Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Fruit Stripe Gum


Kids aren't usually the greatest long-term planners. Instant gratification is most likely the only type of satisfaction they know, regardless of the longstanding consequences of their actions. If you ever doubted that kids favor the immediate over the enduring, look no further for evidence than a fluorescent hued-stick of Fruit Stripe Gum. Case in point, the gum offers a mere three minutes of desirable flavor time followed by a persistent output of bland non-flavor for the duration of the chew. But hey, it comes with tattoos. That's got to be some sort of consolation, right?





Fruit Stripe Gum was nothing less than a candy craze, launched in the 1960s but enjoying a serious rejuvenation of popularity throughout the 1990s. The brand and its zebra mascot Yipes are decidedly kid-friendly, luring in children with promises of an enchantingly colorful sugar high. The alluring five juicy flavors drew us in time after time. We never learned, particularly if we'd purchased a rather large pack of the gum. Even though we'd experienced multiple times for ourselves the flightiness of the flavor, we continued to chew our beloved Fruit Stripe on the premise of its novelty alone.


Is it not the most fantastically beautiful gum you've ever seen? Huh? Is it?

Though the gum claimed to come in a wide variety of fruity flavors, in reality it tended to come in a variety of fruity colors. You'd have to be a taste connoisseur to distinguish between these subtle differences, so we relied on the vibrantly colored sticks of gum to show us the way. We could only assume that the red was in some way vaguely symbolic of wild cherry and a yellow/green combination of hues represented the lemon lime delegation. The system wasn't perfect, but it was sweet, which is usually more than enough to satiate even the most precocious of children.

It was wonderfully convenient that the gum tended to come in a large pack as it provided a handy solution for its minuscule flavor life. It didn't take a genius IQ to figure out that adding another stick would freshen the ever-growing was of gum slowly taking over our cavernous mouthal cavity. Run out of flavor? No problem. Simply add another stick. Then another. And one more. Alright, so this clearly was not the perfect solution and our teeth weren't bowing down in enamel-depleted gratitude, but our parents probably were big fans of this trick. After all, a kid can't speak with a mouth chock full of Fruit Stripe gum. Sure, there was a minor choking hazard, but that's a small price to pay for ten minutes of silence in the car.

The Fruit Stripe people knew it would take more than a lamely-flavored albeit colorful gum to pique the fancy of children. They weren't taking their novelty product halfway, they were going for gold here. Hence the inclusion of the tattoo. Oh, the coveted tattoo! It was inexplicably desirable, despite the fact it was both worthless and blurry. Each stick came with its very own temporary tattoo, because what kid doesn't want a semi-permanent splotch of color smack dab in the middle of their cheek? I know I was keen.




The magic of the Fruit Stripe gum tattoo was in its pure, unadulterated simplicity. There were no bells and whistles on this thing. The instructions were brief: simply wet the tattoo (nearly all of us subbed the verb lick at this point), and apply with pressure to the desired skin surface for about 30 seconds. What could possibly go wrong?

Apparently, lots of things. The temporary tattooing process was not quite as straightforward as they'd led us to believe. We usually ended up with more of a smudge than a zebra. It was time for us to take drastic measures. Namely, to put the tattoos on our tongues. Yes, that's right. This non-toxic ink blob clinging to our taste buds was usually our greatest and wisest alternative. Sure, it wasn't necessarily the most attractive, or tastiest, or functional, or sensible, or...wait, where was I going with this?

Regardless of our questionable Fruit Stripe tattoo practices, the gum remained amongst our favorites for years. It was certainly a cheap thrill, and a short-lived one at that. It was one of those food fads for which we liked it because we liked it, and don't bother asking us any probing questions as to why. We'd suffer through endless wads of gooey, chewy, tastelessly bitter gum so long as it was colorful and came with a cheerful zebra on the package.




Like so many of our favorite snacks and candy in the 90s, we were foolishly lured in by a fast-talking anthropomorphic cartoon animal and vibrant neon colors. If they made it look fun in the commercial, you could bet we'd make it fun in real life. That's simple deductive logic. It didn't matter if a cereal tasted like cardboard or a gum tasted like unscented Silly Putty, it was ours. We as kids took ownership and laid full claim to novelty foods and there was nothing adults could do to stop us. We'd sooner loyally defend our beloved novelty sweets than cave to adult logic. Unless, of course, we had the entire pack of Fruit Stripe in our mouths.*



*This was a likely situation given the instantaneous flavor loss. Sure, you couldn't talk back to your parents, but you could blow a head-engulfing bubble. All in all, sort of a toss up.

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Edward Scissorhands


Many things scared me as a child, but rarely did anything frighten me on the nightmare-inducing level of a Tim Burton film. Yes, yes, now I realize he's probably brilliant and his muse Johnny Depp is a dreamboat and Burton can juggle all sorts of complex symbolism and irony, but at the time it was much more like, "Wait, a guy has scissors...for hands? A little kid pulls a shrunken head out of his Christmas present? And God help me if I ever accidentally utter 'Beetlejuice' thrice." Hell, he even scared me a little bit with Pee Wee's Big Adventure.

Maybe I was a bit deficient in the imagination department, but these movies scared me to no end. In some ways, I suppose that speaks to their power; Burton's movies are certainly affective. That lingering feeling of creepiness and uneasiness speaks largely to his dark prowess as a filmmaker. Many of these movies that terrified me in my younger years I now recognize as deep and interesting and original. Okay, and a little scary. I'm sorry. Scissors for hands? That's frightening stuff. No two snips about it.

Overall, the film is poignant and touching, which is probably what scared me so much about it in the first place. As a kid, we don't want movies to make us feel. We want them to make us smile as little woodland creatures sing us songs before diving into a wooded thicket. Nuance and subtlety are not exactly the way to a child's heart. I don't know about you, but I was big into happily ever afters, which doesn't tend to happen a lot if a film is trying to make a statement in the way that Edward Scissorhands was.

With this film began the torrid love affair between Depp and Burton that continues to frighten and intrigue us in the present day. Prior to his role in Scissorhands, Depp was something of a teen idol, the likes of whose pinups may have been torn from J17 or Bop! Magazine and plastered the walls of smitten late-80s teenage girls. Depp's roles in TV's 21 Jump Street and the 50's-themed musical Cry-Baby had elevated him to teen hearthrob status, a title that left Depp less than satisfied with his career choices. Determined not to be packaged and sold as a teen stud, his fledgling professional relationship with Burton allowed him to break out of this boxed-in career path. Oh, and frighten some young fans with the cunning use of stage makeup and scissor hands.



How's that trailer for dramatic? I'm a big fan of Danny Elfman themes, but this is really just the heartstring pulliest. You can just tell it's going to be so sad. And a little disconcerting.

Before delving into the movie, here's a handy Arsenio Hall interview with Johnny Depp and Tim Burton regarding Edward Scissorhands. Yes, yes, it's informative, but mainly I've included it because it would undoubtedly win any contest for three best 90s hairstyles ever. Just watch the way Johnny's hair moves. It's very antennae-esque. Sort of frightening, sort of intriguing, oddly attractive. Like Johnny, in the film. You can begin to see why the role was so well-tailored to his personal character.



