Holding on for an Action Hero
What do Morty Seinfeld and Sylvester Stallone have in common? Besides both being fictional characters, they both hate Velcro!
I thank any number of deities that Sly came out of hiding to inform us that the death of the true action hero occurred in 1989, when the first Batman movie came out. From the LA Times article: “It was that first Batman movie,” he said, referring to the 1989 film starring Michael Keaton, an actor never known for biceps. “The action movies changed radically when it became possible to Velcro your muscles on. It was the beginning of a new era. The visual took over. The special effects became more important than the single person. That was the beginning of the end.”
Some might argue that the beginning of the end was when it seemed as though moviegoers seemed to start believing that plot and acting ability should carry a movie rather than guns, steroids, and explosions. After all, who could pass up movies about an arm-wrestling, truck-driving single dad (Over the Top), a prisoner who is victimized by a mean warden that has a vendetta because the prisoner broke out of one of his jails years before (Lock Up), and a cool, get-the-badguy-at-all-costs super cop who believes that “Crime is the disease. Meet the cure.” (Cobra)
Ah, yes–the ’80s action hero flicks–those were the days. Any time I lament the fact that there don’t seem to be any movies coming out that are not based on a book, play, or comic book (i.e., any original screenplay-type movies), I can look back at Stallone, Jean Claude Van Damme, and Arnold Schwarzennegger movies and be thankful for this trend.
On a related topic–that does not stray too far from action heroes–when I was in an embryonic pop cultural state many years ago, I was big into the WWF (no, not the World Wildlife Fund–I am not cultured enough to have paid any attention to a fund dedicated to a noble cause). I was into the inner workings of hitting people with folding chairs, suplexes, and bodyslams. And Sly was too, as evidenced by Hulk Hogan’s appearance in Rocky III.
Anyway, the late great wrestling manager Freddie Blassie bombastically and wonderfully came up with one of the all-time classic pop cultural put-down lines, bestowing unto the world the phrase “pencil-necked geek” in reference to folks who dared to dissent from his way of thinking. You stay Blassie, Seattle!
For years, I had felt as though a huge gap existed in my pop cultural life. As though that part of my brain that celebrated all things classically pop cultural (even before I really had a clear idea of what pop culture was or would be) was atrophying from not getting enough nourishment. Don’t get me wrong, “pencil-necked geek” was awesome–versatile, snappy, sublime. It was the perfect assemblage of words, but it was lonely, my friends. So lonely.
Now along comes Sylvester Stallone and his “Velcro muscles.” That’s what I’m talking about! Phraseology like this–so powerful and yet so succinct–comes along once in a generation. We’re truly lucky to be alive at this exciting time. Thank you, Mr. Stallone. I hope I am lucky enough to be alive when the next thespian comes out with the phrase that will move a generation. Arnold? Jean Claude? Perhaps you’d like to take a shot? Please?
Thanks MTV, for Pimpin’ My Blog!
Yes, you do recognize the paraphrased post title as the immortal words (“Thanks MTV, For Pimpin’ My Ride!”) that closed out each episode of my all-time favorite reality show, Pimp My Ride. It was great – a reality show where you really didn’t have to do anything – and you got something pretty cool for your time.
All you needed to be part of the fun was to be young, Californian, and to have a really crappy car. The worse the car was, the better. And the truly best part of it – it didn’t matter what you looked like. All you had to have was an ability to shriek, jump around, and act overly excited like a Wheel of Fortune contestant, and the show took care of the rest.
It was great. They’d take cars that you’d assume would have trouble going around the block and turn them into showroom cars, complete with fly body kit repairs, new paint jobs, dope rims, and fresh additions like pop out tents, music recording/mixing equipment, video screens, and more speakers than you can shake a mic at!
If you had a hobby, the guys at West Coast Customs (and later, Galpin Auto Sports [GAS]) would find some way to incorporate it into your car. It wasn’t long before they’d be explaining how they were going to put a fully functioning IMAX theater – complete with four stadium seats – into the trunk. And just when you’d determined that they couldn’t do it – they did!
