Friends

Rarely does a sitcom become as pervasive and persistently popular as Friends. It maintained a surprisingly consistent level of quality and popularity throusghout its ten-year run, particularly for a show that was based on such a simple premise. As the name implies, the subject matter in question was, put simply, friends. Apparently all it takes is a group of eclectic and mismatched personality types with a penchant for local coffee houses living in unrealistically mammoth and well-decorated Manhattan apartments to hold our attention. Who knew?

Friends's large ensemble cast was a great credit to its success, utilizing six then lesser-known twenty-something actors as principals with relatively equal screen time. So many sitcoms gave us a main character or two with a smattering of conveniently prominent or absent sidekick roles, so it was refreshing to see such a strong balance of multiple main characters. Conceived by David Crane and Marta Kauffman in the early 90s, they sought to explore the lives of young adults making it on their own for the first time in a fast-paced New York setting. Kauffman and Crane teamed up with producer Kevin Bright to develop a show that captured a relatively universal experience of finding oneself post-college.



Tentatively (thankfully) entitled Insomnia Cafe, the trio pitched the show to NBC in late 1993. NBC liked the idea, so the three went to work on their pilot now somewhat less tentatively called Friends Like Us. They also liked the pilot, investing in the series that the creators now called Six of One. Who knew a show could cycle through so many terrible working titles before even going into full-scale production? Especially considering the final choice for title ended up being such a no-brainer. As Chandler Bing might say, "Could it be any simpler?"

That level of simplicity was what sold not only NBC but a vast proportion of the sitcom-viewing public on this fledgling show. The creators' original pitch for show described it as being "[...about sex, love, relationships, careers, a time in your life when everything's possible. And it's about friendship because when you're single and in the city, your friends are your family," giving the premise an open-ended array of endless scenarios, couplings, and experiences for its main characters.

As so many of us children of the 90s are just now coasting through that stage of our lives that Bright, Kauffman, and Crane envisioned as the universal connecting experience to bolster the show's appeal, it's strange to think so many of us were major fans of the show at a point in our life that in no way intersected with that of the major characters. At the time of its premiere in 1994, I was only nine years old, yet somehow my friends and I were convinced we found the show hilarious. More likely is that we initially found it a little bit confusing; a vast proportion of the humor and situations certainly must have gone straight over our heads. It was just so likable, though, that we couldn't help getting caught up in the Friends fervor,

At the time, Ross, Rachel, Monica, Chandler, Phoebe, and Joey seemed like such grown ups to me and my peers, so it's always odd catching an early episode in syndicated rerun and realizing that I'm possibly now as old as or older as they were then. If you never got into it or haven't seen any of the early seasons in a few years, you might want to invest a few hours in doing so. There's a reason the show became such a quick hit: the producers nailed their intended delivery of that universal twenty-something experience. Their pitch about your friends being your family may be a little cheesy, but it also rings true for so many of us at the stage in our life between extended adolescence and responsible parenthood,.

So much of the show's charm lay in the quirkiness and depth of its characters; without their idiosyncratic personalities and strong performances from the cast of comically gifted actors, there would be no show. The majority of the action focused on our six principal characters:

Chandler Bing



The One With All The Sarcasm. Chandler is the resident wise-cracking smartass, always quick to issue a cutting quip or a self-deprecating witticism. He's wound up pretty tightly, though his eventual marriage to Monica gave him a more playful side.



Phoebe Buffay



The One With The Offbeat, Out There Personality. Phoebe not only marched to the beat of her own drummer, she seemed to have invented a new style of drumming entirely. Her singer/songwriter escapades at the local Central Perk coffee shop feature gems like "Smelly Cat", which is indeed about a cat with a less-than-appealing odor. I suppose her eclectic early years on the street could be the source of her general oddity, so all in all she turned out pretty okay.

Rachel Green



The One With the Semi-Reformed Princess Behavior Tendencies. We first meet Rachel in the debut episode as a rain-soaked bride who left her groom at the altar, claiming she was getting married for all the wrong reasons. Once something of a spoiled brat, her reconnection with childhood friend Monica sets on her on, if not a totally straight path, at least a less wavy and more grounded one. Rachel's on-again-off-again with Ross is a major plot point throughout the show's ten-year lifespan.


Monica Gellar



The One With The Serious Neuroses. Monica is as obsessive compulsive and anal retentive as they come, so it's a good thing Courtney Cox managed to make her so charming. The show had originally wanted to cast Cox as Rachel, but she preferred the Monica role and convinced them she could make it her own. Monica is Ross's sister, Rachel's childhood friend, and Chandler's eventual wife. Oh, and she also used to be fat--that's one of the show's favorite retrospective punchlines, often through fat suit technology.


Ross Gellar



The One With the All the Lovable Nerdiness. It takes a special kind of endearingly intellectual guy to not only choose a career path in paleontology but also to bore his friends with the details. Ross's first wife turned out to be a lesbian, though the truth didn't come out until after she became pregnant with his son. Ross excels in karate, is a sometime-monkey daddy, and has compelling evidence that he and Rachel were indeed on a break at that crucial juncture in their relationship.


Joey Tribbiani



The One With Limited Intellectual Capacity. It's okay, he gets all the ladies, so it's really sort of a trade-off. All he has to do was issue a signature, "How you doin'?" and the women were putty in his hands. Joey and Chandler were roommates for a bulk of the sitcom's run, with the two engaging in all sorts of comedic apartment-sharing situations. He is a sometimes-working actor, most notably for his role as Dr. Drake Ramoray on Days of Our Lives. Joey was the only one to get his one spin-off, though I think we all know how that turned out.

Friends kept the writing sharp over its extensive ten-year run, a stretch that would leave many lesser sitcoms grasping at cop-out storylines. That's not to say Friends didn't use its fair share of guerrilla ratings tactics: inane plot twists, surprise couplings, and most notably the end-of-season leave-us-on-the-edge-of-our-seats-and-stick-us-with-three-months-of-reruns-why-don't-you cliffhangers. Those things were brutal. What's that? Ross said Rachel's name instead of Emily's at his wedding? And now we have all summer to contemplate the repercussions? Awesome. I was hoping to work on my tan and read the classics, but now I'm stuck pondering this one for all of my waking hours until it can be resolved in the fall season premiere.