Edward Scissorhands is ultimately a tragic comedy, as its both heart-wrenching and sort of giggle-inducing. Edward is not actually a man, but an unfinished project of an enterprising inventor, as we learn from our grandmotherly narrator. Following his inventor's death, Edward continues to live in his sprawling mansion unnoticed until the unexpected intrusion of Peg the Avon lady. Peg insists on taking him home with her. And who wouldn't? He's a deathly pale, scar-faced, scissor-handed freak. He definitely sounds like someone I would want around my loved ones in their natural habitat. Well played, Peg. Well played indeed.

Edward had a natural penchant for all sorts of fun clippery, particularly in the areas of foliage manipulation and perm reduction. He is clearly ill at ease while integrated in society, and is largely perplexed by the norms and mores that rule society. He dodges the seduction attempts of a lonely housewife, only to be smacked with rape charges. He helps Peg's daughter's boyfriend in his criminal misdoings and is picked up by the police. The officers, however, declare Edward to be void of a moral compass but believe him to be ultimately good. Those rape accusations weren't winning him any friends, though, and his neighborhood star falls nearly as quickly as it had risen.

After Edward accidentally injures Peg's daughter Kim, her no-good boyfriend Jim is out for revenge. The scene escalates and there are all sorts of misunderstandings that reiterate the townspeople's growing distaste for Edward. In what is turning out to be a fight to the death, Edward kills Jim. Kim and some of his other defenders manage to imply that the two killed each other, but Edward was still alive and doing his snow-making thing. And for your spoiler alert (p.s., you've been alerted), we find out the old woman from the beginning is Kim and she's loved Edward all along, though their ultimately doomed relationship was not conducive to them maintaining their romance. I know, I know. It's sad. I'll give you some time.
We all have those movies that we saw as children that we thought we understood until we saw them as adults and realize we hadn't a clue what was going on. Edward Scissorhands is one of those movies. For anyone who saw the movie at a young age, it was confusing and mildly terrifying. I was vaguely aware that it was supposed to be sad, but I was too worried about the inevitable insomnia-provoking nightmares that were sure to result from hearing that incessant snip-snip-snip sound.

Ultimately, Edward Scissorhands is touching, resonant, and gutsy with its out-on-a-limb themes and metaphors. Okay, so none of us were quick to plaster our walls with Edward Scissorhands pinups*, but it certainly paved the way for both Johnny Depp's and Tim Burton's resultant cinematic successes. Maybe it didn't have the happy ending some of us selfishly demand of movies, but it did have heart. Oh, and scissors. Big, giant scissors.


*Most of us waited until he became a pirate to reinstate his hearthrob status

Monday, August 24, 2009

Weird Al Yankovic



It's pretty remarkable to think that Weird Al is still out there day after day, album after album, doing his thing and entertaining people through the mere skill of wittily* reworking the lyrics of popular songs into mildly humorous reformulations. That's a career path. Astounding, isn't it? Not just a feasible, existing career path, but a relatively lucrative and fame-garnering one. Sign me up. I'm punny. I'll do it. Really, I would. Shame hath no boundaries like a parody songwriter.

Though Weird Al continues to churn out moderately amusing song take-offs, he was was arguably most enormously successful throughout the 80s and 90s. Kids everywhere went crazy for his albums, for no reason other than that it was kind-of sort-of funny to hear our favorite songs dessicated and reserved to us on a platter of unpretentious geekdom.

I'm not too proud to admit I was a huge Weird Al fan in my playground years. His songs spoke to kids in a way that traditionally popular songs usually did not. Kids can relate far better to a silly re-write of a song than to any actual song detailing adult behavior and practices. I don't know about you guys, but my school found Amish Paradise a hell of a lot funnier than Gangsta's Paradise. Probably mainly because we didn't know any gangsters, but also because the Amish were easier targets** who were thus less likely to shoot us for enjoying songs about their lifestyle***.



Weird Al typically had a few different types of songs that fell into his general genre of musical parody. Some songs, and arguably some of the most popular on recognizability alone, were pretty much reconstructed chord-for-chord from the original song. Others were more "in the style of" and made fun of multiple songs and artists in a single swoop. Sure, it shows cleverness to be able to incorporate all sorts of musical targets in your satirical albums, but people usually prefer a slightly modified version of what they already know.

I mean, it's a lot easier to learn the words if you already know the tune. People are pretty lazy by nature, though the true nerds among us would no doubt comb the more nuanced song for every potential musical reference.


Eat It/Fat

Alright, so maybe these songs were released four years apart, but they certainly lend themselves to being grouped together. They're direct Michael Jackson spinoff songs that parody his video schematics and have to do with ingesting food. How's that for thematic? I suppose once you find your niche, you might as well stick to it.

You've really got to give this guy some credit. He does not do things halfway. While most of us will feel justifiably silly singing our hearts out to songs that reference Cap'n Crunch, Weird Al really goes for it. He's got a flair for both the dramatic and the reassemblage of popular music video scenery.




In Fat, Weird Al spares no feelings with his depiction of the overweight. In the glorious days before the all-consuming backlash of alleged political correctness, we could all just think it's fun to see a guy dancing around in a fat suit singing, "I'm fat! I'm fat! Shamu!" or "Don't you call me pudgy, portly, or stout, just tell me once again, who's fat!" Now that's good songwriting.






Like a Surgeon


Talk about a song idea writing itself. Madonna actually asked how long it was going to be until Weird Al parodied her song "Like a Virgin" as "Like a Surgeon". You just don't get more straightforward than that. He didn't even have to come up with an original concept for his unoriginal song. And who says Madonna isn't thoughtful?






Smells Like Nirvana


Smells Like Teen Spirit lent itself well to a parody version not only in content and style but also because it seemed people had no idea what Kurt Cobain was saying in the original song, anyway. Hey, if you like the music, why not just sit back and enjoy the more easily decipherable Weird Al version? The video even includes many of the same actors and set pieces.

Weird Al even starts the song, "What is this song/all about/can't figure any/lyrics out". That's right, the entire premise of the parody is that we have no idea what the actual song is about or what any of the lyrics may be. He does manage to capture the grunge essence, at the very least, and you must admit it's a little funny to see him sing with that disaffected expression with these words.






Amish Paradise


Amish Paradise was a single from the album Bad Hair Day, the cover of which features Weird Al with a decidedly Coolio-esque 'do. Amish Paradise is all about contrast; the original Gansta's Paradise talks about the hardships of urban life, whereas the parody single talks about, well, I'll let you look for yourself:

As I walk through the valley where I harvest my grain
I take a look at my wife and realize shes very plain
But that's just perfect for an Amish like me
You know I shun fancy things like electricity
At 4:30 in the morning Im milkin' cows
Jebediah feeds the chickens and Jacob plows... fool
And Ive been milkin' and plowin' so long that
Even Ezekiel thinks that my mind is gone
Im a man of the land, I'm into discipline
Got a Bible in my hand and a beard on my chin
But if I finish all of my chores and you finish thine
Then tonight were gonna party like its 1699


Get it? 1699? Instead of 1999? Oh Weird Al. You are just too clever. Harvesting his grain? His wife is plain? Where do you come up with this stuff?


