8 Things I Always Wanted From My Childhood (No-pants Edition)

I really wanted to talk about something that didn’t involve my childhood or the 80’s or 90’s, but, since those make up the most appealing topics for me, we will all just have to deal with it. You can always just go and read some Buzzfeed article (I am sure they will probably plagiarize part of this anyway) and feel like you’ve accomplished reading at a 3^rd grade level for the day. It took me a while to come up with another subject, and I eventually got distracted while looking at old Sears catalogs, pointing out all of the things I wanted from the digital pages that are unavailable now. So after I was told to put on pants or leave the library where I was doing my research (people are so sensitive nowadays), I decided to write about some of those things. So, here we are with:

8 Things I Always Wanted From My Childhood

1          1. A Clear Phone

                                                                 "Fucking neon colors and all that shit. Gossip time, girls!"

If memory serves me correctly, my sister had one of these. I didn’t have a separate line, since I didn’t necessarily have “friends” that were tangible beings to call, but I always thought it would be awesome to have one of these as our main mode of contacting others. Why did I want one? Because they were amazing!. Instead of looking at some bland taupe-colored piece of crap, I could instead see the inner-workings of these beauties! Okay, so maybe they weren’t much better than a regular phone, but they had character. They were about as lazy an idea as Crystal Pepsi, but I think most of us bought into the short-lived craze. It proved a difficult task to gather any sort of historical information about these marvels, so my fabricated history goes as such:  

Craig Graham-Bell knew he had to make his mark in the communications world; his great-grandfather, Alexander, had invented the telephone, his grandfather the rotary dial telephone, his father the first mobile phone, and his cousin Terry had an idea for Nike Squeezers, a blatant rip-off of Reebok Pumps (they were never put into production or even acknowledged by Nike). While one day watching doing his anatomy studies for college, he stared at the see-through illustration of the human body when, according to him, he received a phone call breaking him from his trance. As he looked at the phone, he thought it  the world would benefit from being able to see into everyday products, as he promptly dropped out of medical school to pursue his dream. Incidentally, he was also a driving mind behind colored ketchup and Zima.

Okay, I got kind of lazy towards the end there, but these things deserve a story that is easily accessible via the internet, and I don’t see any of you doing anything. Anyway, there is a happy ending to this tale: I ended up getting a clear phone through eBay a year or so ago, and it is hanging on my wall as of this writing. I don’t have a land line connection to call anybody with, but I also still don’t have non-imaginary friends to call, so it’s just like my childhood!

2.  A Kirby Puckett Starting Lineup figure

"I don't have a clever comment."

Remember gathering sticks to tape together into human form, and then finding strands of your babysitters’ hair to put onto it and putting them in vague, sports-like poses? Neither do I, but I do remember having an extreme desire for Starting Lineup figures, which weren’t all that different. Unlike many other action figures at the time, these didn’t have much articulation, so they were pretty much stuck in one pose at all times, but they were essentially little statue-action figure hybrids of our favorite athletes! You could play with them, but more often than not, it only ended in frustration, as you moved on to better things. I directly attribute my love of multiple teams (and old logos) to these little fellas, as I had not only my favorite players (49ers and Cubs players) but also many from random teams like the Mets, Jets, St. Louis Cardinals, Yankees and Bulls. One guy I always wanted, however, was Kirby Puckett. At one point, my aunt had brought my brother and myself to a local drug store, and they actually carried some of these toys there. I couldn’t decide which I wanted, so we left empty-handed. It was in the car on the way home that I realized I had made a terrible mistake, but alas, it was too late. While I still have most of the figures I had back then, I have never fully recovered from not getting Puckett in all of his portly, plastic-y goodness. Guess it’s back to the twigs, then.

           

            3. Teleportation Pods

"Things are about to get ruff...hahahaHAHAHA."

Specifically from the 1986 remake of “The Fly,” starring Jeff Goldblum and Geena Davis. Now, if you haven’t seen that film, let me sum it up by saying that a scientist embarks on a journey to invent teleportation pods, with a mix of failures and successes, and hilarity ensues. And of course by hilarity I mean horrible, grotesque failures. A fly gets trapped in one of the pods and he unknowingly “fuses” with it, slowly turning into some kind of human/fly hybrid. I know, it sounds like the feel-good movie of the year, but it certainly isn’t; in fact, its terrifying, especially for kids. 

                                           "Yeah, going through life like this could present some problems"

I probably saw it shortly after it came to home video, which was quickly followed by a release on HBO, which was likely around age 6 or 7 for me. Sure I was horribly and irreparably scarred from it, but the most important takeaway for me was that this dude still teleported himself across a room with his invention, he just needed better quality control. Can you imagine a world where we could just hop into a pod and almost instantly transport hundreds, nay, thousands of miles away? I imagined it all of the time. Sure, you would inevitably end up with some mistakes, but a couple of people ending up looking like a He-Man villain is worth avoiding the commute to Disney World. This is definitely one that won’t be happening during my lifetime, however. You would essentially have to disintegrate every atom in your body and recreate it elsewhere, which is pretty much the same thing as dying every time you teleport. Not to mention that the amount of data that a computer would had to go through to accomplish this task would be outrageous. So, for now, it looks like I will be stuck either driving 20-some hours to the world’s favorite theme park, or be sandwiched between a guy that snores too loud and a lady who won’t stop talking about her ugly grandkids for several hours on a plane, followed by an uncomfortable taxi ride to a hotel that looks like a crime scene from CSI.

