Just an Everyday Bitch tagged me as a fellow Queen of All Things Awe-summm. I'm honored, thrilled, and still salivating over the glorious pronunciation guide-type spelling of "awesome".
The rules are that I am supposed to list seven things that make me (in this case, all children of the nineties) awe-summm and then pass the award on to seven other people who you think are fabulously awesummm.
Seven things that make children of the nineties Awe-summm:
1) We had it first.
Flannel. Headbands with enormous bows. Jelly sandals. These kids today may be unaware, but we know the truth.
2) Nickelodeon.
I know it's been said time and time again, but reiteration never hurt. The network that gave us a talking popsicle stick, Weinerville, and Roundhouse will forever live in our hearts. Okay, well, it's still on the air, but it's magic has faded substantially.
3) Young adult book series.
Sweet Valley High. Animorphs. Babysitter's Club. Goosebumps. A million Full House series. These book people knew how to market.
4) Pluto.
In our day, we knew to call a planet a planet.
5) The internet (1.0).
Children growing up today will never experience the magic and wonder of listening to that dial-up modem noise as they watch the running AOL logo bring them to pure chat room heaven.
6) The economy
I think the picture speaks for itself.
7) Irresponsible advertising
Why not sell cigs to kids with a super suave cartoon camel? Or use scantily clad teenagers in provocative poses to sell jeans? It made perfect sense at the time.
There's no clear set path for how a musical group achieves success and fame. Some are discovered after year of hard work and dedication. Others utilize connection in the music industry to claw their way to the the top.
And sometimes, it's probably just a fluke.
These are some of those flukes.
A one-hit-wonder is an interesting phenomenon. One would expect that if an act once had the power to captivate listeners worldwide, musical lightning would likely strike twice. Once in a while, however, a song comes along that is truly an anomaly. The music and lyrics are in no way exceptional and the band is not particularly talented. It's almost as if these songs manage to fly under the radar completely, sneak quietly onto our Billboard charts when the quality-control guards are dozing, and explode in a maelstrom of misguided publicity and incessant radio play.
1992 was uncommonly notorious on this front. Allow me to be your guide on this lovely tour of one-hit-wonderdom circa 1992:
Right Said Fred:I'm Too Sexy
The song was released in 1991, but was most likely working up the nerve to ask permission for popularity.
That video is pure grade-A 90s ridiculousness. The bikini-clad photographers, the mesh tank tops, the leather studded man jewelry. It's almost too much to bear. The premise of the song was relatively simple. Imagine yourself a stunning, reflection-worshiping early 90s-era supermodel. You find yourself to be particularly appealing to potential mates, with innumerable positive physical qualities. In fact, in some cases, overly so. Your sexiness has actually surpassed the legal limit and is now rendering you incapacitated on many fronts. While once you were able to participate in normal everyday activities like wearing hats and owning pets, you are now actually too sexy to participate in these activities. Suddenly, diagnosed with this bout of hypersexiness, you are altogether too sexy for:
Your shirt; this one seems fairly self-explanatory, as your muscular pecs can not be contained by fabric alone. It's likely that excessive body oil also plays a role in this.
Your party; right, it must get a tad exhausting to brave the adoring crowds in a contained space.
Your cat; this is a little trickier. As a cat, we can only assume that he or she (let's say he) is not sexually attracted to you. Maybe you just want to ditch the furry feline for something that won't lead others to so readily question your masculinity. Because that mesh tank top isn't dropping any heavy hints.
Your car; let's be real here. The reflection in your rear view mirror is too riskily distracting.
Your hat; I assume when you do your little turn on the catwalk, on the catwalk, do your little turn on the catwalk that you would risk disrupting your head wear.
Japan, Milan, and New York; too many commoners.
Your love; I'll give it to you, Right Said Fred, this one just makes no sense.
This song; aren't we all?
Sir Mix-a-lot: Baby Got Back
Some songs we love for their subtlety and nuance. This was not one of them.
Becky's friend is spot-on in this case. That chick does look like one of those rap guy's girlfriends. While no one likes to admit it, you would be hard pressed to find anyone who grew up in the 90s who can not sing this song in its entirety by memory. It's undeniably catchy, but the subject matter is a tad questionable. I have vivid memories of this being played at bar mitzvah parties, which in retrospect seemed to toe the line of inappropriateness. I can only imagine what the bar mitzvah boy's Uncle Moishe thought of this one.
You have to love Sir-Mix-a-Lot's stance and gestures in this video. First of all, as he himself conceded, his unfortunate placement on that giant butt leads to some unsavory comparisons. Throughout the video, though, he looks especially authoritative in a way oddly inconsistent with the video's subject matter. A sort of butt dictator, if you will. At the very least, a butt ambassador.