It was all part of the show's signature charm, though. Sure, there was a fair amount of reliance on gimmicks and well-worn sitcom territory, but the cast chemistry and smart writing brought in all together in a new way. If you flip on your TV at any given time of evening or night, you're pretty likely to find Friends still playing on at least three or four different channels in multiple timeslots. It's perseverance in syndication speaks volumes to its impact and success. More importantly, though, it's funny. When so few sitcoms actually make us laugh, it's a legitimate claim to fame to be The One With All of the Good Jokes.

Polly Pocket and Mighty Max

What better toy to give curious young oral fixators than a little compact full of tiny, swallowable, and potentially delicious component pieces? These things were a choking hazard waiting to happen. In some cases, it didn't wait; it just hacked and coughed and received the child-size version of the Heimlich Maneuver. Yech.

Even with the building safety concerns over offering children protozoan-proportioned playthings, Polly Pocket and Mighty Max quickly became some of the most popular toys around. It seemed kids just couldn't get enough of the pocket-sized playsets. A brief choking stint was more than worth it in exchange for a chance to carry around an entire action figure universe in your pocket. I mean, really.

The concept behind Mighty Max and Polly Pocket was roughly the same mold adjusted for preset gender stereotypes. Both play sets featured small plastic cases that opened into a miniature dollhouse or action figure setting. Inside the fun chamber lay a slew of tiny hard plastic figurines and movable set pieces. There were all types of different scenarios and settings, but these toys were generally appealing on the basis of their small-size gimmick.

Unfortunately, their extreme portability made Mighty Max and Polly Pocket pieces extremely prone to loss. At approximately an inch or so in height, these toys were probably too small to be entrusted in the care of small children. Once you lost the main characters, the entire playset was rendered utterly useless until your parents came through with replacements. All in all, probably not the most well thought-out children's toy venture.

Logic aside, these things were hot sellers; their tininess was a novelty on which we couldn't afford to miss out. We could take these things anywhere. It was a pretty creative idea, of course: a dollhouse that fits in your pocket. It's like the doll version of a smartphone. Something that used to be a sedentary activity with a lot of bulky hardware was reduced to a convenient pocket-sized item that works on-the-go. Not totally necessary, but once someone has one we've all got to scramble for ownership.

The premise may have been the same for the Polly Pocket and Mighty Max toys, but the nature of the miniature worlds were vastly different. I was a Polly Pocket girl myself, but after further examination of the Mighty Max product line, I'm feeling just a smidgen underwhelmed with my tiny toy selection. Let's take a quick peek at what Mattel had to offer us, shall we? I think you might get an idea of what I mean.


The girls got this:

With a jazzy theme song like that, how could you deny the allure of these pearlized plastic chambers?

Whereas the boys got this:


Yes, that's right. Your eyes do not deceive you; girls get a little pink seashell-style enclosed dollhouse with a giggly cartoon spokessprite, and boys get a Skull Dungeon. In the boys' version, our hero sends a Frankenstein-esque monster plummeting to his death from the second story of the evil doctor's lair. In the girls', to contrast, our little blond darling gleefully enjoys a ride on a playground slide. Unsurprisingly, the girl version of the toy originated from a dad setting up his daughter with a super sweet makeup compact-cum-dollhouse. The boys' incarnation, we can only speculate, originated from awesome.

It may not have been a politically correct gender divide, but it was pretty standard toy marketing for the 90s. The girls got the vapid but cute dollies and boys get the guts and gore. It was just the natural McDonald's Happy Meal-style female/male breakdown.

That's not to say there was no gender cross-over with these things, though I'd put pretty strong odds that more parents felt comfortable buying Mighty Max toy sets for their daughters than Polly Pocket for their sons. There were also many, many more points of interaction available with the Mighty Max franchise. The Polly Pocket mini playshells may have come first, but the Mighty Max toys branched out into a legitimate mini-media empire.

Mighty Max became an animated TV series in 1993, following the adventures of young "Cap-Bearer" Max. Max receives in the mail a magical hat that granted him the power to transport him all over the world to fight evil in all of its monstrous cartoon incarnations. It had plenty of charm, plus it didn't hurt that Rob Paulsen provided the voice of Max. For those of you unfamiliar with his work, we're talking about the voice of Raphael from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Pinky and Yakko from Animaniacs (and later Pinky and the Brain), and Throttle from Biker Mice from Mars. I know, I know. Throttle. I'll give you a few moments to gather yourself following such exciting animation revelations.



Nintendo subsequently developed the Mighty Max character into a Super Nintendo game, leaving Polly Pocket in the toy empire dust as she languished in her makeup compact-style shell shaped mini-playhouses. Mighty Max had quickly grown into a small-scale multimedia franchise. To be fair, from a Super Nintendo perspective it's way more fun to battle evil zombies than to play quietly with friends in your upstairs nursery. Polly Pocket just didn't have the cross-marketing potential to be developed into a game like this one:




In comparison, the Polly Pocket empire was far more modest. To its credit, though, it ended up the franchise with the most staying power.

So, to review. Girls donned shiny ballerina tutus to hang with Polly, Dana, Stephanie, Billy, Becky in one of these:



And boys fought nuke rangers and neutralized zomboids in one of these:



It may not be a particularly enlightened marketing strategy, but hey, it worked. We all got what we wanted, more or less. In my case, I'm tempted to say less. I could have battled the killer T-Rex in the dino lab. Instead, I lost valuable formative hours revealing wrapped stuffed animals in Polly's Party-Time Surprise. Yes, that's right; I might have ended up with aspirations to be an adventure-seeking archeologist, but instead I learned the value of always bringing a well-wrapped birthday present with a shimmery bow. Reach for the stars.

Children of the 90s' Pop Girl Group Playlist

If you're looking to beat those Oh-My-God-How-Is-It-Still-Not-The-Weekend-Yet blues, look no further than this 90s pop girl group playlist. Alternately, it can also serve as a soothing remedy for those pesky post St. Paddy's Day hangovers. If you keep the volume very, very low, I mean.

The 90s is so often characterized as major era of boy bands, but the decade saw more than its fair share of wildly popular girl groups as well. They operated largely on the same principles: nonorganic formation through open casting calls, careful harmony arrangements, synchronized dancing moves galore. Whatever beef you may have with their impact on the legitimate singer/songwriter/musician profession, you've got to admit that they churn out some toe-tapping singles. One of these songs comes on and there's a pop-and-lock reflex we succumb to; I'm pretty sure I picked it up subliminally from my days of shaking to Darrin's Dance Grooves on VHS.