4. Dino-Riders

"I just came."

Dino-Riders was a 14-episode cartoon in 1988 about two races who, you guessed it, rode dinosaurs and fought one another after somehow being transported to prehistoric Earth (don’t bother asking). The good guys somehow befriended the dinosaurs, while the bad guys brainwashed them. Being an 80’s cartoon, it was primarily used as a 30-minute advertisement for the Tyco toy line of the same name. As you could probably figure out, the toy line was amazing! Roughly the same size as M.A.S.K. products (just Google it if you don’t know, I’m not here to hold your hand, dad), it featured all of your favorite dinos, equipped with lasers and rockets. Are you fucking kidding me?! This was like a little boy’s wet dream! I mean, you essentially have giant killing machines decorated with more killing machines. This would essentially be like putting rockets on tigers and sharks and watching people shit themselves as we drop several ranks on the food chain. I never had any of these, but holy hell did I want them. This entry is two-fold, however, as not only did I want the toys, I wanted an actual dinosaur to ride around on and shoot things. That is why this toy line is so memorable: it taps into the childhood fantasy of roughly 75% of kids (you are either part of the lame 25%, or you are just lying to yourself and should be ashamed). Specifically, I wanted the Brontosaurus or the T-Rex. I am not sure exactly how you go about befriending dinosaurs, but if it is anything like how I tried to “befriend” a rattlesnake when I was 23, it shouldn’t have gone that well. I likely would have been part of the brainwashing group, which means that, eventually, my reptilian pals would have turned on me and ripped me to shreds while shooting lasers down my throat and rockets up my ass. I suppose it’s a good thing I didn’t have a dinosaur around, then. But I still would like the toys,

                                 "I probably would have ended up with this retarded excuse for a dinosaur."

5.   Proton Pack

"We came, we saw, we...accidentally killed 46 people."

Anyone who really knows me knows that there are three movie series that continue to have a huge impact on my life, and one of them was Ghostbusters. From the moment I saw this foursome bustin’ ghosts, I wanted to be them. Even the second film, which is pretty widely regarded as the much weaker and lazier of the two, even by the film’s stars, is amazing to me. The cartoon, The Real Ghostbusters, allowed for toys to be made of this fantastic universe, and I eventually procured the Firehouse (one of my holy grails of toys), the figures and the Ecto-1, but there was still something missing: the proton pack. I wanted to recreate the movie as literally as I could, and I needed the number one ghost-catching product in the world. Did these actually exist? No, but that didn’t stop the rumors from swirling all around every kid in the world. Someone always had that friend who had a an unseen cousin in Canada that had a proton pack, which only fanned the flames that burned for these mythical devices. What the hell would we do with them, anyway? Sure, I believed in ghosts back then, but surely there still wasn’t anywhere near a cry for help equivalent to the films. If this was to be a job, I would have to settle for living in m parents’ basement for life, because this career path sure as hell wasn’t going to pay the bills. I don’t think I was aware, or paid attention to, the destructive capabilities of the packs, as the only rule I needed was to not cross the streams (but even that was questionable, because how the hell else do you get rid of a centuries-old god). I probably would have unintentionally fried a lot of animals in my neighborhood playing pretend, which definitely would have landed me in a mental institution at some point. So, I guess we have another product that the world is better off not having.

          

            6. Hoverboard

"Welcome to the future, bitch."

Yeah, we have all heard this one, so I don’t need to spend much time on it. Back to the Future is one of the other two move series that I mentioned earlier that largely shaped my childhood, and some of my adulthood. There were a few products from those movies that I loved, the DeLorean being most notable, but it should be quite apparent by now that I would never turn down a time travel device. It should also be quite apparent that I make questionable life choices and should get that rash looked at, but hey, the world isn’t perfect. The hoverboard is a no-brainer, even for those of us who would most certainly get severely injured on one. I didn’t skateboard in my childhood, and even what little I do now is usually restricted to shakily moving in one direction and firmly driving my body into the ground several times per trip. I should probably be more specific and say I wanted a Pit Bull, which is essentially a hoverboard with rockets on it (to go over water, and probably other things), but considering my lack of skill balancing on something that was clearly meant for children, it is probably a good idea I stick with the base model. Besides, the thing just looked cool, and remains a product heavily desired to this day, even prompting people to make their own. This is one of those products that has a definite possibility of being produced, but it is unlikely that it will work the same, or that I come across the money to purchase one. There is always hope for a wealthy distant relative to kick it and leave me a fortune, but let’s face it, at that point I’m just going to use any hypothetical money to fund an expedition to find Bigfoot.

 7. Lightsaber

"Anything is a dildo if you're brave enough."

Ah yes, the number one product that falls under the “every kid wants but is irresponsible to create” category. We all want one, so stop shaking your head. Even those of you who don’t care about Star Wars could find some sort of use for a laser sword, even if to slice bread and make toast at the same time. It could also be fun to try to bat away insects with, or keep children in line. They didn’t really make toys of these when I was younger, except for knockoffs that literally dubbed “laser swords” and gave us a whopping two minutes of waving them around in the air and accidentally hitting your brother in the face before you lose interest (and get beat up by said brother). It isn’t like an actual licensed toy would have been much better, but they did eventually make hyper-realistic lightsabers, complete with proper sound effects and the look and feel right out of the movies. While they still can’t help me perform surgery on my dad’s knee or anything, they make for some pretty awesome visuals when I have a battle with my brother or his daughter. Much like the other movie products on this list, this was a fantastic example of something I would most definitely hurt myself with; I mean, considering the amount of bruises I have received from nunchucks over the years, I can only imagine how dead I would be with one of these. Besides, most of us would have ended up looking like this kid. 