"Weird Al" Yankovic - Amish Paradise








Pretty Fly for a Rabbi


The Offspring were at the height of their popularity in the late 90s, particularly with their hit "Pretty Fly for a White Guy". As you can clearly see, Weird Al is all about easily mockable targets--he doesn't make you think too hard. He takes groups or people who are inherently humorous on stereotype alone and lets us all laugh at them. I mean, how can you not crack just a little smile at his turning "Give it to me baby! Uh huh! Uh huh!" into "How you doing Bernie? Oy Vey! Oy Vey!" ? It's funny.

I suppose it's entirely possible that many of you out there do not have as many Jewish relatives as I do, but let me tell you, this is funny stuff. The Yiddish! Oy, the Yiddish. The cheap jokes. The bagel references. He even does off-color stuff:

When hes doing a bar mitzvah, now that you shouldn't miss
Hell always schlep on down for a wedding or a bris
They say hes got a lot of chutzpah, hes really quite hip
The parents pay the moyel and he gets to keep the tip.


If the sprinkling of Yiddish is too subtle for you, he's talking about a circumcision here. The tip. Oh, Weird Al? Is there no limit to your groan-inducing punnery?






Okay, so maybe writing parody songs is not quite on par with rocket science, but you may just have to admit that his lyrics have a nice ring to them. Especially in his song Phony Calls. Get it? Ring...calls? I'm halfway to parody songwriter myself.



*I know, this depends on your definition of wittily. **Especially on the internet! Sorry, Amish, but you'll never find it here. ***I'm not saying all gangsters would kill me for singing Gangstas' Paradise, but hey, I saw Dangerous Minds. I doubt those kids would even appreciate me dropping the e-r in gangster. Just sayin'.

Friday, August 21, 2009

I swear this is not a lazy cop-out Friday post. Depending on your definiton of lazy. Or cop out. Or really, even Friday.

Before you start singing that catchy "One of These Things is not like the Other" song from Sesame street, allow me to offer some completely valid explanations (read: excuses). I was all pumped up to do a regular daily post for all of my loyal readers, but a few life-like obstacles inconveniently dropped in my way.

First, as some of you long-time readers may now, I broke my ankle a month ago. Let's all say that together. A month. A long time, yes? Now let's say, just theoretically, that you had been on crutches for a month and were continuing to enjoy your daily life where your apartment in which you live alone is convenient located up a treacherous set of skull-crushingly solid cement steps. Just theoretically, that is.

Now, if this completely theoretical person had not only stupidly missed her doctor's appointment and x-ray the week before but after some desperate, tear-stained rescheduling was told she may be on crutches for an additional six to eight weeks, she might not be in prime posting mood. Again, this is all just hypothetical, but I'm sure you would agree.

Concurrent to this terrible, horrible, no good, very bad news re:walking and living, let's imagine for a minute that the desktop computer that she so loved and defended against her pretentious laptop-toting peers came down with a terrible virus. The likes of which may allow a newer computer to recover, but for an old, desolate soul like her desktop will inevitably result in a slow, painful, RAM-eating death. After which the computer will inexplicably keep restarting in a way that can only lead her to believe that it is indeed possessed, forcing her to unplug it to void out the possibility of it growling to her in the night in the voice of Satan.

I don't know about you, but that sounds pretty awful. Sure, she's got a brand-spanking new laptop now that she can't afford, but thanks to the incredible generosity of her very kind, wonderful, endlessly deserving of superlative adjective qualifiers boyfriend, was able to not afford it slightly less. Don't fight it, those double negatives all made perfect sense.

So there you have it. After sobbing gently through this very sad hypothetical story, I'm sure you can understand why there is not a gem of 90s wisdom waiting for you today. Okay, so maybe a percentage of the above tale is true. What? 100 is a percentage. Either way, I could never let you down and thus will share with you some chain-email style observational humor that had me nodding and laughing along all the way.

This has obviously been floating around the internet, as I keep seeing tidbits pop up as people's facebook statuses, but this seems an incredibly appropriate and moderately captive audience for this kind of thing. I did not write this (I take credit for nothing!) but it did arrive in my inbox with the elusive title "Random Thoughts from People Our Age". I am sure some of you have seen it before, but it really is deserving of our attention.

Again, not written by me. Taking no credit for this. Just shamelessly re-posting something I found both humorous and poignant, for which I give you full permission to disseminate via email. As, like I said, I didn't write it. So who am I really to give you permission? But that's neither here not there*.

Random thoughts from people our age...

-I wish Google Maps had an "Avoid Ghetto" routing option.

-More often than not, when someone is telling me a story all I can think about is that I can't wait for them to finish so that I can tell my own story that's not only better, but also more directly involves me.

-Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong.

-I don't understand the purpose of the line, "I don't need to drink to have fun." Great, no one does. But why start a fire with flint and sticks when they've invented the lighter?

-Have you ever been walking down the street and realized that you're going in the complete opposite direction of where you are supposed to be going? But instead of just turning a 180 and walking back in the direction from which you came, you have to first do something like check your watch or phone or make a grand arm gesture and mutter to yourself to ensure that no one in the surrounding area thinks you're crazy by randomly switching directions on the sidewalk.

-That's enough, Nickelback.

-I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger.

-Is it just me, or are 80% of the people in the "people you may know" feature on Facebook people that I do know, but I deliberately choose not to be friends with?

-Do you remember when you were a kid, playing Nintendo and it wouldn't work? You take the cartridge out, blow in it and that would magically fix the problem. Every kid in America did that, but how did we all know how to fix the problem? There was no internet or message boards or FAQ's. We just figured it out. Today's kids are soft.

-There is a great need for sarcasm font.

-Sometimes, I'll watch a movie that I watched when I was younger and suddenly realize I had no idea what the f was going on when I first saw it.

-I think everyone has a movie that they love so much, it actually becomes stressful to watch it with other people. I'll end up wasting 90 minutes shiftily glancing around to confirm that everyone's laughing at the right parts, then making sure I laugh just a little bit harder (and a millisecond earlier) to prove that I'm still the only one who really, really gets it.

-How the hell are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet?

-I would rather try to carry 10 plastic grocery bags in each hand than take 2 trips to bring my groceries in.

- I think part of a best friend's job should be to immediately clear your computer history if you die.

-The only time I look forward to a red light is when I’m trying to finish a text.

- A recent study has shown that playing beer pong contributes to the spread of mono and the flu. Yeah, if you suck at it.

- Was learning cursive really necessary?

- Lol has gone from meaning, "laugh out loud" to "I have nothing else to say".

- I have a hard time deciphering the fine line between boredom and hunger.

- Answering the same letter three times or more in a row on a Scantron test is absolutely petrifying.

- My brother's Municipal League baseball team is named the Stepdads. Seeing as none of the guys on the team are actual stepdads, I inquired about the name. He explained, "Cuz we beat you, and you hate us." Classy, bro.

- Whenever someone says "I'm not book smart, but I'm street smart", all I hear is "I'm not real smart, but I'm imaginary smart".

- How many times is it appropriate to say "What?" before you just nod and smile because you still didn't hear what they said?

- I love the sense of camaraderie when an entire line of cars teams up to prevent a dick from cutting in at the front. Stay strong, brothers!

- Every time I have to spell a word over the phone using 'as in' examples, I will undoubtedly draw a blank and sound like a complete idiot. Today I had to spell my boss's last name to an attorney and said "Yes that's G as in...(10 second lapse)..ummm...Goonies"

-What would happen if I hired two private investigators to follow each other?