The imagery in this video is really something else. This is possibly the least-sexy depiction they could have come up with. They're certainly pushing it on the butt-cleavage-esque fruit and vegetable visuals. Do we really need to bring tomatoes and peaches into the picture here?
An adapted version of this song featuring Six Mix-a-Lot himself is currently being featured in a Burger King television campaign. It just goes to show you that even with royalties resulting from constant radio play over 20 years, a one-hit-wonder isn't enough to hold you afloat to a point where you can deny any sell-out friendly source of income.
Speaking of float, if you haven't already, I implore you to check out the Bill Nye parody by "Sure Floats-a-Lot". You might just learn a little something about buoyancy.
Billy Ray Cyrus: Achy Breaky Heart
Once upon a time, Billy Ray was known as more than just Hannah Montana's dad. He had an achy, breaky heart, dammit, and he was eager to share his sordid tale with us in a line dancing-friendly format.
That is certainly some business in the front, party in the back ol' Billy Ray has going on there. It could potentially be deemed cheating (though which governing board holds this jurisdiction, we can never be sure) to call this a one-hit wonder as it had actually been written and recorded a year earlier by the lesser-known Marcy Brothers. Released on Billy Ray's album alongside other charming titles as "I'm So Miserable" and "Wher'm I Gonna Live?" (yes, "wher'm") it's not surprising this is the one that fought its way to the top of this wrangled junk heap. Just think, if you can manage to record a hit country song, someday you could play a not-so-glorified version of your washed-up self on a show starring your daughter and have a shot at scoring an E-list celebrity spot on Dancing with the Stars. Reach for the stars, kids.
Of course, the version I was more familiar with was this one:
House of Pain: Jump Around Everlast, DJ Lethal, and Danny Boy. They sound like a wholesome bunch, eh?
It's almost difficult to remember this song in the context of its original release because it has become so ubiquitous in movies, TV, ads, and most notably sporting events. The horn intro becomes so deeply embedded in your brain that you can actually hear little residual horn blasts for the next few days after listening to the song. This little ditty features beautiful lyrics like "Muggs is a funk fest/someone's talking junk/ Yo, I'll bust em in the eye/And then I'll take the punks home". I don't know what this means, but it's certainly poetic. If nothing else, the song references Sega, which is certainly enough to win me over.
Wreckx-N-Effect: Rump Shaker
Oh, well, that's a charming way to spell "wrecks". I like all those extra letters you added. Very colorful. And this must be your friend, Effect. Good to meet you both.
Possibly the best part of this one-hit wonder was not in the song itself, but in its fierce Billboard chart competition. Rump Shaker never made it to number one because Whitney Houston's "I Will Always Love You" from The Bodyguard kept slamming it back a spot. I'm guessing lyrics like "all I wanna do is zooma-zoom-zoom-zoom in a boom-boom/shake your rump" weren't quite a well-suited match for Miss Houston's pre-crack-is-whack vocal glory.
The dance moves and wardrobe in this video are to die for. Where's Waldo-esque candy-striped crew neck t-shirt? Check! Arm extension Tae-bo style lifts? Check! Full-bodied pastel windbreaker? Check! The video oozes 90s cheesy hip-hop greatness. The best part is, this song was deemed vulgar and inappropriate by all sorts of moral watchdog groups. If you are unaware, zooma-zoom-zooming in a boom-boom is a bit more technical than they make it sound. While obviously tame compared to today's rap releases, it was controversial nonetheless. On the other hand, they are sporting life jackets in that boat montage, so their messages to kids must not be all bad. Hey, I listened to it and I turned out okay. In a manner of speaking,that is.
1992 was certainly an eclectic year for short-lived music sensations, but each of these briefly popular tunes are admittedly catchy in their own way. Actually, good luck getting through the rest of your day without humming one of these babies to the utter horror of your co-workers, spouses, or roommates. I'm going to put my money on Achy Breaky Heart, but you will have to get back to me on this one.
There's something oddly reassuring about a snack that refers to itself in plural as "yummies." Sure, some of our old snack standbys are yummy (singular), but does each individual chip or pretzel convey its own unique yumminess? I think not.
Amongst all of the koala-themed snack foods out there, Koala Yummies managed to distinguish themselves as the premier marsupial-based snack on the market. Dunkaroos were able to secure a precarious second-place position with their kangaroo spokescartoon upon their release four years later, but their mascot could never reach the level of cuddlability of Yummies fame. I mean look at these guys! Could anything cling to a euclaptys tree in a more lovable fashion?