            8. The U.S.S. Flagg Aircraft Carrier from G.I. Joe

"Holy shit, that thing is beautiful."

Okay, so anyone who has spent a decent amount of time with me knows that this is the one product that I would take over all others, and the best part is that it is 100% safe to own! If you don’t know what G.I. Joe is, I already dislike you. This 7 ½-foot behemoth was the ocean-going command center for the 3 ¾-inch figures, and came with a PA system to announce aircraft launches, incoming attacks, and to publicly humiliate Gung-Ho and Shipwreck for dressing like stereotypical gay sailors. Released in 1985, the Flagg originally sold for roughly $99-$109. Not too bad considering now complete sets can fetch thousands of dollars. Only once did I actually see this toy in person, and the kid who had it didn’t want anyone playing with it (dick), so I was introduced to it and quickly ushered out the door. Imagine meeting the girl of your dreams, and then someone promptly tells you that you can’t do anything about it and have to leave and that you have to put your clothes back on in public. That is exactly what happened here. Admittedly I didn’t, and still don’t have the room to house an item of that size, but I would imagine that the day I do is the day I could likely afford to purchase something so frivolously. If nothing else, it could serve as one hell of a coffee table, but honestly, it would be a complete shame not to play with it, and I would totally get my money’s worth of playtime with that thing. For the first week I would likely be a hermit, and eventually my playing would evolve into making a series of short films with elaborate plotlines and scripting, complete with an original soundtrack created on my Yamaha keyboard and enough lens flare to make J.J. Abrams jealous. Soon my time would likely be consumed by this thing, and eventually I would die of starvation and loneliness. But at least I would already have a coffin available, you just have to hollow it out. And as my body was set in the ocean inside of the toy I had coveted for so long, someone gets on the PA system and loudly proclaims “And we send Shawn off to that big, unknown ocean called death. He would not want you to be sad, but instead imagine him battling the forces of Cobra forever, something he often dreamed about, aboard his favorite toy/vehicle/piece of furniture. Also, is anyone else seeing what Gung-Ho and Shipwreck are wearing? I mean, c’mon guys, you are setting the LGBT community back, like, 30 years.”

"Look at all the fun I never got to have. Thanks a lot, dad."

So thanks for reading, and I have another post coming real soon, so be on the look out for that. Any comments can be directed towards the little comment section below, or something. Also, Brian, if you're reading this, you still owe me five bucks, jerk. 

                 

We All Need a Little Warrior Now and Then

Maybe it's the sentimental side of me, or maybe it's because I decided to have a drink after only consuming vegetables and protein shakes for several days to cut up, but I decided to write about the passing of the Ultimate Warrior (UW), aka Warrior, aka James Hellwig (yes, he legally changed his name to Warrior). So bear with me as I take you on this trip.

"So what if he is decorated like a Huffy?"

Now, I realize that some of you may not know who this guy is, and that is okay. For those that do, bear with me. James Hellwig, born June 15, 1959, was a bodybuilder-turned-professional wrestler from Indiana. Not to get too into the history, as I am sure that is not the reason any of you read my blog (it's cute that I think people read this, isn't it), but he joined the WWF in 1987. It wasn't long before he was the Intercontinental Champion (basically second place), and eventually defeated Hulk Hogan in Wrestlemania VI to become the World Champion, briefly holding both titles simultaneously, being the first to do so. So there is a little background for you, now let's move on to why I care.

Just to clear the air, I stopped watching wrestling in 1991-1992, when I was around 10. I think that is the appropriate age to stop watching staged fighting. Look at my brother, though, who watched it until at least 15 or so with me (yeah, I called you out, Brad, what are you going to do about it). However, up until that point, this guy was my favorite--our favorite--on-screen personality. This guy was amazing; to come into an event where everyone is doing some over-the-top acting and immediately take the spotlight took a lot. His entrance alone was enough to impregnate women and cause permanent priapism at the same time. Not only was the Warrior super jacked and tan, but he wore face paint!  And he was insane! Seriously, if you are going to click on one link out of all of my ramblings, it should be that one. You didn't do it, did you...now I'm sad. Moving on!

I remember the day my brother came back from a trip to Minot (that's in North Dakota, for all those who don't know) with the Hasbro WWF ring and two figures: Hulk Hogan and Andre the Giant.

 "With a combined steroid weight of 1,175 lbs..."

I was pumped! With this, we were going to be able to re-enact the battles we had seen on TV for so long! I know you can't get as excited about that, but you are wrong, and I hate you. But something was off; mainly that not only is it dumb for Randy Savage to be posing in cliched 80's sunglasses while being gorilla pressed, but we didn't have the Warrior! I don't remember when we actually got him, but we did, and it was glorious.  In fact, I remember the tenacity my big brother had when asking confused Target workers if they had any other figures in the back of the store (they actually would bring the box out sometimes and let us dig through it). I don't know why I remember things like that, other than it was probably one of the last times he and I truly worked together towards a common goal, and things like that tend to stick out in my mind (that should make up for calling you out earlier). Tonka's Wrestling Buddies also came out around the same time. Now, I don't think anyone knows about this outside of my brother and sister, but I had one stuffed animal that I can remember (a teddy bear...a killer teddy bear), and I used to cut out and color a Warrior mask for it to use since we never had a wrestling buddy.  