- While driving yesterday I saw a banana peel in the road and instinctively swerved to avoid it...thanks Mario Kart.

- MapQuest really needs to start their directions on #5. Pretty sure I know how to get out of my neighborhood.

- Obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you how the person died.

- I find it hard to believe there are actually people who get in the shower first and THEN turn on the water.

-Shirts get dirty. Underwear gets dirty. Pants? Pants never get dirty, and you can wear them forever.

- I would like to officially coin the phrase 'catching the swine flu' to be used as a way to make fun of a friend for hooking up with an overweight woman. Example: "Dave caught the swine flu last night."

-I can't remember the last time I wasn't at least kind of tired.

- Bad decisions make good stories

-Whenever I'm Facebook stalking someone and I find out that their profile is public I feel like a kid on Christmas morning who just got the Red Ryder BB gun that I always wanted. 546 pictures? Don't mind if I do!

- Is it just me or do high school girls get sluttier & sluttier every year?

-If Carmen San Diego and Waldo ever got together, their offspring would probably just be completely invisible.

-Why is it that during an ice-breaker, when the whole room has to go around and say their name and where they are from, I get so incredibly nervous? Like I know my name, I know where I'm from, this shouldn't be a problem....

-You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment at work when you've made up your mind that you just aren't doing anything productive for the rest of the day.

-Can we all just agree to ignore whatever comes after DVDs? I don't want to have to restart my collection.

-There's no worse feeling than that millisecond you're sure you are going to die after leaning your chair back a little too far.

-I'm always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it asks me if I want to save any changes to my ten page research paper that I swear I did not make any changes to.

- "Do not machine wash or tumble dry" means I will never wash this ever.

-I hate being the one with the remote in a room full of people watching TV. There's so much pressure. 'I love this show, but will they judge me if I keep it on? I bet everyone is wishing we weren't watching this. It's only a matter of time before they all get up and leave the room. Will we still be friends after this?'

-I hate when I just miss a call by the last ring (Hello? Hello? Dammit!), but when I immediately call back, it rings nine times and goes to voicemail. What'd you do after I didn't answer? Drop the phone and run away?

- I hate leaving my house confident and looking good and then not seeing anyone of importance the entire day. What a waste.

-When I meet a new girl, I'm terrified of mentioning something she hasn't already told me but that I have learned from some light internet stalking.

-I like all of the music in my iTunes, except when it's on shuffle, then I like about one in every fifteen songs in my iTunes.

-Why is a school zone 20 mph? That seems like the optimal cruising speed for pedophiles...

- As a driver I hate pedestrians, and as a pedestrian I hate drivers, but no matter what the mode of transportation, I always hate cyclists.

-Sometimes I'll look down at my watch 3 consecutive times and still not know what time it is.

-It should probably be called Unplanned Parenthood.

-I keep some people's phone numbers in my phone just so I know not to answer when they call.

-Even if I knew your social security number, I wouldn't know what do to with it.

-Even under ideal conditions people have trouble locating their car keys in a pocket, hitting the G-spot, and Pinning the Tail on the Donkey - but I’d bet my ass everyone can find and push the Snooze button from 3 feet away, in about 1.7 seconds, eyes closed, first time every time...

-My 4-year old son asked me in the car the other day "Dad what would happen if you ran over a ninja?" How the hell do I respond to that?

-It really pisses me off when I want to read a story on CNN.com and the link takes me to a video instead of text.

-I wonder if cops ever get pissed off at the fact that everyone they drive behind obeys the speed limit.

-I think the freezer deserves a light as well.

-I disagree with Kay Jewelers. I would bet on any given Friday or Saturday night more kisses begin with Miller Lites than Kay.

-The other night I ordered takeout, and when I looked in the bag, saw they had included four sets of plastic silverware. In other words, someone at the restaurant packed my order, took a second to think about it, and then estimated that there must be at least four people eating to require such a large amount of food. Too bad I was eating by myself. There's nothing like being made to feel like a fat bastard before dinner.

I hope that was enough to get you your Gen Y weekend fix. Have a wonderful weekend, children of the 90s, and hopefully I'll be back to you on Monday with all sorts of exciting new tricks garnered from this shiny new laptop.



*Okay, Okay. It's there.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Lovable 90s TV Nerds


TV in the 90s was the Golden Age of stereotyped characters. Very few of our favorite shows contained particularly multi-dimensional characters. Instead, most of our televised friends could be neatly labeled and classified. Especially in high school sitcoms, our usual spectrum of characters was always there: the nerds, the jocks, the brains, and all of our other easily identifiable groupings. Sure, it was sort of a cop-out, but it was a lot easier than thinking up complex, multifaceted characters that resemble actual people in real life. I mean, really. Who wants that kind of responsibility on their shoulders?

One of the most popular TV tropes of the 90s was the nerd. Magically, these nerds usually seemed to be best friends with our too-cool everyman hero-type characters. You know, the way it never is in real life. Generally, these characters were ripe for mocking and served as a comic foil to their slicker co-stars. Regardless of their butt-of-the-joke lot in TV, they did get their fair share of funny storylines and dialogue. Sure, we were mocking them, but in an endearing way rather than with disdain. Well, usually.


Carlton Banks of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air

If you're wondering who would win in a contest for the whitest black guy in the universe, look no further than preppy Republican Trekkie Carlton Banks. He made for a wonderful comic foil to cousin Will, whose cool character and smooth moves were in high contrast to Carlton's social awkwardness. He's an incredibly easy target: short, studious, old-fashioned fuddy-duddy music taste, and a penchant for tying golf sweaters around his shoulders.

Sure he's a little formal and straightlaced, but he does manage to surprise us once in awhile. Particularly with the Carlton dance. Any of you regular readers probably notice that I reference the Carlton dance frequently, but it's just so incredibly deserving of our attention. He's particularly partial to Tom Jones. If you're not yet convinced of Carlton's nerdiness, look no further than his incredibly well-timed dancing dorkiness. It's spectacular.






Samuel "Screech" Powers of Saved by the Bell

Once in our good graces as the adorably elfish nerdy kid Screech, Dustin Diamond has recently fallen from Saved by the Bell grace. After a string of embarrassing high-profile incidents (foreclosure, release of a sex tape, being a dick on Celebrity Fit club, penning a tell-all SBtB memoir), he was even left out of the People magazine coverage of the upcoming reunion. Ouch. I suppose being a desperately pathetic pseudo-celebrity clinging to your last parcels of fame is not quite enough to win over the skeptical public.

Back in the day, however, Screech was still a lovable geek who we knew from way back in his early Good Morning Miss Bliss years. He is forever getting sucked into Zack's crazy schemes and suffered all sorts of nerdy public humiliation. He plays chess, has a robot pal, and keeps science equipment in his bedroom. He has a huge thing for Lisa Turtle, but settles for dating Tori Spelling disguised with glasses and braids. Because you know, nerds wear glasess. That's how we know who they are.


I know, I know. In this video, they're all pretty enormous nerds, so it may be hard to pick him out.