So throw your cautious music taste to the wind and give in to these guilty pleasures. They'll undoubtedly have you singing along at the top of your voice. Just don't make the mistake of leaving your car windows down--these are more than sure bets to induce all sorts of music superiority-gloating glances from your judgmental roadmates.


Wannabe (Spice Girls)


Spice Girls - Wannabe
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Ah, the classic. If by classic you mean gratingly shrill, then it's a perfect fit. Truthfully, you can criticize this song all you want but you'd be hard-pressed to find someone who grew up in the 90s who doesn't know all or most of the lyrics. It was just a pervasive part of popular youth culture, so you might as well embrace it. I heard if you do they'll treat you to a zig-a-zig-ah, so you've got that going for you.


Say My Name (Destiny's Child)



Remember when Beyonce wasn't just the leotard-donning star of the infamous Kanye-approved "Single Ladies" video or the cameo in Gaga's "Telephone?" With all her recent success, it's easy to forget that she's been in the game for so many years. Not just in the game, but winning it; this girl's been a part of more number-one hits than most musicians can aspire to in a lifetime. In the 90s, the Beyonce-fronted Destiny's Child released single after hot single. Admittedly their lineup changed over the years, but whoever was showing up at the studio that day always brought it.


Where my Girls At (702)



Whatever happened to 702? With the incredible popularity of their single "Where My Girls At" they seemed poised to be the next up-and-coming girl group. As unbelievable as it sounds, the group was discovered by Sinbad. I know, I know. I don't even mean the adventuring Middle Eastern sailor of legendary lore; that would almost make more sense. No the actor/comedian Sinbad caught these girls singing in the lobby of a Vegas hotel, went and chummed up with their parents to grant him rights to drag them to a music show in Atlanta, and the rest, as they say, was history. Really, really weird history.


My Lovin (You're Never Gonna Get It) (En Vogue)


Try to listen to this song without breaking into a lightly treaded backup of "No, you're never gonna get it/never never gonna get it." It's nearly impossible. Would you expect anything less from a group whose album is titled "Funky Divas"?


C'est La Vie (B*Witched)



Just look at those moves! They just don't cut girl groups from the same cheesy pop-and-lock choreography cloth that they used to. Enjoy this one in the true traditional spirit of St. Patrick's Day: drunk. No, no, actually you can just enjoy their bagpipe solo. Yes, really.


I Want You Back (Jackson 5 cover by Cleopatra)



I know, I know...I just as easily could have chosen their "Cleopatra--Coming Atcha" theme, but that seems like the easy way out. Plus, I still have this on all of my running and car trip playlists. This 1998 cover of their song "I Want You Back" may not have been as authentic as the Jackson 5 original, but it manages to capture the same breezy tone and catchiness. And hey, look on the bright side. I could have subjected you to Cleopatra's "Thank ABBA for the Music." Then we'd really be in trouble.*


Never Ever (All Saints)



As far as lengthy intros go, this is one of the most extensive. It's not even really an intro anymore--they may well have made it into a full spoken track, it's that long. It really builds anticipation for the main event, though, doesn't it? You just can't wait to find out what happens next. Spoiler alert: they sing.

If that just doesn't do it for you, maybe their debut "I Know Where It's At" will do it for you. I know it's left me scratching my head over what exactly happened to all those old mix tapes with this song on it. This used to be my jam in my maroon station wagon:




Waterfalls (TLC)



Many of us probably could enjoy this song a bit more in our blissful ignorance of young naivete; nowadays, we're forced to confront its message of drugs, violence, and irresponsible sexual behavior. In lieu of letting the cautionary tale get us down, maybe we should just watch the video and enjoy these girls grooving on the water. It's pretty cool, actually.


He Loves U Not (Dream)



This song came up on shuffle on my iPod the other day and I almost had a heart attack. How have I managed not to mention this song somewhere on this blog in the year it's been up and running? Granted, it technically came out in 2000, but it's just quintessential 90s girl group pop. Contrived, well-executed, and complete with a video full of colorfully dressed jailbait popping their heads back and forth in a sassy, in-your-face way.


No More (3LW)



This was also in 2000, so we were starting moving into a bit of a different sound. The general girl group principles still apply though, right down to the cutesy lisp in the first verse. 3LW cleverly stands for "3 Little Women," who didn't stay little too long. Like all good girl groups, their story ends in some petty squabbling that escalated into we-can-no-longer-appear-onstage-together level girlfights.


Push It (Salt N Pepa)



Just look at them pop in the VHS at the beginning of the video. Kids growing up today wouldn't even understand what's going on. A scary thought, right? My favorite part, though, is probably when they cut to a Girl Scout rockin' out in the crowd somewhere around 1:12. She looks all hopped up on Thin Mints and Samoas and she likes it. Thankfully she at least looks old enough to be audience to the racy lyrics. Whew.


Like all guilty pleasures, these songs should be enjoyed sparingly and as a part of a balanced musical diet featuring artists who play their own instruments. That said, there's no harm in occasionally venturing to the musical equivalent of the top corner of the food pyramid. The experience will likely be just as sweet and with comparable levels of artificial ingredients.




*Is it wrong to admit that I also have "Thank ABBA for the Music" on my iPod? Feel free to judge me, but I'll feel equally free to tell you it's awesome. Well, maybe not awesome, but at least serviceable. Okay, okay, fine. It might make your ears explode. Happy?

Jumanji

You know how we sometimes say we'll look back on a dark time in our life and laugh in retrospect? Well, such was the case with the 1995 film version of Jumanji. How were we to know that a dozen odd years later, the CGI animals that had so terrified us and had induced endless nightmares would seem like cuddly Disney animations in comparison to today's true-to-life graphics?

Facetiousness aside, the effects in the film absolutely deserve their due. At the time, Jumanji utilized some of the most advanced CGI technology available. Sure, the visual effects cower in the shadow of more recent digital imagery trailblazers like Avatar, but in the mid-90s that level of realism was almost unfathomable. In the three years between Jurassic Park and Jumanji, I probably slept a total of 12 hours. Heck, even Men in Black gave me nightmares, so just imagine the damage that could be done with a computer-animated stampede of rhinocerouses charging across my screen. Had 3-D technology been available for this movie, I'd have been a goner.