"They aren't dolls, so stop laughing"

We actually were able to see the Warrior perform as part of a tag team with Kerry Von Erich against Rick Rude (another favorite of mine) and Mr. Perfect in Dallas, TX. I know many of you don't care, but the story of Kerry Von Erich and the tragedy of his family is unrivaled, and I highly suggest looking it up. At this point in the story, the alcohol is wearing off, and I realize how odd it may seem that I am writing about a wrestler.  Well, you are reading it, so what does that make you?  Don't judge me. Okay, now that we have come to an understanding, let's flash forward a bit.

So, as stated, I stopped watching wrestling when I was about 10. I wasn't sure up to that point if it was real or not, but I was leaning towards it being sort of fake. Also, UW left for a time, so there wasn't much left to entertain me. I suppose you could also argue I was also getting a little old for that sort of thing to consume my time. Either way, I left it behind. 

I became interested in girls, sports (real ones), and money, and then joined the military. It was several years into my military service--and several pounds of fat--that I reacquainted myself with the Warrior, who would eventually inspire me to get back into shape. They guy wasn't the most respected entertainer out there, but it was undeniable how he had influenced those that watched him. Today, most that know me are aware how much of an influence James Hellwig had on my life.  At a time when I had allowed myself to get disgustingly out of shape, I had an inspiration to push my limits to go further in my exercises every day. A sticker of his face paint adorns my hockey helmet, and a couple of his action figures even sit atop the shelves in our spare room (at this point, they aren't toys, they are decorations), and guess what? I finally have that Wrestling Buddy, along with Hulk Hogan, permanently resting on the couch in the same room! How exciting is that?!  A question mark accentuated by an exclamation point means it is pretty exciting. I am pleasantly surprised my wife puts up with all of this, but seriously, would you say no to a guy who is not only the self-proclaimed king of read-heads, but also strives to become all yolked like the Warrior? The answer is no, no you wouldn't.  

"See?  This belt means I am king, Kristi and Andy (they know who they are)"

That picture was taken a while ago, when I had less hair. Anyway, we are losing the point here. At a time when I had lost what I wanted to be, this insane character was able to bring me back to my goals. Reminiscing about the UW has not only been a way to dig deep and find the little warrior inside of me to push harder (okay, I deserve to be laughed at there), but it also serves as a sort of portal to a memory of times long past; of an era when innocence overcame the reason of these events being real, and possibly most importantly when my older brother and I were able to achieve a common goal via our childhood imagination.  

Is this my finest piece?  No, not at all.  In fact, in the future some newspaper is going to turn me down for a job because of this blog, but who cares? I just hope you are able to grasp the point of this story: when it comes down to accomplishing our goals, maybe we all need a little bit of what the Ultimate Warrior has shown. He came from "parts unknown," and it is there to which he returns.  

Remember when...?

Disclaimer:  This is mainly aimed for my classmates, or at the least those roughly our age.  Some of it may not make sense, but it isn't like you were doing anything else important on the Internet.

Oh man, remember when we were young?  Well, I don't mean we are old now, but we sure aren't young young.  We are just under the halfway point for life expectancy (76 for men, 81 for women) in the U.S., so we really aren't far off from drooling on ourselves and mistaking the nice nursing home attendant for our grandson that never visits because it smells like death in our house.  That happens around 40, right?  I 'm not good with ages.  Personally, I am a few months older than EPCOT center in Disney World, and it's a strange thought knowing that European tourists began crapping themselves at the sight of a big, silver ball around the same time I was doing the same thing in my parents' living room.  But I am getting away from the point.  So, let me get down to the meat here.  

As anyone close enough to me knows, I am extremely nostalgic about my childhood.  Or maybe just the 80's and 90's, I don't know. The point is, not a day goes by where I don't think about how awesome it was for us back then.  Pretty much everything I write about involves time travel in some way, and I am currently working on a book that pretty much revolves around it (you should buy it...when I get finished).  Maybe my memory is so fresh, probably because I didn't take a lot of pictures.  For a long time I thought of this as a weakness, or maybe a psychological problem.  Was I so unhappy with my present that I was trying to live in the past?  Was roaming the DLHS halls in between classes and working late at McDonald's really that great?  Most importantly, longing for the past continued even after I met my wife, which really began to bother me, until I realized I just wanted to drag her into the past with me, and since we are close in age, she remembers the same pop culture events and follows along in my little retro memory adventures.  While it is true that currently, being 32 (damn, now I do feel old) and a college student, I am not where I would like to be professionally after spending 12 years in the military, I am actually enjoying my life much more now than when I was in the Air Force.  So what is up with my head-ball?

Some theorize that people experience nostalgia in order to cope with anxiety or a feeling of failure.   Well, that doesn't work with me.  First, I am one of the least anxious people I know, even if I constantly have a crippling fear that white Michael Jackson's ghost will appear in my bedroom to spoon with me, so that can't be it.  Failure?  As stated, I am not necessarily where I think I should be, but I am an extremely logical person, so I understand that I must endure higher education with students that were born around the same time I was learning how to tight-roll my jeans.

"Suddenly, not being appealing to the opposite sex makes sense..."

I will get to where I want shortly, so I am not too worried about that.  So is it some sort of weird, sexy disorder?  Well, at the very least, it can be considered more of a fundamental human strength, playing a much bigger part than we previously thought.  After doing a little research, which means I spent a lot of time on certain areas of Reddit, it turns out I am not alone in my little world.  That means at the very least it is not something I go through alone.  I have looked at this for a long time, and I think I have broken it down to somewhat sensible ideas.  As much as I told myself I wouldn't do another "list" as my next piece, it turns out I am a liar.  I lie to myself.  Get over it.  So here are the reasons, besides being mentally imbalanced, that I am just addicted our past.

