the series run, further blurring the line between Cuccione's reality and his terminally ill character. Despite the tragic circumstances surrounding the act's cancellation, the show proved that MTV not only had a sense of humor but was also surprisingly adept at relentlessly mocking themselves. If only we could get them to do the same these days with those Hills girls, maybe MTV could redeem itself. I wouldn't bet on it, though.

The Mighty Ducks

I suppose I should come right out and admit that I'm more than a little biased in my treatment of certain nostalgic material. Objectivity is a nice idea, but let's be real here: anyone growing up in Minnesota in the 1990s who even knew a person who played hockey was predisposed to fall in love with The Mighty Ducks. As a proud ex-Minneapolitan, I not only loved the movie for its hometown roots but also because my family drove daily past the arenas where the movie was filmed and if I squinted hard enough I can even see some former Pee Wee Hockey League-affiliated friends as cheering crowd extras. It wasn't exactly a tough sell for me.

Regardless of my personal inclination to adore this movie unapologetically, I still assumed that loving this movie was nothing short of a universal kid phenomenon. It had heart, stellar sports movie cliches, quacking, and even a scrappy female player who later went to star in one of my favorite movies*. Maybe I just love hockey enough to be blinded by the subject matter, but I was reasonably certain that this film was beloved by all. Call me naive, but I was shocked to learn that the film hold an 8% positive rating on aggregate movie review site Rotten Tomatoes. I know kids movies can be a little cheesy, but eight percent? Has my entire movie-loving life been a lie? I don't know what to believe anymore.

Maybe the real issue is that these adults just are so darn critical. Yes, as a currently critical adult I realize this likely veers me into hypocritical territory, but as a child I pretty much took everything released on TV or VHS as media gospel until I caught a few episodes of Mystery Science Theater 3000 and realized these things were mockable. The Mighty Ducks, though, lived in a time before over-analyzing and before my friends and I held discerning opinions on quality of entertainment sources. We loved hockey, we loved a young Joshua Jackson, and dammit we loved ourselves some Mighty Ducks and that was that.

The original did seem to have a bit of that magic dust glow haloing its premise, at least to children. Yes, it's a hackneyed and oft repeated tale of a group of ragtag kids who just can't catch a break who finally find the inspiring hope they so desperately crave in the hands of a rough-round-the-edges coach. That description could fit a hundred kids sports movies, but it doesn't detract all that much from their heartwarmingness and general adorability. We may see now that these themes were perhaps not the most original, but they did continually reaffirm our beliefs that even if we were completely terrible at something, some kindly adult might come along and change our lives into those of winners.

On the other side of the fence, I imagine all of my sport coaches throughout the year rewound these inspirational locker room moments again and again, seeking cheesy motivational fodder. Who can argue with that level of cinematic results? If only we could have mustered up the corresponding heartening theme music. Then it would have been in the bag.



The familiar rehashed story focuses on Gordon Bombay (Emilio Estevez), the most bad-assed named attorney in the Minneapolis area facing drunk driving charges. See, we even start with a message. Don't drink and drive, kids, or you'll have to live out your unfulfilled dreams of leading a group of peewee hockey misfits to a much-deserved victory. Bombay is predictably sentenced to community service coaching a kid's hockey league, forcing him to revisit his own traumatic childhood hockey memories in which he blew the big game for his team. Scarring stuff.

Of course, Bombay is further dismayed to find himself saddled with an untalented motley crew of hockey misfits. There's not a shred of mutual respect between the players and their new coach, with the two sides getting off to an abysmal start. There's a clear hatred brewing between coach and team, and it doesn't look particularly pretty.



Many of Bombay's early coaching efforts are at best misguided, leading both the team and their parents to berate his coaching style and personal character alike. As is apt to happen in these types of Disney films, Bombay coincidentally is reunited with an old mentor, Hans, who seems to be in the right place at the right time at every turn to encourage the budding coach's past passion for the sport.

In typical lawyerly fashion, Bombay solicits funding from his boss, Mr. Ducksworth. Get it? Ducksworth, Ducks? I hope a screenwriter's guild award went to that guy. With financial backing, the team is able to acquire a lot of the equipment and practice space they so sorely needed, and it looks like we're heading in the right direction.




There are the requisite misunderstandings in which the team gets pretty angry over something they misoverheard Bombay say and most players choose to boycott a game, forcing a forfeit. To make things worse, Bombay is coming to the end of serving out his community service sentence only to find that Ducksworth and Co. all seem hell bent on manipulating the peewee hockey system in some sort of corrupt ploy that would never matter in real life. Ducksworth goes so far as to fire Bombay, which is of course the only logical next step in this ever-growing distance between the world of peewee hockey and reality.