Jumanji originated as a 1981 children's book by Chris Van Allsburg, serving as a sort of cautionary for what can happen when magic-tinged board games go very, very wrong. The 1995 film version adhered largely to the same story, though it did introduce some colorful new grown-up characters like Robin William's wacky woodsman Alan Parrish. The movie tries its best to give us a legitimate backstory for a fantasy tale as it weaves a yarn filled with arbitrary details like a shoe factory, a bully, and a bicycle. If you're not scratching your head yet at this movie-built premise, don't worry: you will be.



To his credit, Robin Williams makes a great man-child. It's what he did best in the 90s, so he was a pretty natural casting choice for the role of Alan Parrish. The movie begins in the 19th century as we watch a pair of fear-stricken young boys bury an ominous looking chest deep in the woods. When one asks the other what happens if someone digs it up, his pal replies darkly, "May God have mercy on his soul." How's that for a bright and cheery beginning?

Fast forward to the late 60s, where middle schooler Alan Parrish faces daily lashings at the hand of a school bully. Alan meddles a bit in production at his father's shoe factory and causes some shake-up. To make matters worse, he gets beat up outside the factory and his bike is stolen by the aforementioned bullies. Just when he thinks his day couldn't sink any further into the annals of adolescent desperation, Alan stumbles upon a dusty drum beat-emitting game box at a construction site.



Alan's father is displeased with him and wants to send him to boarding school, so in typical rational well-thought out childlike fashion, Alan decides to run away. Not, though, before laying into the mysterious game he unearthed earlier that day. Alan's classmate Sarah comes over with his stolen bicycle and the two embark on a game of Jumanji. It's totally creepy, but the kids are getting really into it. When it's Alan's turn, a frightening message appears on the game board: "In the jungle you must wait, until the dice read five or eight." He's then unceremoniously sucked into the veritable vacuum of the Jumanji world, presumably never to be seen again.




Until, that is, a new family moves into the house a quarter century later. Peter and Judy (Kirsten Dunst) are recent orphans on the move with their new guardian, Aunt Nora, but even newcomers like them can sense this house is incredibly sketchy and potentially haunted. Those damned drumbeats start again, reissuing their generation-spanning intoxicating pull over children. Judy and Peter come across the Jumanji board in the attic, and although it's pretty clear to the rest of us that this is the worst idea in the world, they immediately begin playing. I'm not sure why ominous drum beats never seemed like a warning sign to anyone in this movie, only an invitation. Go figure.

As you might expect, things quickly take a turn for the frightening and fantastical. Giant insects and roaming animals take up shop in their home, but the board swears to them it'll all be cool if they just keep playing. Right. Peter rolls a five and Alan's late-60s prophecy is broken, releasing the jungle man back into the civilized confines of his former dwelling. Oh, and there's also a lion. Did I not mention the lion? Because it is terrifying. Even now, it still scares me a little. That thing is growly.



Alan cleans up a bit and does some investigating into his old life, finding that his father searched relentlessly for him throughout the remainder of his life. Now that Peter and Judy have released havoc on their sleepy New Hampshire town, they can't seem to keep the game moving; the board seemingly issues a cease and desist on their gameplay, leaving us to fear this lion-infested world is the new permanent norm. Alan realizes that they've been playing a continuation of the game he played with his friend Sarah, so they go off to seek her out. How exactly a man who was sequestered to the jungle at 12 had such powerful deductive reasoning skills is beyond my grasp, but in a world where gameboards release swarms of killer mosquitoes it seems that anything can happen.

The gang head's over to Sarah's and discover she's become a shut-in, forever reliving the trauma of her Jumanji experience. I'm sure the one thing this Jumanji-traumatized lady wants to do is pick up playing right where she left off and cut her nearly-healed psychological wounds right back open again. Sarah (Bonnie Hunt) is not having it, so they are forced to trick her into playing her turn.



Alan reaches out to Carl, the man his father fired from his factory for Alan's mistake. Carl (David Alan Grier) is now a policeman and is thus pulled in to all of this havoc-wreaking chaos on the town. Here's where things get all sorts of terrifying. We get a full big game jungle stampede, people-snatching giant vines, a long-trapped hunter, and a batty pelican that interferes with their quest to finish the game once and for all. Peter tries to cheat and turns into a monkey, which is a pretty harsh means of teaching kids to practice good sportsmanship. Giant flowers eat police cars, the kids battle the hunter, and things continue to spiral downward at a rapid code red pace.



Our man Alan finally takes the game and cries out with the requisite "Jumanji!" All of the craziness gets sucked back into the game board. After all that scariness, this movie partakes in the ultimate reset button function and sets us all back at zero. Sarah and Alan get to return to 1969 and set everything right. Alan tells his father what he did to Carl, and Mr. Parrish rehires him. Plus, Alan doesn't have to go to boarding school and the Jumanji board is forever buried in the water. Hooray!



Time scoots forward yet again and Alan and Sarah are happily married. As if all of that wrong-righting hadn't been enough, these do-gooders convince Peter and Judy's now still-living parents (did you follow that?) not to take what Alan knew to be their ill-fated skiing trip. I just knew there had to be some impact on that darned space-time continuum.



As we come to end, we find that Jumanji has not, as presumed, been laid to rest. We get our scary drum beats again, and some French girls walking along the beach are mere feet away from the game washed up upon their shore. Just when you thought it was safe, they pull the rug from under you, leaving us to speculate the future terrors that lie ahead in a world where computer animation has grown not only more advanced but progressively more realistically frightening. Yikes.

Together at Last--They Finally Did It (AKA TV Shows that Eventually Alleviated Crucial Plot-Centric Romantic Tensions)

Will they or won't they? It's a classic sitcom cliche that keeps us as viewers hungry for more romantically tense moments between principal characters. Any current fan of The Office can certainly attest to the deflating plot cycle that accompanies the realization of a will-they-or-won't-they couple: once Jim and Pam got together, the mystery and intrigue of their friendship dissipated quickly into mundane territory. If the writers opt to resolve the major underlying plotline, it can be tough to come up with material that will appeal to fans on an equal level to that of unresolved sexual tension.

In many cases, the answer to the infamous "Will they or won't they" question turns out to be yes, leading to one of two options. In some cases, the writers may get it just right and time their suppressed romantic unions at either the end of the series or as a natural climax of a story arc. More often, though, the show veers into distinct shark-jumping territory, proving that the picture of reality can never measure up to that of the viewer's fantasy. We're all rooting for the subjects of the unresolved romantic tension to live happily ever after, but when we get to see it for ourselves we realize that there's a reason many fairy tales cut off at this point. It's a bit boring to watch two people who were once witty and interesting devolve into a happy but generally mundane couple. If we want to see people trade in their excitement for marriage and kids, we could just look to real life. It just can't sustain the same level of interest.