The Colors

When we left the 80's behind, there were a few things that tagged along, and we were okay with that.  Namely, all of those awesome neon colors.  Now, it is very possible that only my mind works like this, but I find those extreme, vibrant hues to be awesome...almost embarrassingly so.  At one point or another, we all dressed similar to this...

...and it was amazing.  Truth be told, I still wear colors like this, just in less volume.  Maybe a t-shirt here or a pair of shoes there that have some neon on them, but I wear them proudly.  They don't necessarily trigger any memory and make me wistful, I just really enjoy the colors, even if they did make us look like we blindly walked into a special ed class on finger paint day.  Hell, even most of the designs on these articles of clothing look like they were drawn by Helen Keller having a seizure.  You may not like them, and that is fine.  But don't lie and say you were above them back then, because you weren't; nobody was, so just deal with it.

The Music
I am just going to put this out there: every song from the 90's was a soundtrack song, or at least could have been.  Think about your favorite songs from this decade, and then see if it was on a soundtrack or used in a movie trailer.  If it wasn't, it was either from the Family Values Tour or Amy Grant, and even her music was probably used by some never heard of Christian film.  Oh, you were into some pretty obscure stuff, you say?

"I only listen to Assuck and Savage Garden B-Sides"

I call bullshit.  Sure, you may have listened to the occasional rare song (I picked up as many Nine Inch Nails import CD's and singles as I could), but the majority of us were still crying in our bedrooms listening to "I Don't Want to Miss a Thing" by Aerosmith and claiming we only had the Armageddon soundtrack because some girl left it there and we hadn't gotten around to throwing it out yet.  I have a 90's playlist that is comprised of approximately 180 songs, and it grows every week.  Unlike the colors thing, listening to these songs does bring up memories (and not repressed ones where I was touched inappropriately at daycare).  A lot of 90's songs were related to movies because they were so damn catchy, and they literally defined our decade.  Some bands stayed dark and ominous, of course, but the radio waves, as well as our CD players and tape decks, were chock full of songs like "Kiss From A Rose," "Kiss Me," and  "All Star."  In case you didn't want to click on the links that I worked hard to make so you could be lazy and not look them up, those were from the movies Batman Forever, She's All That, and Mystery Men.  I say this often, but 90's songs are like pizza: even the worst is still good.  If you don't believe this one, put together a list of these songs and then try to explain how you ended up wearing Reebok Pumps and watching Can't Hardly Wait while sobbing quietly in your bedroom. 

Television 

Think back to your favorite TV show in the 90's.  No, seriously, stop reading and think about it, I can wait...

...okay Zack Morris, the time out is over.  Now, did the show you finally decided on have an easily understood message by the end?  Did it involve hip teenagers or young adults?  Did it involve lemurs having sex?  That last one was a test; if you answered yes, you should shut off your computer and seek therapy.  None of the shows we watched back then had unnecessarily convoluted stories or hard to grasp morals, they stopped just short of having scrolling text at the bottom stating the purpose of the episode along with an 800 number to call for additional info.  What's more is that they didn't have to take it down some twisted road to get there.  Most of them were happy and singing, or at the very least content where they were.  It could be argued that it was largely unrealistic, and that TV today portrays the real world, but who cares?  I live in the real world every day, why would I want to watch a TV show where others are doing the same thing I could do?  I know reality TV technically started a while ago, but it really took off in the early part of the 2000's.  Do I really feel like watching a bunch of people who I would rather slap with a dead halibut live together?  No, I want to see a group of characters tackle problems that none of us would ever actually face, like becoming addicted to caffeine pills so we could balance our studying and teenage pop group.  

"Shown above: Early attempts at bringing sexy back"

Quite a few of the best shows of the 90's were conveniently in one glorious spot: ABC's TGIF.  Friday night on ABC had a history with great shows such as Leave It to Beaver and The Brady Bunch, but we watched it for prime programming that consisted of Full House, Step By Step, and Family Matters, just to name a few.  Now, if you'll excuse me, I must have a marathon viewing of Saved by the Bell. 

The Food

I've written about this subject ad nauseam, but what can I say, I loved this era for food.  It was almost like science was putting all the backing and innovation it had into gimmicky foods.  Clear cola? Check.  Green ketchup?  Check!  It was probably a waste of resources, but that's what you get in a decade known for "Extreme!" marketing.  

"Complete with EXTREME anal seepage!"

Has it occurred to anyone else that the number of companies trying to market their product as healthy in the 90's was roughly equal to the number of Super Bowls the Minnesota Vikings have won?  Did no one care?!  I know I certainly didn't.  It is no wonder childhood obesity really took off in the latter half of the decade, we were too busy shoving our faces with Dunkaroos and Gushers to notice that little kids weren't fitting in swings quite as well as they used to.  I suppose it is fortunate that most of these foods really didn't make it past 2000, so I guess Y2K had some sort of killing effect after all.  I won't bore you with food anymore, mainly because you should have read my previous posts already (loser), and also I have a secret stash of Surge I have to pour over myself while listening to "Can You Feel The Love Tonight."