Our kids are still scuffling over their mixed loyalties to each other versus the coach, ending in a quacking incident that lands them all in detention. Bombay comes to visit their detention classroom, offers some much-needed pep and encouragement, giving them a major boost of team pride.



The semi-corrupt league disputes over star player Adam (who should be zoned as a Ducks player but played for the anonymously evil rivals the Hawks) are resolved as Adam finally joins the Ducks, adding to their burgeoning confidence. The Ducks make the playoffs, win a couple more games, and all seems to be falling into place as expected in a rah-rah sports movie.

As expected, the Ducks face off against the Hawks in their championship game, setting the stage for a last minute not-so-surprising victory. Instead of chastising and berating the boys like his coach had, Bombay encourages them and they take the game per expected. It's still sweet though. All the while the romantic storyline between Bombay and a player's parent seems to be flourishing. On top of all this feel-goodness, the kids offer their encouragement for Bombay's own fledgling minor league hockey career, and while a tad over the top it still manages to warm your heart at least as much as a shot of good whiskey.

Just ignore that half of this clip is the closing credits. You're granted full permission to skip that part.

It may not be the perfect movie, but there's a reason some movie tropes are replayed time and time again. It isn't a new tale to adult moviegoers, but through the fresh virgin eyes of children it manages to renew itself as affective for a new generation. When we later saw the baseball, football, and basketball versions of this movie we were well prepared for the requisite shots of inspiration. Not to mention the two sequels, the animated series, and an actual NHL team under the Ducks namesake. Learning about sportsmanship and franchise milking management in one fell swoop. Not bad.


*Wet Hot American Summer, in case you were wondering, starring our pal Marguerite Moreau. If any of you caught the Wet Hot references in this post, congratulations. You're awesome.

10 Things I Hate About You

There's nothing like a movie based on a Shakespearean play to get the teenage hormones firing. Well, perhaps not in their original form, but take out all of those "thees" and "thous" and you've got yourself the basis of a juicy, teen-friendly blockbuster hit. The real key is to trick kids into thinking that what they're watching is in no way tied to anything remotely educational or character-building, and leave them to be midguidedly amused upon reading the original and finding that the main characters share names with some of their favorite teen movie roles.

In the 90s, Shakespeare was actually pretty standard cinema fare, though 10 Things I Hate About You was most apt at repackaging the original concept. There was Baz Luhrman's iconic Romeo and Juliet, A Midsummer Night's Dream with Michelle Pfiffer and Calista Flockhart, reincarnations of both Hamlet and The Twelfth Night, and even the semi-autobiographical Shakespeare in Love featuring Gwenyth Paltrow. Someone out there must have seen the rise in Shakespeare's 90s cinema stock and thought to themselves, "Now how I can I make this appealing to teenagers who consistently fall asleep while reading their 10th-grade English class copies of Macbeth?"

Indeed, moviemakers were up to the challenge, releasing 10 Things I Hate About You in 1999, a clever rethinking of Shakespeare's The Taming of the Shrew. See how much it helps to change the name? I'm not a hundred percent certain I could even recognize a shrew in a forest ranger lineup of woodland creatures, and I can't imagine delighting in the fact that the term was meant to describe the lowly and second-rate social status of women. A squirrel maybe, but a shrew? Really? They're not even industrious or cuddly. How insulting.

Lucky for us the new teen version respun the tale to include a mild dose of feminist manifesto, thus canceling out the play's original message of female subordination to their obviously superior male counterparts. In short, we were given an upbeat and more enlightened retelling of the original Shakespeare tale, though at least the initial setup of the storyline remained relatively intact. Cast any film with good looking, well-dressed teenagers and we'll all quickly forget that it's somehow laced into the rich heritage of significant 26th century literary tradition.



Even from the trailer alone it's easy to see all of the wonderful 90s teen movie cliches that so defined this iconic genre. Teen comedies were all the range, though 10 Things proved to be a bit smarter than its peers. For instance, it refused to employ the cheap trick of giving our supposed outcast glasses, which is essentially the equivalent of having a character cough to indicate future terminal illness. Instead, 10 Things gives us a sassy, independent-thinking social deviant who is cool in her own right, even if she doesn't abide by the same rigid standards of mainstream high school coolness as her sister. For a teen movie, that's a pretty lofty feat.