Steve Urkel of Family Matters

You know a character's got staying power when they're supposed to play a one-time drop in guest and end up hogging all the remaining screen time for the duration of the series. The Winslow family's neighbor, Urkel is gratingly dorky in both voice and mannerisms. He wears oversized glasses, high water pants with suspenders, and walks in a trademark nerdy fashion. He's that annoying kid you just can't seem to shake, but he's well-meaning enough for us to feel a bit of sympathetic endearment toward him.

If you thought Carlton was the only one with trademark geeky dance moves, think again. Urkel's up for the challenge:






Comic Book Guy of The Simpsons

Comic Book Guy is one of the rare adult nerds we found on 90s TV, because presumably there are a plethora of nerds in mainstream society in our younger years who all gradually disappear as we near adulthood. Who knows, maybe they all become well-adjusted and popular somewhere along the way. Comic Book Guy is an exceptional case in that he retains his nerdiness in his tragically comic (yes, comic) adulthood.

He is the prototypical grown-up nerd, owner of Springfield's Android's Dungeon & Baseball Card Shop. He's overweight, overly saracastic, and overconfident for his lot in life. While like most nerds he's certainly intelligent, most of his brainpower goes to feeling smug and superior to his well-liked peers by being ridiculously knowledgable in all things Lord of the Rings and Klingon. Worst. Adulthood. Ever.





Millhouse Van Houten of The Simpsons


If Comic Book Guy is the prototypical adult nerd, Millhouse is his nebbish young counterpart. He has asthma, wets the bed, sleeps with a teddy bear...all of the stuff that's guaranteed to get you beat up by cartoon bullies. He plays a very Screech-like role as Bart's sidekick, getting caught up in his crazy scheming often against his will. His unrequited love for Lisa is another running joke, as while Lisa is a brainy nerd she's not quite down to Millhouse's level of social ineptitude.






Paul Pfieffer of The Wonder Years


Paul also plays the nerdy best friend to Wonder Years hero Kevin. Sure, Kevin's not exactly Mr. Popular Suavacito himself, but he's a far cry from tragic thick-framed glasses Pauldom. He's certainly got some Millhouse in him, as he's allergic to nearly everything in a sad, sort of pity-inducing way. He's also smart and bespectacled and Jewish, which by TV standards is a near-perfect recipe for eternal geekdom. He did become a successful Harvard-educated lawyer in the epilogue, however, so I guess all's well that ends well. All smart, nerdy, bespectacled Jewish kids everywhere (and believe me, there are many) finally had a role model younger than Woody Allen.

In the late 90s, a rumor bgan circulating that Josh Saviano, the actor who played Paul, had grown up to be Marilyn Manson. This makes no sense whatsoever, but the urban legend spread like wildfire. If anything, Josh should feel touched that people believed for even a moment that he had this sort of bad-ass potential. In real life, he went to Yale and became a lawyer. I suppose The Wonder Years' producers had a lot more insight into his future than a bunch of us gullible spectators.







Kimmy Gibbler


This list is seriously lacking in the estrogen department, but female nerds weren't quite as popular TV stereotypes as male. Luckily, Full House was progressive enough to provide us with a quirky enough character to be considered moderately geeky. She wasn't your typical nerd, as she had no glasses or school smarts. She's more of an idiosyncratic airhead who's not quite cute enough to qualify as a bimbo.

Kimmy is irritating, obnoxious, loud, and exhausting, but she's nearly all we've got in the female nerd department, so I'm throwing my support behind her by defining her as such. Thank you, Kimmy, for proving that girls have just as much of a knack for being annoying neighbors. We couldn't have done this without you. Keep fighting the good fight.



Honorable mentions go to Sponge from Salute Your Shorts, Willow of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Minkus of Boy Meets World, and Mark Foster of Step by Step

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Will Smith's Big Willie Style


Fear not, loyal readers. I have not forsaken you and skipped over the Fresh Prince. I know how important it is to you, and how much you'd like to watch a video of the Carlton dance on repeat. I promise it will be in a separate post, as Will Smith was sort of a 90s renaissance man. Well, a renaissance man with neon sideways hats who was partial to using words like "jiggy". Nonetheless.

Will Smith is a jack of all trades, starting his career as the Fresh Prince with DJ Jazzy Jeff in producing upbeat, clean, radio-friendly raps that included such classic titles as "Parents Just Don't Understand." This was mainstream rap at its finest, appealing to young people across the board. In the mid-90s, following his eponymous role as The Fresh Prince of Bel Air, Smith released the album Big Willie Style. This was mid-to-late-90s pop rap at its finest, featuring up-tempo beats and squeaky-clean lyrics. This kind of thing would never have taken off today. I'm pretty sure today's rappers have some sort of bitch-and-hoe per verse quota.

Allow me to take you on a gloriously 90s trip back in rap time, back to an age of semi-innocence, where rapping about fighting aliens or hanging out with your kid was good enough to take the airways by storm. Yes, really. I know, I know, it sounds made up, but this was the real deal back in the day. You know. Big Willie style's all in it. Or so he claimed.

Men in Black


I will openly admit that this was the first movie (okay, fine, Gremlins too) that gave me a barrage of nightmares about frightening little burrowing creatures. Did I mention these films were comedies? I must have led a sheltered cinematic life. Men in Black featured a song by the same name performed by none other than its slick co-star Will Smith. Smith and Tommy Lee Jones were ultra-cool non-governmental agents charged with covering up and/or policing from earthbound alien action. You may think it's tough to bust out some bad-ass rhymes based on a movie based on a comic book, and you may be right. The song was definitely catchy, though, featuring incredibly literal lyrical descriptions like these:

The good guys dress in black remember that
Just in case we ever face to face and make contact
The title held by me MIB
Means what you think you saw you did not see
So don't blink be what was there is now gone
The black suits with the black ray bans on

Walk in shadow move in silence
Guard against extra terrestrial violence
But yo we ain't on no government list
We straight don't exist no names and no fingerprints
Saw somethin' strange watch your back
Cause you never quite now where the MIBs is at

Yes, that is pretty much the whole plot of the movie. Sweet synopsis, Will. For the full effect, here's the music video. You can't say you don't find those aliens a tiny bit frightening. Really? Not at all? Just me? Okay then.





Gettin' Jiggy Wit' It


Don't be fooled by all of those well-placed prematurely word-ending apostrophes--they are a well-calculated ploy to seem cool and hip while maintaining a spotlessly innocent rapping character. Well, depending on your definition of "jiggy", that is. Luckily there was no officially agreed-upon meaning to this mysterious slang term, meaning we could not ascertain the exact connotations of Smith's songs. According to Dictionary.com*, there are a few definitions of "jiggy" out there:

Here's the original:
jig⋅gy–adjective, ‑gi⋅er, ‑gi⋅est. Slang.
1. nervous; active; excitedly energetic.
2. wonderful and exciting, esp. because stylish.

And here are what I can only assume to be the ensuing speculations:

Main Entry:
jiggy
Part of Speech:
adj
Definition: excited or involved; also, to get involved with sexuall
y
Example: Jennifer Lopez has gotten jiggy with a few men

Main Entry: jiggy
Part of Speech:
adj
Definition: cool, totally cool

Example: I am jiggy with that idea


Please also direct your attention to Daria's episode "The Lost Girls", which features more than a fair smattering of use of this elusive term.