Technology

This is probably a bit misleading, since I am actually referring to the lack technology, but you get the idea.  Before we could mindlessly watch Netflix for hours upon hours while forgetting to wash ourselves for the past two weeks, or ignore the house fire next door while playing games on our phones, we had to get a little creative.  The internet was something of a novelty back then, and video games were more of something to do when every other option was exhausted.  Our maximum amount of technology realistically revolved around VCR's, a Walkman, or whatever Nerf had going on.  

"And that would be the last time Billy wasn't invited to Sally's tea parties"

But even with those amazing advances in technology, nothing really beat going outside and being around your friends.  And we actually talked!  We weren't waiting for a text or checking Facebook while trying to juggle a conversation, we actively entered a conversation by locking eyes, sending and receiving messages, and maybe slowly licking our lips to make the other person uncomfortable.  My friend Jeremy and I had a habit of rollerblading year round...in North Dakota.  That means that roughly 80% of the year we were trying to rollerblade through ice and snow (but when you are from a state that is #1 in binge drinking, I suppose it doesn't seem as dumb).  Technology was a convenience, sure, but we never really let it get in the way of being active in our community.  Don't get me wrong, I love the internet.  I remember doing a report on Zimbabwe in Mr. Flynn's history class and desperately trying to find a book on the subject, and settling for a picture from National Geographic while playing "Africa" by Toto in the background.  Needless, to say, the internet makes research a hell of a lot easier.  But should it be?  Half of the time we stop at the first source, refusing to look further and simply purporting wrong information.  Then it usually ends up on a social network feed being shared around by like-minded idiots.  

"I don't know what it is, but is sounds bad...SHARE!!"

Don't act like you don't remember that one, and that you didn't share it.  I, however, was an aspiring writer and journalist, so I researched it and found out how ridiculous you all looked.  Maybe we should have to work a little harder by using the Dewey Decimal System or microfilm or whatever.  That along with the decline in civic engagement we are seeing in our country tell me that something has gone horribly wrong in the past 20 or so years.  But if you must keep all of this technology around, try to use it properly, and don't let it take over your life.  Get out and do something in your community, go rollerblading in the winter with your friends, stand up naked in the back of your friend's truck while driving through the reservation if you must (those involved know what I'm talking about), but get out there.

Old Friendships

Alright, now this one may be directly attributed to school and not necessarily the 90's, but who cares.  The summer after I graduated high school, I went off into the Air Force.  It was something I wanted to do for as long as I could remember, and here I was, all ready to go off and serve my country.  But the thing was, I wanted to come back home to do it.  When the time came to choose where you want to be stationed, my top choices were in North Dakota or the surrounding bases, so imagine my surprise when I got Little Rock, Arkansas, a place that ranks somewhere around 82nd in education among the continental United States, and damn near first in sexual encounters with your sister.  

"So then I says 'Toothbrush?  You mean the thang you clean yer toilet with?'"

As it turned out, the computer erased my picks and just put me wherever they wanted me.  I was thrown into a bunch of people who either didn't want to be where they were, or were from there.  I made friends, of course, but only a handful that were meaningful enough to resonate within me.  While most of my friends either stayed in our hometown or went to a nearby college, I was thrust into the butthole of America with a mob of people as miserable as I was.  I completely skipped out on all of the parties and gradual process of forming new friendships.  It may come off as whiny, but I think I needed that slow transition.  It took about two months before I was rarely talking to my friends back home, as they were going about their lives just fine without me.  But here is where the 90's come into play: since I was already enjoying the decade and the events of it, being thrust into an entirely different culture without contact with my previous relationships was hard.  Fast forward a decade plus, and I immediately jumped into another culture upon leaving the Air Force.  My wife is my best friend, of course, but I will always reminisce about the people I was around growing up, and all of the things we did together.  It was important an important time for me, and nothing has ever been quite like it since.  I suppose the time frame is just a coincidence, but it certainly imprinted on me.  For now, I suppose the next best thing is to try to build a time machine to take my family back in time and laugh at everyone's hair.

"Oh yeah, I forgot the time machine thing had already been done."

Be a Fan, Not an Idiot.

     The New York Jets were my first favorite professional sports team, just to get that out of the way.  That may be shocking to those that have known me as a die hard San Francisco 49ers fan, but hold up a minute; I was probably about 5 years old, and hadn't quite grasped what football was.  All I knew was that I loved planes, and that was pretty much the only deciding factor in choosing where my loyalty went.  It probably helped that the NFL Huddles (cartoon versions of the NFL mascots made with the intention of drawing in children) and related merchandise hooked me like the materialistic little bastard I was.

Probably a better quarterback choice than Mark Sanchez

     That little guy flew into my life and came in for a landing right in my heart.  The Huddles were the stars of four NFL children's books about teamwork and fair play, which is an important thing to teach a kid so that he doesn't drop kick people during a regional Spelling Bee (by the way, I am so sorry, Brandon).  My love for everything crimson and gold didn't come until I had actually been informed that there was more to football than that, and realized that when I played, I enjoyed making those difficult catches the most, so naturally I gravitated towards the greatest wide receiver, Jerry Rice.  As a matter of fact, not a single favorite sports team of mine wasn't influenced by basically clever marketing.  Remember Starting Lineup figures?

They aren't dolls, they are action figures

     That is Darryl Strawberry, my first out of many Starting Lineup figures. See, I liked the Mets at the time, because this fellow was my first sports figure, the orange and blue color scheme was pleasing to my eyes, and if I used it during one of the freestyle rap battles about my favorite teams I was fond of when I was 8 years old, I could easily rhyme it with Jets. This guy was followed up shortly by two Jets figures, a St. Louis Cardinals figure, and then 49ers and Cubs figures. So you can see, I already had a fondness for random members of teams before I actually chose a favorite.  