In an age before extensive concerns over high-fructose corn syrup, trans-fats, and preservatives, children were once allowed to consume nutrition-free overprocessed food without the now-requisite wealth of parental concern and intervention. No one seemed particularly concerned over whether these cookies were organically produced or if the company opted to use free-range koalas. 90s parents food fearmongering was fairly tame compared to their 2000s successors, and junk food reigned supreme for parents with even a shred of concern for their children's cafeteria credibility. Parents weren't sending their children off to school with Disney lunchboxes full of tofu nuggets or soy milk juice boxes; they were sending them with carbohydrate-rich festival of tastes that would make today's South Beach, Atkins, and Sugar Busters-dieting parents blush.
Koala Yummies were one of those magical foods that contained absolutely no natural ingredients. There was something particularly satisfying about biting into a cookie with the knowledge that each component of the fantastic taste sensations on your tongue were developed in a lab specifically for your snacking enjoyment. Just imagine, these little guys were created specifically with your unnatural cravings for artificial sweeteners in mind! The packaging heavily featured a rainforest-type theme, which was certainly misleading. Koala Yummies were in no way linked to nature aside from their marsupial likeness and that's the way we wanted it.
For any of you not fortunate enough to remember the fine blend of sweet tastes that made up these confections, allow me to paint a picture for you. Well, perhaps not paint a picture. While we're using metaphors here, I might as well make them related. Allow me to bake a figurative chocolate-filled cookie for you:
Outside: Pure crispy hollow cookie deliciousness all dolled up in the best koala finery a cheap Asian food production company can buy. These yummies had personality: some of them played some sort of ukelele, some ate plates of cookies, and others yet indulged in deep fits of hysterical emotion (pictured below, bottom left)
Inside: We didn't want to let our parents in on this little secret, but the inside was a Halloween-rivaling level of sweet candy ecstasy. While technically these goodies could contain chocolate, vanilla, or strawberry centers, but everyone knew the chocolate ones were truly the epitome of Koala Yumminess. The packaging was somewhat odd and clearly reflected its Japanese origins through its complicated shape and construction. Rather than coming in an ordinary household-size box or bag, Koala Yummies lived in little cardboard octagonal prisms. There was no explanation offered for this idiosyncratic packaging, but it certainly made it more fun and plausible to play with the Yummies in the context of their three-dimensional stop sign-shaped house. This awkward shape and size meant that while consuming a full package of Koala Yummies was likely not recommended or healthy, it was certainly an easily attainable goal met by countless 90s youngsters.
As with the now-discontinued Dunakroos, 90s children have been experiencing extreme symptoms of Koala Yummy withdrawal since they were pulled from mainstream American markets. There are full sites, blogs, and lengthy forums devoted to the persistent and persevering quest for these tasty little Koala treats. Unfortunately, the public health community has yet to recognize this as a valid addiction worthy of treatment programs and/or methadone supplementation, but it certainly seems to have reach this level of cookie-crazed concern. Strung-out sugar-deficient 20-somethings beg and plead for a black-market source for their favorite discontinued snacks. A cursory Google search for Koala Yummies shows hundreds of requests, petitions, underground tips, and supposed store sightings. These are clearly more than cookies we're dealing with here, they're the snack of a generation.
There have, however, been some major breaks in this former cold case.
Exhibit A:
Exhibit B:
Your eyes do not deceive you. The once-beloved snacks of your childhood are still enjoying relative fame, and not just from doing the occasional Japanese commercial for extra income. Though now known as "Koala's March", these guys do appear suspiciously similar to our coveted Yummies of snack times past. Of course, that disgusting image of gooey, melty centers is a little off, but we can only imagine (read: pray) that this depiction is for illustrative purposes only. If you live near an Asian grocery or market that stocks ethnic specialty fare, you may be in luck.
Beware of imitations, though. The Meiji Seika corporation has been producing notorious knockoffs known in some Yummies-seeking circles as "Hello Panda". Do not be fooled by the octagonal packaging or similarly emoting cartoon animal images. Online Asian Food Grocer describes Hello Pandas as "Chocolate cream filled biscuits that are surprisingly tasty with no oily after taste. Go ahead, try these finger sized biscuits. You wont be disappointed. Excellent for kids school time snack pack." Surprisingly tasty? Finger-sized? No thank you.
Our new Koala Yummies incarnate, however, on the other hand are described by the same vendor as "Chocolate cream filled biscuits that are surprisingly tasty with no oily after taste. Go ahead, try these finger sized biscuits. You wont be disappointed. Excellent for kids school time snack pack." Wait a second. That sounds suspiciously familiar.
So whether you choose to sell out to Hello Panda or continue to support your old standards with Koala's March, you can still purchase these once-forgotten goodies online.
Just remember not to follow it up with anything vaguely nutritional for a truly authentic 90s snacking experience.