It's true to its Shakespearean roots in its utterly complicated and twisted plot. We open on Cameron's (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) first day of school as his nerdy escort Michael gives him the grand tour complete with requisite clique overview. In the midst of his orientation, Cameron spots the beautiful and popular Bianca (Larissa Oleynik, who I still generally refer to as Alex Mack for mental cataloging purposes) and is immediately taken in by her physical charms. Michael wisely tries to dissuade his delusional companion, but he's too far gone to be swayed by logic. Instead, he signs on as Bianca's French tutor, ignoring the fact that he himself does not speak French.



Meanwhile, Bianca is smitten with tube sock model and toolbox extraordinaire Joey (Andrew Keegan), who while admittedly a dreamboat in the looks department is less than brimming with sparkling wit and conversational skills. Unless the conversation is about him, of course. Bianca's joyride is outed by bitter sister Kat (Julia Stiles), forcing their single father to reconsider his ironclad anti-dating policy. The new policy turns out to be Bianca can date when Kat chooses to date, creating a sticky and notably uncomfortable situation for all. Strategic parenting at its finest.

Cameron starts on as Bianca's French tutor, during which time he learns about Bianca's newly enforced dating restriction. Cameron and Michael hatch a scheming plan to find a suitable suitor for surly sister Kat. He approaches Patrick (the late great Heath Ledger), an Aussie loner with a reputation for dangerous behavior. After failing to convince Patrick themselves, Cameron and Michael consider a new strategy and enlist the help of BMOC Joey Donner. They broker a deal for Joey to pay Patrick in exchange for his Kat-wooing services, unaware of his role as middleman to Cameron.

Michael, angry for being chastised by his former group of nerdy preps, starts a rumor that classmate and rival Bogey Lowenstein's intimate get-together for his pre-WASPy friends is actually a party brimming with free beer and live music. All the while Kat is underwhelmed (maybe just whelmed?) by Patrick's attempts at romance




The whole school shows up at the Lowenstein residence, including Bianca and Kat after the former begged the latter to attend. Kat gets outstandingly drunk, dances on a table, and incurs a near-concussion as a result. Patrick is at her side the whole way, seemingly charmed by his former burden. Cameron learns that Bianca was actually playing him rather than the other way around, as she was using him as a pawn in her path to Joeydom. However, Cameron offers Bianca a ride home and is granted a kiss in return, refocusing his intentions.

After sobering up, Kat remains unimpressed by Patrick's attempts until he performs the ultimate grand gesture that left teen girls everywhere swooning:



There are some minor hiccups but Patrick manages to convince Kat that his intentions are true, which is actually pretty false and he's receiving $300 for his services. Granted, he seems to be into her, but I can't imagine I'd be pleased to find someone was being paid to date me. Bianca and Kat both end up at the prom on the respective arms of Cameron and Patrick, leaving Joey in the proverbial dust. Oh, and Bianca wears this godawful midriff baring two-piece number. Really, it's just completely hideous.

Joey spills the beans about the deal in a rage and justifiably, Kat's pretty pissed. Oh, and Bianca punches Joey and it's awesome. Almost makes up for the dress. But really, not quite.

Back at school, Kat reads her self-referential poem of the movie's namesake, "10 Things I Hate About You":




Everything and everyone comes to blows, but all seems well that ends well. Patrick buys Kat a guitar with his dirty bribe money, Kat's father permits her to go to her first-choice school Sarah Lawrence, and Bianca and Cameron are an item. Everything is fairly neatly tidied up for the ending as expected, but it's still sort of sweet.

It may not have been actual Shakespeare, but the movie did showcase a humor and wittiness that far outpaced its teen film genre competitors. Plus, it had a kickass soundtrack, or at least I perceived it to be back in junior high. Pretty much everyone left theaters humming Letters to Cleo's cover of "I Want You to Want Me", after all.

The movie relied on a lot of cliched teen movie tropes, but it turned some on their head as well. It was a better, smarter version of our stereotypical movie offerings, giving us a new teen world in which senior girls flash their soccer coaches as a diversion tactic and quirky school guidance counselors write smutty romances between sessions. What's not to like?

AOL and Chat Rooms

Once upon a time, our parents didn't have a clue what we were doing online. The internet was a new and exciting place, and it seemed like a safe and inpenetrable fortress of unsupervised mischief. Mind you, this was years before Chris Hansen was popping in to offer you a seat while the decoy internet teen went to go check on the hot tub. There was no catching of predators, no online policing, just pure, unadulterated dangerous fun.