Love it or hate it, these shows eventually gave these would-be couples their due. Whether it culminated in an Era of TV Good Feelings or left us a bit cold, at least we got our answer to "Will they or won't they?" In all of these cases, apparently, they will.


Ross and Rachel



Here's a sitcom that shows us how to do the romantic tension story arc right. As long as Friends was on the air, it's shocking they managed to draw out the uncertainty over the scope of ten seasons. If executed poorly, this could have caused a major backlash from viewers, but the writers played it well enough to keep fans on their toes. Ross and Rachel were pretty persistent; even having a baby together wasn't enough to dissolve their tension. In the series finale, the couple finally gets their moment in the sun. After arguing over whether or not they had been on a break or not, of course. What would they be without their quintessential schtick?


Joey and Dawson



Remember, if you can think back this far, to a time before Katie Holmes was some repressed silent-birthing Scientologist mommy. Way back, back to when she was Joey on Dawson's Creek, epitomizing the girl next door prototype. Joey and Dawson were best friends, but their eventual coupling proved the old When Harry Met Sally adage about opposite sex friendships to be true. These two had an on-again-off-again sort of thing going throughout the seasons. They were together, then they weren't, then they were, then they sort of were, then...well, you get the idea. Repeat ad infinitum.


Sam and Diane



What fun is a sitcom without all of the sharp witty banter? Apparently not much, based on the way our once dagger-tongued Cheers were reduced to cuddly bunnies as they succumb to romance. The show managed to hold its audience even with the realized romance, though the eventual recreated "Will they or won't they" scenario of Sam and Rebecca failed to measure up to the tension of the original.


Fran and Maxwell



So much of The Nanny's charm was in the sassy quick-witted banter between boss Maxwell Sheffield and nanny Fran Fine, a tension that the writers managed to uphold for the better part of five seasons before caving to the temptation of uniting the subjects of their unresolved sexual tension. At this point, everything sort of unravels, eventually culminating in the sixth season ridiculousness of CC and Niles' wedding and Fran giving birth to Maxwell's twins.


David and Maddie



Moonlighting was a bit before my time, but I just can't in good conscience leave out the classic example. When Maddie and David break through their tension in the second season and consummate their romance, the show went into a steep decline. Producers gave a last-ditch effort to recreate the mystery by haphazardly marrying Maddie off to some random guy in the final season, but their efforts were to no avail. Between that and the fact that Cybil Shepherd's scenes had to be shot in advance due to her pregnancy, the once boiling-over chemistry of the costars eventually cooled to a tepid standstill.


Daphne and Niles



If we learned anything from Frasier, it's that it's tough to maintain a steady high quality of plot writing over 11 seasons. The romantic tensions between Daphne and Niles had been building for several seasons, but the writers tried to throw us off the scent with Daphne's engagement and near-miss wedding to Donny. Daphne and Niles were such lovable characters largely on the basis of their respective eccentricities, many of which traits had to fall by the wayside for the two to form a healthy and compatible relationship. That's all well and good for some, but I'm just not willing to sacrifice endearing craziness in the name of late-season desperate ratings ploys.


Whether you were satisfied with these unions or were left wanting more, the shows sought to give us what they thought we wanted. For better or worse, they gave us an easy answer to once-mysterious "Will they or won't they?" scenario that had so entertained us throughout the series' run. It just goes to show, be careful what you wish for. You just might get canceled.

Sweet Valley High

It's no wonder those of us who grew up in the 80s and 90s possess the capacity to believe anything can happen: reading Sweet Valley High novels inevitably left us with a severe case of overactive imagination. Extensive exposure to a gang of supposedly normal teenagers who battle werewolves, date princes, and are hunted relentlessly by sociopathic identical strangers have worn down our collective sense of normalcy and common sense. Throw in some far-fetched ancestral sagas that incestuously implicate the same families for generations and we've got a full-fledged defense for our willingness to believe the ridiculous.

For teen girls coming of age in the 80s and 90s, Jessica and Elizabeth Wakefield seemed the adolescent prototype to which we could aspire. At the time, I was sure two more perfect people had ever existed. I fancied myself something as a Jessica, favoring clothes and makeup to being a boring stick-in-the-mud, but I was certain both girls were paragons of our generation. Only in retrospect (and with the incredibly detailed and hilarious recounts found in Shannon's Sweet Valley High blog) have I realized that my initial perceptions were a bit skewed.

It all seemed okay back when our good friends in Sweet Valley were our peers in age, but as they remain frozen in time, our more adult retrospective look at them can fairly be more than a bit critical. The more I reflect on my former fictional teen idols, the more I realize how insufferably irritating the two-dimensional twins are. What I once thought of as a characterization polarized between social butterfly and quiet serious one turned out to be a divide of selfish brat and sanctimonious prude. Kind of a bummer, right?



In spite of this late-in-the-game revelation about the twins' less than savory personality traits, Sweet Valley High still holds a special place in my heart. It can't be all bad, of course--these books encouraged young girls to read, didn't they? Sure, they may not have been as entrepreneurial and wholesome as The Babysitters' Club series, but they had an indescribable charm. When you consider the bulk of the series was penned by ghostwriters too ashamed to publicly attach their names to these projects, it could have been a lot worse. I'm not totally sure how, but use your imagination. Like I said, it's a gift from growing up Sweet Valley-obsessed, so use it wisely.

The books were supremely cheesy in a way typical of adolescent-directed fiction, but they also represent a sort of innocence of the era that becomes less believable of teenagers with each passing year. That's not to say teenagers were uniformly squeaky-clean, but the characters seem far more at home forever frozen in their 80s and 90s setting. After all, these days, many of their book-long conflicts could probably be solved with a text message or a quick Google search.

Let's meet our cardboard cast of characters, shall we?

Elizabeth Wakefield


The aforementioned sanctimonious prude, Elizabeth is continually characterized as the "good" one. So good, in fact, that she exudes self-satisfied moral superiority at every turn. Elizabeth is unrelentingly kind and caring, which makes her tireless devotion to her ethically inferior identical twin sister all the more baffling. She wears her hair in a ponytail, which in 80s and 90s teen literature is the only known symbol for being The Serious One. Like her sister, Elizabeth possesses an combination of blonde hair, blue-green eyes, and an enviable size-six figure, a fact upon which every single book in the series insists on dwelling frequently and creepily.