     Eventually, as stated, I actually learned what these sports were and chose my respective favorite teams. Growing up in North Dakota, I didn't feel any obligation to a local team outside of college sports, so I had the luxury of picking whichever team I wanted - 49ers, Cubs, and Calgary Flames for hockey. But I wasn't quite a fanatic about those teams, just about the sport. Why? Because in my still developing mind, all of these athletes were doing amazing things, and carrying on legacies set years before they were even born, so that was enough to captivate me. It also helped that while my father and brother had their favorite teams, they were both fans of the sports themselves.  It was easy to find random teams' baseball caps lying around the house, or my brother collecting as many players' cards as he could just to get them all. Needless to say, I took notice. I loved the game, but I also loved the colors, the sounds, and the feeling you get when you are surrounded by thousands of fans, feeling the tension and excitement that come along with watching two rival teams go head to head. There was nothing like it, and it was something I could do with the other men in my family, so you could say it was almost a rite of passage.  

Whatever the opposite of this was, I was that

     Eventually, as children tend to do, I became an older child, and by that I mean a teenager. New first world problems and all to deal with, along with some of the old ones, like wetting the bed (that's normal, right?). Some of those problems included every single sports team that wasn't the one I was rooting for. I found myself hating Minnesota fans, because I was surrounded by them, and they were just as belligerent as I was. Probably more so, because what kind of person paints themselves purple, wears a horned hat and braids their hair?

Not, uh, not this guy.  I was talking about...some other, smaller guy.

     I did a complete turnaround. I was so focused on hating everyone else, I couldn't actually enjoy the game unless my team beat all others by 255 points or more, went to their houses and kicked their pets, and took over a small country. Incidentally, this is also around the time I noticed that my teams were performing increasingly worse. Coincidence? Of course, but it was ironic at the least. I didn't really let it affect the rest of my life, I mean, at least with the Cubs I was used to all of the losing, but I would still act like a typical trash talking idiot during the games. The worst part? There were a lot of great teams that I was either ignoring or spending way too much time hating, and even more great players and fans that were undeserving of that hostility.  

     Unfortunately, I played that role for much longer than I would like to admit. I can't quite recall if there was any one thing that helped me let go of that animosity, but I do know that remembering my love of the game helped a lot. It was the little things at first, like applauding when a receiver made a great catch or seeing a forward juke a goalie out of his mind with the puck, and eventually grew from there. It was only a few days ago I thought about buying a Baltimore Orioles hat in memory of one of my favorite baseball players (remembering all fo the cards I had of him), that of Cal Ripken Jr. It's such a relief when you realize that hating other teams doesn't make you a fan, it just makes you a jerk. That is what bothers me so much about fans these days: people in crowds have moved on from just yelling and cursing, to fighting, stabbing and shooting. That is indicative of a larger problem with society, and it should be kept off the field/arena/court/wherever. It is just a game, and has little to no bearing on your life. Sure, a little ribbing around the water cooler or at the bar is expected. I often have a little fun at my father's or brother's expense when my Niners beat their teams, usually followed by "I'm just kidding, it was a good game," not "I  hope your team dies in a horrible steel mill accident and they come back as ghosts and play death metal while you are trying to sleep." I don't say things like that because every athlete on that field is trying to do great things, and they have earned their position just as much as anyone on my teams. Also, I like to be civil to other fans, because every time I watch a game now, I get the same feeling I did when I was a growing up. I enjoy the sights, the sounds, the colors, the feeling of being surrounded by thousands of fans, and the tension and excitement that comes along with two rival teams going head to head. I remember that it makes me feel like a kid, as it should for other fans and athletes, and kids aren't belligerent fans. After all, it is just a game.  

Six modern pop culture things that I am sick of (and you should be, too).

Pop culture is constantly changing as time goes on. New phrases, looks, media and whatever else are being introduced to the world as the "next big thing," in a sort of out-with-the-old in-with-the-new sort of thing, leaving the time weathered and worn pieces of culture to be discarded, only to be held on to by the last few people who weren't aware of the changing times (looking at you, late 80's disco people).

"Only makes love to Bee Gees songs"

However, some of these fashions last a little too long, even by the majority. Now, I'm not talking about awesome acid washed jeans or rat tails, both of which are perfectly acceptable whenever you are, but things that never made much sense in the first place. So, I bring to you some items of current popular culture that should have gone the way of tech vests and valley girl style a long time ago.

1.  Like a Boss

This one has actually been around for a while. The first time I heard it was in the John Cusack movie "Better Off Dead," with Amanda Wyss' character talking about how she would go out with ski team captain Roy Stalin because "he's so boss." 

"Also rapes on the first date"

This seems pretty inoffensive; I mean, he is the captain of the Greendale High School Ski Team, which is kind of like a "boss" position, and he also plays guitar and skis the K-12. However, that is probably the most least-suitable-yet-still-acceptable usage of the phrase. Nowadays, it has somehow twisted into meaning somebody is awesome and admired, which is nothing like any boss I have had, and neither have you.  

"You'll clean Mr. Tibbles' poop and like it!"

Unless you are trying to say it is now cool to make you work late without pay and force you to babysit a cat for the weekend, I suggest we stop using "like a boss" for things we enjoy.