Featuring lyrics like this, I'm inclined to guess the connotations aren't so much sexual as jig-dancing. Main clues: his admission to not actually smoking cigars and the gratuitous use of pig-latin.

Everybody lookin at me
Glancin the kid

Wishin they was dancin a jig
Here with this handsome kid
Ciga-cigar right from cuba-cuba
I just bite it
Its for the look I dont light it
Illway the an-may on the ance-day oor-flay
Givin up jiggy make it feel like foreplay





Miami





This song is brilliant in its simplicity, as its only real purpose to to extol the virtues of Miami in rap-form. He does make it sound pretty good, what, with all of the bouncing in the club where the heat is on and those Dominican women with cinnamon tan. Clever rhyme, right? I thought so.

One thing I'll say for Smith: he does not disrespect women in his song. While other rappers make the women in their lyrics say all sorts of demeaning things, in "Miami" their lines are pretty straightforward, if a bit Will Smith ego-inflating. They're always being like, "Hi Will!" or telling him how much they loved his last hit, and occasionally if they've had a few maybe they'll moan "Aii Poppy." They're even a bit educational, teaching us some Spanish along the way. That's right. I can now say Buenvenidos a Miami. Thanks, Smith backup singers!






Just the Two of Us

You've got to hand it to Will--he really knows how to make the ladies say "awww". While the original Bill Withers version of "Just the Two of Us" was about romantic love, Smith went ahead and made it about his love for his son. Geez, what are you going for, an honorary uterus or something? That's just so...sensitive.

I mean, really, Will. These lyrics. Mushy. The mushiest. What happened to good old fashioned rap? If you had any doubt that the genre'd gone soft on you, here's your proof:


From the first time the doctor placed you in my arms
I knew Id meet death before Id let you meet harm
Although questions arose in my mind would I be man enough
Against wrong choose right and be standin up
From the hospital that first night
Took a hour just ta get the carseat in right
People drivin all fast got me kinda upset
Got you home safe placed you in your bassinet
That night I don't think one wink I slept
As I slipped out my bed to your crib I crept
Touched your head gently felt my heart melt
Cause I know I loved you more than life itself
Then to my knees and I begged the lord please
Let me be a good daddy all he needs
Love knowledge discipline too
I pledge my life to you






I guess it just goes to show: you don't need to be shocking to be successful. You just need to be devastatingly handsome, have your own sitcom, star in an endless string of box-office blockbusters, and become an international celebrity. Don't tell anyone I told you this, though. Who knows what could happen if this type of information gets into the wrong hands.





*The official dictionary of the lazy and internet-addicted. Also, those sample sentences? Wow.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Aladdin


The 90s were the age of the animated Disney renaissance. The preceding decade or so had brought us mildly disappointing and unmemorable cartoon offerings like The Black Cauldron and The Great Mouse Detective, none of which held any sort of long-standing appeal. Following the release of 1989's The Little Mermaid, however, Disney animation began changing its tune. Literally, in fact. With catchy, catchy songs.

While it had seemed the Disney glow was fading under the growth of rival animation studios, by the late 80s they opted for a different route to success. While their animated films were still primarily marketed at children, they soon began weaving in more adult themes and nuances, seeking to appeal to a wider range of movie-goers. Sure, it doesn't quite seem so envelope-pushing when cartoon woodland creatures today are making all sorts of innuendo-laced jokes, but at the time films like Who Framed Roger Rabbit were pretty innovative in their quest to lure in adult viewers.

Riding high on the coattails of 1991's spectacularly well-received Beauty and the Beast, Disney Animation Studios released Aladdin in 1992. Based on a story from the 18th century Arabian nights, Aladdin was strong in the Disney tradition of completing reformulating the story that served as the basis of their plot. For a film to be properly Disney-ified, you see, it's necessary to strip down the original plot to a few major points and then whitewash over the rest of the film with well-placed jokes and musical numbers.



Some of these changes were definitely a positive step, especially for poor attention-spanned American audiences. If they'd stuck to the original story they'd be saddled with a Disney princess named Badroulbadour. I much prefer Jasmine, don't you? Even if she was a little slutty-looking in her harem pants and midriff-baring off-the shoulder bra thing she was prone to wear. I guess it's a step down in exposure from a sea-shell bra at the very least.

Aladdin featured a teenage main character, a sort of animated teen hearthrob for the under-12 set. Aladdin was probably not a role model by any definition of terms, as a street kid swiping loaves of bread at the market, though admittedly while acting cavalier and scantily clad. Although he's an orphan, Aladdin still seems to have the heart of gold credential necessary to get his resume for hero past the big guys at Disney. He's also a hell of a spontaneous singer while dodging the heavy hand of the law.



Meanwhile, the tyrannical Jafar and his squawky Gilbert Godfrey-voiced parrot companion Iago are seeking the "Diamond in the Rough" to unlock the treasure of the Cave of Wonders. Just as our pal Aladdin is getting cozy with princess-in-disguise Jasmine around the marketplace, he's captured by Jafar. Jasmine is strong-willed and pseudo-feminist in the way that's only possible while advocating for her rights while donning a skimpy outfit, and she demands for Aladdin's release. Jafar wants him for his own means to a genie-filled lamp end, tells her he's dead, and continues with his evil plan in typical Disney villain fashion.

Jafar (also in disguise) convinces Aladdin to go into the Cave of Wonders, but warns him that he must not touch anything else. This is a classic case of kid-in-a-candy-store as Aladdin and monkey sidekick Abu enter the jewel-encrusted, gold dripping, treasure chest overflowing cavern. With the help of a renegade magic carpet, Aladdin and Abu are saved and even manage to escape with the coveted lamp. From the lamp, of course, is our Genie, played by Robin Williams. Observe, some of his admittedly humorous but somewhat worrying insanity:



The genie wants nothing more than to be free, but for the moment he's at Aladdin beck and call. Aladdin wishes to be a prince and the genie turns him into Prince Ali fabulous he Ali Ababwa. Catchy, right? Abu gets the star treatment as well as his royal elephant, and off they go to the palace to get in line as a potential suitor for the illustrious Jasmine.

Jasmine's father, the Sultan, had been more or less under Jafar's spell and was this close to betrothing his one and only daughter to the tyrant when the Prince Ali parade came to town:



Jasmine, of course, refuses to be bought and sold. Like all girls do when they're in a huff, she retreats to go chill out with her tiger by the fountain. Though this is clearly the point where he should just tell her the truth and vie for her hand as a peasant, that would make an awfully short Disney movie. Plus, we've got more stuff to sing. Aladdin comes to Jasmine's window offering a magic carpet ride. Wink wink, nudge nudge. There was actually mild controversy surrounding this scene, as some people heard Aladdin whisper something about taking off her clothes. To say nothing of the "magic carpet" double entendre. Touche, conservative America.



They kiss, and just as things are working out and the lovebirds seem to be in the home stretch, Jafar smacks them with a pretty serious roadblock. Jasmine and the Sultan are hypnotized, Aladdin is thrown in the ocean, yada yada yada, Genie saves the day and we're back in the game.