If anything, our parents were more concerned with our tying up the phone lines than our online whereabouts. Sure, we may have been making under-the-table investments with Nigerian princes, but our parents were solely worried about the busy signal clogging our line. Back in the day, there was no wireless or high speed internet connections, there was a little phone jack that shared a common line with our home phones. In a time before universal cell phone ownership, this was a pretty serious inconvenience. Not to mention how annoying that modem sound was when you picked up the phone. Ouch.

When children of the 90s first got in-home internet access, it was a novel and exciting concept. Finally, a relatively captive audience with whom to share our innermost thoughts, dreams, and anonymous flirtations. Once we could actually forge a connection, that is. I'd sit for scores of minutes at a time, waiting impatiently for that little running AOL man to enter his successive phase of connectedness. Words like "modem failure" and "inability to connect" haunted us, forcing us to redial and redial until finally we could enter our glorious online community.




At our house, there were three potential modem phone numbers with which to reach the internet, and we'd frantically alternate between our options, forever seeking a signal. It's remarkable to think that just a decade earlier, we were content to wait five minutes to catch even the briefest glimpse of the internet. Nowadays, if a website takes more than three seconds to load we're all about one step away from tossing the laptop out the window. Back then, though, these were different times. More patient times. And of course, more salacious.

No sooner than we'd heard that familiar robotically enthusiastic declaration "You've Got Mail!", we'd be clamoring to reach our favorite chat rooms. As AOL was the premier internet service of the 90s, a good chunk of the online population could be found roaming these virtual spaces. It was a novel concept for the time: you could actually communicate with many people at once! People you didn't know! People who we should trust indefinitely to be telling the truth, the absolute truth, and nothing but the truth!


So help us God, this was probably not the case. Judging how things usually went our own end, it's doubtable that these new virtual pals were honest about any element of their existence other than that they were currently connected to the internet. The original chat rooms were popular online pickup scenes, the equivalent of an internet singles bar. Only, truth be told, all the people in those rooms were probably either under the age of 12 or over the age of 50.

While today a notion like that might raise a red flag or two, these things were chalked up to good, clean fun back then. Well, er, sort of clean. Children delighted in their ability to fool others, though looking back it's unlikely that my friends and I fooled anyone with our fifth grade writing skills and general misunderstanding of innuendos.

From the moment a person asked, "A/S/L", you knew it was on. That is, imploring his chatroommates to give their age, sex, and location. I don't know about you, but this was a great source of fun for my pals and I as children. In one room we could be exotic 18-year old Brazilian twins working to get our modeling careers off the ground while in the next we could easily slip into the guise of a mysterious lonelyhearts Spanish exchange student seeking a nice middle aged office drone to. The possibilities were truly endless.





Sometimes we may have outed ourselves as the 12/Fs we really were, but in general the idea was to fool others into believing the bull we were serving up. I imagine parents everywhere would have been pretty uneasy to find that their young children were being approached online with the request to "cyber", but again, these were different times. Very few people had considered the notion of troubling internet connections, we were too enthralled by its exciting possibilities to see any danger in letting children loose into chatrooms with a slew of card-carrying NAMBLA members and known sex offenders.

In our innocence, though, we were too giddy to be bothered by these facts. These were the days before MySpace, Facebook, or online dating, so people everywhere used this free market chatroom environment to make connections. Users formed full-fledged online relationships with people they had never even met. Sure, in real life you may have been a Dungeons and Dragons playing loner with duct-taped glasses, but online you could be the suave AOL romeo you'd always dreamed of being. Until your potential mate requested a picture, of course. Photographic evidence is a bitch.






The original AOL was a kid's paradise. It's going date us immensely when we someday tell our children of plugging a common search term in a search engine and having zero results, but we'll know that we were the true online pioneers. We knew the thrill of navigating the unknown wildernesses of the internet before firewalls and parental controls and the like neutralized the treacherous terrain. Sure, we may have talked to a pedophile or two, but we lived, dammit. We lived. Well, vicariously through our internet alteregos. But you know what I mean.

Gel Pens

If you have noticed, we over here at Children of the 90s have been pretty caught up in the back-to-school spirit. There's something about fall that brings all of us 90s nostalgianiks right back to our frantic scrambling office-supply store shopping trips. We would all try to use our intuition and summer-accumulated wisdom to buy the most coveted back-to-school items, but there was little way of knowing whether your choice was going to sink or swim in the classroom implement hierarchy. It's a cruel world, and we might as well have learned it at a young age. There's nothing quite like ridicule and public shaming over what we were toting in our pencil cases. It's probably what's turned us into the humble adults we are today.