2.  Epic

Look the word epic up in the dictionary. I already have, but you are on a computer and should be able to do it yourself just fine.  But if you are lazy, I will just say that it pretty much can be summed up as any mixture of the words long, heroic, impressively great, and poetic. In my mind, very few things can be described this way outside of the cosmos, Lord of the Rings, and the 80's toy line Dino-Riders.  

"Appropriate use of the word epic"

Today, people are using epic to describe any number of mediocre things, such as getting out of work early, doing a handstand for more than 12 seconds, or when Aunt Helen fell off the Nordictrack. Is it nitpicking? Maybe, but I think people need to stop blowing things out of proportion, if only to save us from the disappointment felt when the true mediocrity of a situation is realized. If you tell me two guys had an epic fight and it did not involve swords, axes, or being shoulder deep down a velociraptor's throat that is also down the throat of a dragon, I am going to find it very hard to trust you ever again, or at least be convinced that the highlight of your day is typically finding leftover pizza after your shift at Chuck E Cheese's.

3.  Mustaches everywhere!

Let me first point out that I have nothing against facial hair. If you have the face for it, sport whatever you want, but be aware that mustaches are tricky in the first place. Few people beyond Magnum P.I. and Ron Swanson make it look like a desirable option to cover up those cold sores, but we are starting to see them take a different form. 

"It's pretty much its own character at this point"

I can respect that November has been turned into Movember, a prostate cancer awareness month that encourages donning a mustache to show your support, much like anything pink for breast cancer. What I find it hard to tolerate are the thousands of people who find it hilarious to attach a fake mustache to almost anything, including tattoos on fingers, throughout the entire year (and probably the rest of their lives). It isn't a funny thing to do, and it never was. Girls, trust me, it isn't cool or attractive to see you pop a handlebar mustache on that already slightly hairy lip that nobody informs you of, and guys, just grow one for yourself.  

I am not exactly sure when this became a thing, and I also do not fully understand why it did, but right now there are at least 1600 people who are wishing they would have just got that "Exit Only" tattoo above their anus instead.  

4.  Instagram

Although the basis for the technology of a camera has been around for centuries, the first successful fixed image was taken by a camera in 1816. Since then, great strides have been made so that you are able to take the clearest picture possible, even on your damn cell phone.  

"Shortly before the first crotch shot"

Eventually, Instagram made its way to the scene. According to a recent study I just made up, at least 68% of social networking users also use Instagram, almost exclusively as a way to stick it to those camera corporations and show you their food. I am still actually unsure as to what this product encompasses, but I am forced to sift through the many pictures that are made worse through its use. Personally, I take pictures so that I can capture memories, or so I can get candid photos of Steven Baldwin on the toilet to sell on eBay. What I don't want is to look back at my pictures and wonder why I smeared motor oil on the lens and used five different colored light bulbs before I took a shot of my dog eating cat poop. It may be a convenient place to store and share photos, but not at the expense that you force everyone you know to look at what looks like a sort of colored, saturated daguerreotype of the most uninteresting aspects of your life. 

But it's so deep

It isn't fooling anyone when you add a "vintage" filter on your photos, and it definitely won't get you noticed anymore than all of the other people who take the same picture using the same program. Instagram is to pictures what Russell Crowe was to music, and that is pure crap.

5.  Keep Calm and Shut the Hell Up

This one started out innocently enough. In 1939, Britain expected to get the crap bombed out of them by Germany, and introduced a motivational poster to improve the morale of the people, stating "Keep Calm and Carry On." Fast forward to the year 2000, where the posters are rediscovered and mass published so as not to be forgotten, or a trivialized moment in British history. Sounds like a noble enough cause, only every douchebag in the world decided to use it and slap it on any piece of merchandise they could to make a buck, quickly going the route of the "Propery of ______ Athletics" and "No Fear" products (only with a little more history, if you count British history as an actual thing).  

"Probably why they found Hitler with a batarang shoved in his mouth...and Robin's pantyhose"

It's understandable that some people would want an important piece of their past remembered, but it probably waters down the message a little bit when you change the words to "Keep Calm and Bowl" and mass produce the shit out of it. But hey, that is what we do here in the United States, over-saturate the market with a product as much as we can, a lot like...

6.  Bacon

Now, I must admit that being a vegetarian, I do not eat bacon. This does not mean, however that I never ate it, but it did play a part in me not wanting to eat strips of what is kind of a disgusting animal. That should be the end of the story, but lately bacon has taken almost a deity status, exalted above all other foods as a delicacy beyond reproach. To say you do not eat or care for bacon today is akin to painting a mural of the prophet Muhammad in Mecca while allowing a female stripper to teach kids about US history.  

"Probably just upset about the Zimmerman trial"

It wasn't always like this. Once upon a time, you went to a diner for breakfast, ordered bacon and eggs with a cup of black coffee, and ate your meal while your wife cleaned the floors back home. Now, a banner is rolled out and confetti flies as a mound of bacon is brought to you by James Hetfield and you are given a trophy...which incidentally is all bacon.

"He also does Bar Mitzvah's"

There are now such products as bacon gum, bacon lip balm, bacon spread, and all sorts of other things that make me sound like I am best friends with a mildly retarded shrimp boat captain who runs across the country for fun. Is any of it good?  I don't know, because I don't want to try a product that comes from what is basically fatty strips from Zuckerman's famous pig's belly. You can eat what you want, but I don't think there is any need to glorify anything about bacon that isn't preceded by the name Kevin.

"Man, what a slice"