Of course, it's not the home stretch yet. Aladdin had promised to use his final wish to set the genie free, but he starts getting greedy toward the end. Jafar's crazy bird sidekick kidnaps the lamp and once in Jafar's posession, the genie is forced to serve this crackpot tyrant. All sorts of crazy stuff goes down. Abu is a toy. Jasmine gets submerged in slowly ticking hourglass sand. The carpet is reduced to a ball of yarn.

Luckily Jafar isn't all that bright, and Genie tricks him into wishing himself in Genie servitude with a handy lamp encasement. Aladdin comes clean, wishes the genie to be set free, and Jasmine is allowed to marry Aladdin. We all live happily ever after. All together now: aww.

Recounting that just now, I realize it's a pretty complex plotline. The movie was more than just kid's entertainment, it was an actual movie that happened to be animated. It had action, adventure, danger, and plenty of singing and dancing. What more can you ask for?*



*Except for Steve from Full House to be the voice of Aladdin. Oh yeah, because you got that too! Schwing!

Monday, August 17, 2009

Wild and Crazy Kids




Sometimes you're watching a show and you can almost imagine what the network producers were thinking when they conceived of the inane idea. In the case of Wild and Crazy kids, I'm willing to venture that they were thinking, "What would be the easiest program to produce with universal appeal to children that costs us next to nothing?" The idea was marginally brilliant. A game show-esque format with a messiness factor guaranteed to lure in young viewers while concurrently forgoing any sort of prize or reward for the victors. It was more or less a case of take-everything-in-the-Nickelodeon-back-room-and-office-fridge-leftovers, arrange them haphazardly in a field, release a slew of cheaply t-shirted children, and let the games begin.

Wild and Crazy Kids seems like one of those one-in-the-morning ideas, the sort of which were particularly common to Nickelodeon during the 1990s. They simply planned some inconsequential events that were simultaneously sloppy and required little to no innate skill, handed out some t-shirts, and then completely snub the winners by offering no tangible goods in the means of congratulations. In days of consolatory Carmen Sandiego Gumshoe prize packs and all-expenses paid trips to Universal Studios, this was in somewhat bad form.They could have at least sent the winners packing with a Gak pack.


I always had a thing for Donny. Didn't you? Seriously. Look at him.


Luckily, the show was not particularly self-referential or self-examing. It never once alluded to the fact that hordes of children were covered in chocolate pudding and shaving cream with no foreseeable purpose or aim. It was, simply put, a chance for kids to be both Wild and Crazy. Oh, and they also got a free t-shirt, though inevitably they left the show with their trademark shirts covered in slime or pie.

Nickelodeon in the 90s was huge on slime and pie. There's no real discernible evidence as to why these were the prevailing super sloppy weapons of choice, but we just accepted that any misstep would lead to someone being doused in green slime or cream pied in the face. It was just sort of a given. Miss the baton pass in a relay? Slime and pie. Strike out at Dizzy Bat Home Run Derby? Slime and pie. Wipe out slip n' sliding? Well, you get the idea.

Each half-hour show featured three games of relatively equal insanity and inanity. The games usually went a little something like this:




As you can see, the production values on these shows were somewhat less than cinematic. The show looked more like a home movie of kids doing relay races at a school picnic than an actual show airing on a reputable children's network. As I said, it obviously wasn't costing them the big bucks, unless we're seriously underestimating the cost of spaghetti and tarps here.

Wild and Crazy Kids had three young hosts, with Omar Gooding and Donnie Jeffcoat emceeing both seasons and Annette Chavez and Jessica Gaynes each putting in one season. The hosts usually put on some sort of skit or teaser at the beginning of each show, which I once found hilarious but now believe to be potentially a bit grating. They also provided the commentary, taking very seriously elements like instant replays and play-by-plays. This sounds much more serious until you realize they were instantly replaying ketchup and mustard jousting.

The show was not without its gimmicks. They indulged in the occasional cheap cross-over inter-show challenge, such as in this episode with Marc Summers of Double Dare fame. Since the shows had a lot of shared underlying themes (read: slime and pie), it was not quite a stretch to envision the union of their Physical Challenge courses.



They also had a prime opportunity to hawk their very own Nickelodeon products, such as the oft-coveted Moon Shoes. After all, what's a cheaply produced aimless game show without a product placement thrown in now and again?



These guys were also sort of partial to making people spin around on a bat for dizzying impact. For some reason, all of these wild and/or crazy stunts seemed at least somewhat more humorous when the element of nausea and vertigo were in the picture. I doubt I'd make it through this segment without a Dramamine or one of those sea-band bracelets*.

Wild and Crazy Kids played it to the point. There was no moral of the story nor was there any remote educational value. The kids did not come away better people** by popping shaving cream-filled balloons while wearing moon-shoes. It was pure, guilty fun that never made any subtle attempt to market itself as anything other than just that. It may not have been the most affective shows of its time, but it's certainly a contender for one of the messiest***.




*I do not official endorse these products, but they do keep me from vomiting while deep-sea fishing or on glass bottom boats. I imagine a similar effect would have been had as a Wild and Crazy kid **To my knowledge. If you participated as a contestant, feel free to contradict this allegation ***Did I mention the slime and pie?

Friday, August 14, 2009

Super Mario Brothers



*Let me just offer this as a legitimate and all-excusing disclaimer: I am not, nor do I claim to be knowledgeable about video games in any way. Please don't take my word for it on any technical points by any means. I don't know the names of the versions and all of the release dates. Please accept my humble offering of Mario love. Thank you.

I like that we all just accept it as fact that a stubby little Italian guy with a face-consuming mustache battles obstacles and adversarial Koopas to rescue Princess Peach (nee Toadstool). Even as I'm typing it, a small part of me is still thinking, well, of course, it makes perfect sense. Mushrooms give you power and flowers give you fireballs and if you shimmy down a tube, you enter the mysterious minus world where the coins make that satisfying "ding" with each collection. Duh. Everyone knows that.

Mario and all of his spin-offs have become such a ubiquitous part of our culture that we're all willing to go along with that plot line and say, yeah, why not? That's just the way it is. Have you ever tried describing a video game to someone who had never played a video game? You'll find that this intricate gamer world that you navigate without question is probably the most bizarre thing they have ever heard. It's the delightful escapism of video games: they're not the real world, nor do they pretend to be grounded in it. In this world, anything goes, and you always get to play the hero. Where do I sign up?

I admit I was not much of a Nintendo aficionado growing up. Not for lack of want, but more for lack of brothers. My parents never saw fit to buy my sister and I our own video game system, though we were allowed to play Mario and Tetris on my mom's Gameboy. Before you pooh-pooh my shaky gamer credentials, let it be noted that my mom used to bring me to work and in order to escape the tedium I'd sneak of to play their giant arcade game of Super Mario Bros. Don't ask me why they had this in a nursing home. I don't know. It makes no sense, so the only explanation was that it existed solely for me to delight in the incredibly addictive world of Mario. I appreciate the gesture, but did you have to put it next to that weird aviary thing? The chirping is sort of distracting.



This was the version I played, though admittedly with less skill. I still love that music. It's so satisfying when you get to that flag. Such joyful beeping. Ah, the memories.


I have also spent the last 30 minutes playing Super Mario Bros online here. Under the guise of doing research, I found myself cursing aloud over missed coin opportunities, unintentional mushroom collisions, and failure to catch a falling star. It just isn't the kind of game you can play halfway. It's all or nothing, and in most cases, it was all.