The problem with school supply trends was that we could hardly look to fashion magazines for our social cues on what to buy. Instead, we had to simply hold our collective breath and hope that whatever we'd haplessly shoved into our OfficeMax carts was the wise choice. Would Yikes Pencils be in or out? Would Clueless's Cher's feather pen still be the highly coveted item of the back-to-school season, or were Troll pencil toppers the way to go? It was enough to etch premature wrinkles into our juvenile brows.

There are, however, some school supplies that spoke for themselves. When we saw them in the store, we simply knew we had to have them. They had a value all their own, not only because they were popular, but because they had real appeal. Not to mention we knew deep down, even from a young age, that if one of these babies would set our parents back $2 a pop versus the fifty cents or so they'd shell out for a regular pen they just had to be great. After all, the pricers wouldn't lie to us. They know real value, and we had to be prepared to pay for it.




Gel pens quickly became a veritable writing implement phenomenon, flooding into middle school desks everywhere with a barrage of metallic colors. These things were legitimately impressive, for school supplies. We had never seen this type of performance before in a pen, nor had we particularly cared when it came in the drab shades of blue and black favored by rival pen producers. Gelly Rolls, though, these things were impressive. Not only did they come in a vast spectrum of visually appealing shiny colors, but they could write on all sorts of surfaces! What more could you ask for?

Sure, our parents were probably less than pleased when we came home with homeroom-drawn gelly roll tattoos graffiti-ing our bodies, but at least it was still a step above opting for permanent ink. My mother unleashed upon me a slew of old-wives' tales of how the ink would permeate my skin and lead to all sorts of terrifying blood poisoning, but I saw right through it. Well, I did at first. My vision started to blur after the fourth or fifth day, now that I think about it. I'm sure it's just a coincidence.

Gel pens had pretty incredible powers, really. For one, they could write on black paper. I know, I know. Maybe I should give a minute to let that sink in. Black paper. Have you ever heard of such a thing? I know I hadn't, until I bought a colored multi-pack that came complete with a pad of black paper. I sat there staring at my new acquisition, thinking, Why, it just can't be. How can a pen write on a piece of black paper? I couldn't quite wrap my head around it, but suffice it to say I was sold. Yearbook signing would never be the same.

There were a few prototypes in particular that particularly astonished, amazed, and amused us. I wrote many an origami-folded note to my friends, imploring them "W/B/S" (write back soon) and declaring my feelings via LYLAS (love ya like a sister). Among the most popular on the market were:

Gelly Roll


These were truly the original impressive gel pen. They were so shiny. Really, just so so shiny. My mind is riddled with mental ADD at the mere thought of them, so just imagine the effect they had on real live kids attempting to take notes with their sparkly, sparkly ink. Ooh, sparkly. I'm sorry, what were we talking about here?



Milky


Though now the name sort of makes me want to vomit, in middle school we were completely enamored with these pastel-hued pens. These things drew on everything, leaving no drawable surface on my body, clothing, and schoolwork untouched by the magic of their soft hues.



Marble Ink


Described by their manufacturers as "a milkshake of colors", these pens were a teacher's worst nightmare. To receive a handwritten essay that gradually shifted from one end of the color spectrum to the next and back again was nothing short of a grading nightmare. Kids were certainly entertained by them, though, so it would take more than simple chastisements to stop us. We had pen rights, dammit, and we were prepared to exercise them, color-induced nausea aside.


Sure, there were a few kinks in the process. Namely, when the inkwell in the pen's core began to go dry, these things were nearly impossible to write with. You'd scratch through your paper just trying to get some color out of it. And don't even get me started on the moments of gel overload. Believe me, these splotches were not pretty. Okay, they were kind of pretty, but that's not the point. It's hard to take an algebra answer seriously when half of the equation is obscured by a giant shimmering pink blob you're forced to turn into a flower to make it less conspicuous.

Regardless of their minor flaws, these babies were golden. And silver. And bronze, and well, you get the idea. My technicolor-dreampen-case was brimming with shimmery, shiny colors and for a brief moment in time, it was enough to hold my attention and entertain me in class. If only I could get as worked up about office supplies now. It's hard to picture me hugging my stapler or spooning with the fax machine, but I'm willing to give it a try. What can I say? I'm a dreamer.