Jessica Wakefield



Like the books say, the twins may be physically identical, but all resemblances end there. Jessica is the opposite of Elizabeth in every way, namely on the caring and kindness front. Jessica is conceited, conniving, and ruthless in her pursuits of all things Jessica. She's well-liked and popular, which makes sense in a high school kind of way. Jessica's major interest seems to be coming up with schemes and dragging Elizabeth into the fiery bottomless pit of her moral vacuum.


Ned, Alice, and Steven Wakefield

See, even Wakefields make mistakes! Jessica totally thinks Steven and Cara should get married and...well, maybe you should just read it for yourself, but I promise, it's ridiculous

Would you expect anything less than a picture-perfect family for our identical young ingenues? Their family was painstakingly perfect from their lawyer father to their interior designer mother, with a handsome California-boy brother thrown in for good measure. Their glossy veneer of flawlessness cracked occasionally, but the books had a pretty good sense of the reset button, always leaving the family intact and cheek-achingly happy.


Todd Wilkins



On-again-off-again romantic interest of Elizabeth, so you know he's got to be just a little bit boring. He's athletic and smart, but he's also a total drama queen. Todd and Elizabeth get into the most ridiculous incessant fights. I thought she was supposed to be the level-headed one, but turns out she's a bit more of a teenage girlcliche than she initially looked to be.

Lila Fowler



Jessica's best friend, Lila is a stuck-up heiress who for some reason was always my favorite. She just tells it like it is, and usually it's kind of mean and revolving around herself. Lila and Jessica are allegedly good friends, but they spend pretty much all of their time trying to undermine the other's social status.


Enid Rollins



Liz's best friend and resident stick-in-the-mud. She's such a sad sack sometimes you've got to wonder how even someone as nice as Elizabeth can deal with her in large doses. Enid just exudes nebishness from every freckled pore, so God help us for those rare instances of having to plow through an Enid-centric storyline.


These books often read like mini soap operas, with equally unbelievable story arcs. When the series was optioned for television, the producers did not disappoint us on the absurd storyline front. We had girls lapsing into comas and getting kidnapped at every turn.



The lyrically challenged theme song implores us to consider, "Could there be two different girls who look the same?" It's a tough question, but all signs appear to point to yes in the case of the Wakefield twins. The TV series ran mainly on FOX syndicates for its first few seasons, after which it was booted to UPN and was subsequently canceled due to plummeting ratings. Like the books, the show was something of a guilty pleasure and could only sustain our interest for so long. As the books' major audience began to age out of the teen fiction market, the days of both the show and the book series were numbered.

Don't worry, today's young girls won't be deprived of their once-requisite Wakefield exposure. The books were recently issued a re-release, featuring updated cultural references and wardrobe choices. Incidentally, the writers also demoted J and E from their once-perfect size 6 to the now-perfect size 4. How positively enlightened. If that's not enough to tide you over, there are reputable rumors of a Diablo Cody-headed SVH film project.Hopefully we can carry on with our normal lives in the midst of the brewing suspense over casting decisions.



Don't forget to check out Shannon's Sweet Valley Blog for your daily dose of SVH! This is a totally unpaid, unsolicited endorsement offered only out of my extreme reverence for Shannon's awesome and diligent recapping. She deserves major kudos for getting through all of these books again--I'm not sure I could do it, though I have lost countless afternoons at the office to reading these recaps. Amazing.

Child Stars Gone....Good?

Image via www.wolfgnards.com

In the midst of the tragedy of Corey Haim's apparent overdose, there's been a lot of speculation out there about child stars "gone bad." The public is endlessly fascinated by watching our favorite fresh-faced young child actors crash and burn in a frenzy of drinking and drug use. Perhaps it's our naturally voyeuristic spirit, but we just can't seem to get enough of these stories that warrant a VH1 voiceover guy intoning humorlessly, "He had everything, and he threw it all away." It seems the price of fame is often paid in a lifetime of indebtedness to a cuteness and innocence they can never recapture as an adult.


But what about those child stars who went the straight and narrow? Certainly there are some child actors out there who went on to become doctors, lawyers, or even non-drug using celebrities? While the temptation to go the Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? route is undeniably tempting, some of the actors we knew and love as children have managed to pull it together and lead relatively normal lives. You know, if your normal life still involved being accosted by now-grown-but-still-screechy devoted fans. They've got to be out there.

Turns out, they are. Just because their once banked-upon child cuteness factor plummets as they grow older doesn't automatically mean they're doomed for a life of listless unhappiness and sporadic drug binges. Some of them get it together with a successful show biz career, while others grow into an unrecognizable version of their celebrity child selves and can walk freely among us as common citizens.

Natalie Portman


Portman first caught mainstream public attention for her roles in Anywhere but Here and the Star Wars prequels, establishing herself as a formidable child actress. She must also have been a formidable student, as she went on to study psychology at Harvard, even serving as Alan Dershowitz's research assistant. Portman has since been heavily involved in environmental and political affairs, proving that she's more than just a tiny pretty face.

Mayim Bialik



Oh, Blossom. You were poised to be such a star, and then you seemed to vanish from the show biz radar entirely. She was so likable in her eponymous role in Blossom, it's not a stretch to imagine her down-to-earthness translated into her real life. Bialik was accepted to both Harvard and Yale but chose to attend UCLA, pursuing a bachelor's in neuroscience, Hebrew, and Jewish studies and later a PhD in neuroscience. As Joey Russo would say, whoa.


Tina Majorino



In the 90s, we knew Majorino for her roles in Corinna, Corinna and Andre, though you may more recently recognize from Big Love, Veronica Mars, and Napoleon Dynamite. Despite her recent dabblings in the biz, she's stayed low key to a point she refers to as the "anti-Lohan."


Anna Paquin



After watching Tatum O'Neil's downward spiral following her childhood Oscar win, it's natural we'd be a bit wary of the future of other children Academy Award recipients. Paquin won her Best Supporting Actress award for The Piano at age 11 and went on to smoothly transition from child actor to adult actor with a steady line of work. I just knew that girl had a good head on her shoulders; I sensed it from when I saw her in Fly Away Home. I would totally trust her to regulate my migration patterns.