In the 80s and 90s, video games had a far different look and feel than video games of today. The violence was more lighthearted, our aims more simplistic, and our graphics admittedly more pixelated. That's not to say the games weren't complicated. The Mario games alone were a world unto themselves. On the other hand, our hero was a stocky Italian-American plumber sporting flamboyant red overalls. I guess we'll just have to take Nintendo's word for it that he's fully qualified for such a hefty task.

Mario and his younger brother Luigi were residents of the Mushroom Kingdom. As the name implies, their homeland was indeed a monarchy, home of our beloved Princess Peach (or Toadstool, depending on which version you're looking at). I have to admit, I am such a girl. I always loved the Princess best. I always liked Super Mario Bros 2 because you had the option of playing as her, and she was a pretty awesome hoverer. In other versions, I was nowhere near adept enough at Nintendo gameplay to actually ever make a legitimate rescue (or, let's admit, even come close) but I did totally reach the Princess in Mario Teaches Typing. I kicked ass at that game.*


I like the way they claim this version (Super Mario World) is "more realistic". Do explain.

For some reason, when their beloved Princess is in peril the kingdom turns not to some sort of qualified combatant but rather to our little mustachioed plumber in overalls. You literally get to root for the little guy. Mario is tiny. Bite size. Pocket size. Fun size. You get the picture.

Mario was originally known as "jumpman", which is not particularly surprising when you observe his vertical bounce prowess. As a player, jumping became our major means of defending ourself and obtaining valuable powers and weaponry. Our journey is treacherous; weird creatures throwing crap at us, knocking us off of things, and generally standing in the way of our honest and decent quest. When those crazy turtle-bird dealies** started ricocheting back and forth and threatening to knock me off my little brick walkway, I was pretty much toast.

This is probably the coolest thing I've ever seen. I'm aware that this confirms my status as a huge nerd, but that does not in any way stop me from coveting this cake

We braved underwater levels, underground levels, sky levels, warp land, and all sorts of other exotic video game worlds to rescue our fair princess. For those of us caught time after time with a disappointingly premature death (read: me playing the flash version online right now), the game was endlessly frustrating. The sheer joy at beating a level was the ultimate triumph, while the crushing disappointment of being killed yet again by that same stupid fall was the ultimate defeat.

While most kids fought their way through and persevered, showing their hard-working earnestness and goodness of spirit, I was not among them. I was more the type to say, screw it. I'm going to play Duck Hunt. I get a gun in that game.***






*Yes, I recognize that a typing game is notably dorkier than a video game and achievements are thus far less admirable. Thank you for pointing that out.
**I'm aware that there's got to be some real name for these things
***Can you believe it? A gun!

Thursday, August 13, 2009

Troop Beverly Hills


It always frosts my cookies* a bit to find that my favorite films as a child were viciously and maliciously torn apart by critics. Here I'd been thinking this movie was on par with other representations of fine art, when more cognizant adults degraded my love for this movie with their scathing critiques. Indeed, Troop Beverly Hills, arguably one of my favorite childhood movies, boasts an impressive (okay, depressive) 8% fresh rating on Rotten Tomatoes. Not only that, but the only positive review is downright confusing to me as I had assumed myself the target audience for the film:

It's a treat (and necessity) not only for youngish gay boys, but for anyone who enjoys campy good fun with the added bonus of watching dominant cultural values self-destruct.


Right. Okay. At least they threw in that bonus. I was afraid I'd have to let dominant cultural values uphold their lofty position, but luckily they're on the verge of nuclear implosion. And all thanks to Troop Beverly Hills. Who knew?


Perhaps the problem with these reviews was not the movie itself but the jadedness of these adult critics. Yes, I understand that by nature assuming the title of critic allows you to criticize, but it also at times morphs you into too cynical a skeptic to just delight in something light and fluffy and substanceless. As a child, things like plot and nuance and character development are arbitrary. Why settle for a well-written script when there were cupcake dresses to be worn and cookie time songs to be sung. Am I right?

Troop Beverly hills is admittedly somewhere relative to cotton candy on the substance scale of movies. It confirms all of our lurking stereotyped suspicious about the wealthy and it's not exactly a feminist manifesto, but dammit, it's fun. There's even a light sprinkling of salt-of-the-earth values thrown in there for good measure. Well, sort of.

The movie showcases Shelley Long as Phyllis Neffler, a Beverly Hills socialite in the midst of a divorce from her new-moneyful husband. To prove herself as more than just the shallow social climber she probably is, Phyllis opts to become a troop leader for her daughter Hannah's troop of Wilderness Girls. You know, like the Girl Scouts, but with less copyright infringements.



You've got to admit, you've never seen anything campier, save for the troop's camping trip at the Beverly Hills Hotel. That's right, he totally said "khaki wishes and cookie dreams." You're only wishing you'd come up with it first.

So we get Phyllis, compulsive shopper and outrageous late-80s couture-wearer extraordinaire, boldly going where no trophy wife has tread before. Her daughter's troopmates are an eclectic cross section of the rich and famous: darling offspring of famous athletes, out-of-work actors, and foreign dictators round out their motley crew. Though Phyllis is certainly not an ideal troop leader, she's better than the alternative of nobody. Well, sort of.

There is one little fly in the bug spray, though. Rival troop Redfeathers' crazy leader Vesta Plendor, is out to expose Phyllis for what we all already know that she is: a fraud with a big checkbook. Vesta takes this whole thing way too seriously, resorting to some pretty dirty tricks to keep Troop Beverly Hills down. She even goes so far as to enlist her assistant Annie as a spy to infiltrate the Beverly Hills troop.

Initially unsuspecting of Vesta's distasteful scheming, Phyllis sets to work on bettering her troop. She is not such of fan of any existing badges, but she does go to town on the make-your-own-badge project. Literally. They go to town. There's a shopping badge. Jewelry appraisal. It's just so satisfyingly campy. They power through their cookie sales with over the top sales strategies and even a huge troop gala. All seems to be going swimmingly for the newly uplifted Troop Beverly Hills.

The culmination of their work, the Jamboree, is sabotaged by the vicious Vesta-led Redfeathers. Oh, and there are also some lovely trying moments of bonding between the girls. Aww.



The Redfeathers power on, even as Vesta is injured. Her daughter (played by Tori Spelling) and the rest of the troop abandon her in her usual spirit of winning. They finish first, but without a troop leader, their victory is hollow and the girls are disqualified. Just then, Troop Beverly Hills emerges from around the bend, dragging the washed-up Vesta. All's well that end's well. Phyllis and her husband reunite, Vesta gets some K-mart employee blue-smocked comeuppance, yada yada yada, we all live happily ever after.

Irony is notably lacking from this movie, which is fortunate as its major target demographic was the under-12 set. Troop Beverly Hills has no wry remarks on wealth in society, no biting social commentary, and little satirical value. But it does have this**:


The greatest cheesy girl scout cookie-themed movie song I know of, to date



And in the end, isn't that all that really counts?






*This is a line from the movie. Please tell me you caught this.
**It's entirely possible that when I purchased this DVD, some of my roommates and I may have watched this song on repeat. I'm not saying it happened, I'm just saying it's possible that we learned the full song and dance. Intoxication may have been involved.

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