Fred Savage, Josh Saviano, Danica McKellar






Let's give a hand to the good people behind The Wonder Years, shall we? These people really knew how to pick 'em. How else do you explain the mostly quiet but relatively normal success of the show's main child stars? Saviano became a lawyer, McKellar a hot mathematician, and Savage went on to mostly behind-the-scenes work. We may not totally be able to forgive him for bringing us Daddy Day Care, but overall this group's alright.


Jeff B. Cohen



I know, I know, the name might not be familiar, but this guy was "Chunk" from The Goonies. He's come a long way since the Truffle Shuffle--he's now an attorney and was named one of the top 35 entertainment executives under 25 by the Hollywood Report.


Neil Patrick Harris



What else would you expect from child prodigy Doogie Howser, MD? Harris has gone on to prove that you can have it all, including an incredibly successful sitcom career, hilarious self-mocking movie cameos, and intro-ing the Oscars vis-a-vis a huge over-the-top musical number. He's also gone on to become a role model for openly gay mainstream actors. Well done, Dr. Howser.


Larisa Oleynik


We may not have expected much from her academically as Bianca in 10 Things, but it turns out Oleynik was secretly more of a Kat in real life. Oleynik attended Sarah Lawrence College, graduating in 2004. I always suspected she was more of a Dawn from The Babysitter's Club than a Bianca, in which case it all adds up pretty well.


Jonathan Taylor Thomas


Jonathan Taylor Thomas was a bona fide teen heartthrob in the 90s, so imagine our surprise to find JTT wasn't all that into the limelight, opting to enroll in college in lieu of continuing on his Tiger Beat-heavy career path. Oh JTT, how little we knew ye. So little, in fact, that many of us had no clue his real name is Jonathan Taylor Weiss. JTW just don't have the same ring to it, though, does it?


Joseph Gordon-Levitt



One of the lucky to smoothly transition from successful child actor to successful teen actor to successful adult actor. He even managed to attend Columbia somewhere in between. Plus, he finally found a haircut that suited him. Very impressive stuff.


Charlie Korsmo

You know, that kid from Hook and the nerdy revenge-seeking kid from Can't Hardly Wait? He went on to pursue a degree in physics froms MIT, graduate Yale Law, and make good as a Young Republican. Not too shabby.


These grown up child stars are living proof that the kids can turn out all right after all. It's comforting to know that not all child stars are headed on an inevitable downward trajectory. Some of them are doing just fine. More than fine, really; many have managed to sustain their level of initial success. The rest of us should only be so lucky.

We Miss Our Discontinued Candy: Bygone Sweets

It probably doesn't bode especially well for our generation that we can get all wistful and misty-eyed over some nutritionally void sugar-laden snacks, but sometimes we just can't help ourselves in these matters. It's tragic in its own small way that today's children will never taste the glorious sugary sweets that so sustained us in our youth. By "sustained" of course I mean it kept our hyperactivity level off the charts and kept our dentists' respective children in expensive sneakers. What? It's a valid interpretation of sustenance, given you accept that these treats served no real nourishing purpose.

You just don't know what you have till it's gone. For a brief, fleeting period these sugary snacks enticed us with their off-the-charts sweetness. Like all good things, though, our love affair with these candies were forced to come to a bitter end. For many of us, we didn't even realize these sweets no longer graced our grocery store shelves until it was too late. Had I been alerted of the impending discontinuation, I would have stocked up on Hershey's Tastations before it was too late.



Mintaburst/Cinnaburst/Fruitaburst Gum



You name the flavor, this gum was a'burstin' with it. Unfortunately, it bursts no more. The burst in question was a mysterious compound of so-called "flavor crystals," which seems to be some sort of code for "gritty hard pieces in your gum that are kind of gross but also ripe with flavor."

Astropop



When I think of what the ideal adjective for describing a favorite candy is, "stabby" usually ranks pretty close to the top of the list. Any candy that can double as weaponry is okay in my book. That book, of course, is called "Lollipop Swords: Beginning Swashbuckling for Youngsters." Look for it coming soon to a bookstore near you.

These things were pure sugar, which from a child's perspective is the be-all-end-all of attractive candy characteristics. Astrioios unfailingly stained our lips and tongues, but this should have been the least of our parents' concerns. The most, of course, being that it was possible to lick the Astropop into a finely tuned dagger and inflict multiple puncture wounds onto our siblings on car trips. Ouch.



Tastetations


Mmmm....Tasteations. These things were creamy hard candy goodness with the Hershey's chocolatey seal of approval thrown in for good measure. Sure, you might feel like a crotchety little old lady carrying around hard candies in your pockets, but the taste made it well worth the minor image sacrifice. Apparently Hershey's first-ever hard candy just wasn't enough to hold our attention--their heyday was pretty short-lived.



Carefree Gum



How, I ask you, are we supposed to adequately sprinkle Clueless movie quotes into everyday situations when the cultural context has cruelly been discontinued? I'm referring, of course, to Cher's impassioned tirade against gym class in which she claims she barely burned off the calories in a stick of Carefree Gum.

By the way, that above commercial is actually pretty funny. Kudos to Milli Vanilli for taking the low road after their incredibly embarrassing lip-syncing debacle. You know what I always say: if you can't make fun of yourself in a gum commercial, you just can't make fun of yourself.



Gatorade Gum



Also known as GatorGum, this sports-themed chewing gum had it heyday in 70s and 80s and enjoyed a brief revival in the late 90s. When I think sports and quenchiness, I don't typically jump immediately to gum, but hey, it worked.

I know the commercial is a bit dated for what we usually post around here, but it's just so funny I couldn't resist. It's cheesy in a way that advertising just can't get away with anymore. "Active people are discovering the gum that's different!" (Man in sweatband crosses finish line) "Now you can lick...dryyyyyy mouth" (Sweatbanded man opens mouth to reveal a camel and some sand). Brilliant.



Dinosaur Eggs



These egg-shaped jawbreakers from the Wonka candy company came in individual boxes, which misled us to believe we could consume them in a single sitting. These things were huge, plus some of them had the added licking obstacle of the Dinosour taste.



Lifesavers Holes



If you ever wondered what they do with all the leftover cutouts at the Lifesavers factory, look no further than the briefly popular "Holes" candy pieces. It doesn't get much lazier than this. "Hey, you know those extra candy pieces we already have but usually toss in the trash?" "Yes?" "We should totally sell them." "Sounds like a plan. Let's give them a kind of gross sounding but fitting name." "Done and done."



Mars Bars (US)



These have been unavailable in the US (despite a steady supply abroad) for nearly ten years. I've heard a rumor, though, that they've been relaunched. If this is true, I'm off to devour one now. These things are awesome. One might even say out of this world. Ba dum ching!



Butterfinger BBs



Who better to take candy advice from than the man himself, Bartholomew J. Simpson? This kid knew his stuff. These have since been discontinued, so the best we can do now is chop up a bunch of butterfingers into small circular pellets and simulate the experience at the movies. Somehow, it just isn't the same.



Crispy M&Ms



Yet another bygone product from our pals at M&Ms. It seems every couple of years or so, they come up with some variation on the classic. The crispy kind had a sort of Nestle Crunch style popped rice inside. They were equal parts satisfying crunch and tastiness, though many of us failed to realize their deliciousness till it was too late.



Tearjerker's Gum


Do you love being tortured by sour candies? Instead of just enduring its presence in your mouth, do you prefer to chew the heck out of it for an extended period of time? Well, then you're in luck. Or at least you were if you grew up in the 90s. These may still be available in limited



Hershey's Cookies and Mint Candy Bar

Just when they come up with something I really adore, they pull it from the market. It's just my luck. This bar was magnificent--milk chocolate, oreo-type coookie bits, mint flavoring...it had it all. And it was not, as the package implied, green. Thank goodness.



This post has made me pretty hungry, which is unfortunate as all of these products are no longer available in safe sell-by date form. We may no longer be able to enjoy them, but at least we have our memories. Sigh. Oh, and if any of you knows where to find these, by all means, please share with the class.

She's All That

What happens when you take a handful of teen movie tropes and cliches and roll them all into a conveniently packaged single film? Why, you end up with legions of devoted teenage fans a bunch of grumbling and crotchety grown-up film critics, of course. Teen movies like She's All That serve to prove that the divide between teenagers and adults is still alive and kicking. Or, more accurately, alive and breaking spontaneously into over-the-top song and dance numbers set to Fatboy Slim's "Rockafella Skank." Either way, the reactions just don't add up.

In every film-producing generation, adolescents flock to schmaltzy coming-of-age teen flicks that continually leave most adult viewers scratching their heads. It's a bit ironic, of course, that these films are invariably produced and dictated by roomfuls of adults who seek to crack the code of youth culture. They manage to convince us that the story they're telling is indicative of the plight of young people, despite the fact that the only young people involved played no role in the creative decision-making process. Savvy adults issued the call and we 90s teens and tweens were more than happy to answer.

All youth cultural analysis aside, She's All That swiftly ascended to the rank of widely accepted canonical teen movie. That is, mainstream teenagers in the 90s absolutely ate this film up. I mean, really, would you expect anything less from the director who went on to spearhead projects like From Justin to Kelly? Its monumental success was practically inscribed.

She's All That is loosely based on George Bernard Shaw's 1913 play Pygmalian, the same play that formed the basis of the 1956 Broadway musical My Fair Lady. In case you didn't follow that, the movie was a reinvention of a play based on an older play based on a Cypriot myth, only to later be remade into a musical play that was later made into a movie. That's right, we just can't get enough of these I-bet-I-can-make-that-social-outcast-chick-passably-popular productions.

They teach us such valuable and morally astute life lessons, it's no wonder we like them so much. For example, from She's All That I gleaned that beneath the surface of every pretty girl wearing glasses lies a pretty girl not wearing glasses. I'm going to go out a limb here, but it seemed the message has been diluted just a bit since the Pygmalian story debuted as an ancient Cypriot myth.



BMOC Zack (Freddie Prinze Jr.) is one of the top-performing students in his class, also boasting class presidency and several sports team captainships. He is, of course, also dating the most gorgeous girl in school. Or at least, he was, until she met a self-promoting douchenozzle of a Real World cast member during a Spring Break trip to Daytona. Yes, that's right: Taylor dumps Zack for the dyslexic volleyball player that got voted out of the house. Bummer.

Meanwhile, offbeat social outcast Laney (Rachael Leigh Cook) is classified by her peers as an artsy freak because electrical impulses occasionally run through her brain and she likes to paint. How enlightened.



Zack's buddy Dean bets him that Zack can't turn any girl in the school into the prom queen. It's a pretty quick development, but since our entire plot hinges on it, we've got to go along for the ride. Laney bites it on the pavement right in front of their bet selection panel and thus becomes the chosen one for this twisted though admittedly entertaining high school social experiment.



Laney wants nothing to do with Zack's suspiciously friendly advances, but she just can't say no when he accosts her at work in the falafel shop. She does what any normal girl would do in this situation, which is to invite Zack to accompany her to a quirky performance art piece complete with little blue people and a writhing Alexis Arquette chanting, "Be silent, be still." Naturally, Zack gets invited onstage and improvises a hacky sack-driven expose on the life of a golden boy. Deep.



Zack invites Laney to the beach, everyone suddenly realizes she's incredibly attractive, and she undergoes an impromptu makeover courtesy of Zack's sister. Like in any teen movie, it takes about 3 minutes flat to transform Laney from the sort of ugly duckling you're always hearing about on your Farmville newsfeed to a totally hot swan. Just like real life, right?




We get some Sixpence None the Richer, Laney makes her comic entrance and ta-da! Transformation complete. They head to a party jam-packed with the high school elite and everything seems to be going just great until Zack's ex Taylor publicly humiliates Laney. All of Zack's sister's amateur haircutting skills are no match for Taylor's vicious wrath.

Fast forward a bit and Laney's in the running for prom queen. Dean pulls out all the villainous stops by beating Zack to the punch of asking Laney to the prom. We get our requisite dance number, Zack is the prom king, but all is not well in promland. Dean has plans to put the moves on Laney at a hotel after the dance. Zack hears the news and frantically tries to stop the unfolding of these most unfortunate events.



Laney doges Dean's lecherous advances and Zack eventually catches up with her at her house. He confesses everything, including revelations about the bet and his undoubtedly true love for her, and we all learn a valuable lesson. Especially Zack, who learns that losing a bet means you have to appear nude at graduation in front of the entire commencement crowd.Tough break.




It might not be real life, but we'll take it. So what if Usher never DJed our high school radio station or our classmates never made Greco-Roman mythological style bets about our makeover skills? That's what makes it so entertaining. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to get a professionally-trained dance crew together. I think I just heard the opening beat of "Rockafella Skank."