Often you’d learn something along the way – about physics or auto repair. The guys who did the work (Mad Mike, Ish, Big Dane, just to name a few) were engaging and hilarious – sometimes slipping into dream sequences – and always trying to do something really cool for the car owner. Add in the very funny and entertaining Xzibit (sorry, X, never heard a note of your music. Still friends?), and you’ve got yourself a little car party.
The only problem I could ever see with the show is that you’d lose your backseat, no matter what they were doing to the car. If they didn’t incorporate your favorite leisure activity, they’d fill the trunk and back seat area with plasma screens and woofers. Of course, that’s not all bad, as they’d often hook folks up with some new and awesome remote-controlled music or video gadget. I’m sure it’s just my age that has me thinking I wouldn’t mind retaining the back seat.
The show would begin with the unsuspecting car owner (always pleasantly surprised to find Xzibit knocking on their door) explaining all of the “undocumented features” of the car – such as hotwire starts, multiple color (and car) panels, critters in the backseat, and the most, um, amazing array of food parts and trash that one could fit into a car. Then there was the moment that X would hop in and drive the car to the shop. There were more than a few times that he expressed fear to be driving one of these death traps, or skepticism that the car would even make the ride. Rest assured – X always got the car to the WCC or GAS guys.
Cut to the car owner’s friends talking about how great this person is and how he/she really deserved a great car. The thing was – after hearing their story – it was hard not to agree. A lot of reality shows feature folks grabbing for fame or folks who are just plain obnoxious (please pardon the generalization – I acknowledge that this assessment is not true across the board). Pimp was a show for the everyman. A show that genuinely made a person’s life a little better.
And what’s wrong with that? I only wish that I was young, Californian, and had a crappy car. Hey, X – why not give Jersey a shot?
The Daily Show… and Whales
I know what you’re thinking – what the hell is Mike blathering about this time? What do whales have to do with The Daily Show? Not to worry, it will all make even less sense after I’ve explained.
Here’s the thing: I don’t watch The Daily Show. I am, of course, aware of it’s existence, and I know many people who do watch it. I did watch it, way back in it’s embryonic years when Craig Kilborn was the host.
My three favorite Daily Show moments (I am taking journalistic license and dropping ‘the’ from some future Daily Show references) are as follows:
Okay – so what compelled me to write about The Daily Show now? And what does any of this have to do with whales?? Patience.
I was recently doing something at work that necessitated me to click a link and jump over to The Daily Show‘s web site. My main reason for doing this was to make sure the link I was using was a valid link.
When I got to the site, I saw something that caught my eye under an orange “Breaking News” banner: “The Daily Show Women Respond. What it’s actually like to work at The Daily Show and have lady parts.”
My lovely wife has often snickered at me and my lack of currency when it comes to pop cultural events or people going on in the now:
Credit where credit is due: My first exposure to bedazzling anything came during The Apprentice, when Tana Goertz dragged her team all over creation to find a bedazzler for one of their tasks. Amazingly, she didn’t win. I’ll bet if she had bedazzled her Va-Jay-Jay on the show, Donald Trump may have chosen differently.
Ahem…I admit that I can be a little behind the times, but I think I do a pretty good job of keeping myself aware of pop cultural minutiae. But this Daily Show thing – I totally missed the boat on that. And now, I had to put on my investigative reporter hat and find out more.
An aside: I went to The Daily Show site today, and the featured video was Jon Stewart talking about the LeBron James “Decision.” Don’t worry, I’m not going to talk about that at length. Anyway – the commentary was pretty funny and I’m glad I watched it. If you’re in the mood for a laugh, I’d recommend looking it up. It was also followed up by a hilarious Newcastle Brown Ale commercial. Might have been funnier than the commentary.
Now – back to the “lady parts”… I searched around to see what had inspired the funny message from the Daily Show women, and came across a New York Times blog that explained everything.
Then, I went and found the original jezebel.com article that started this whole thing. Interesting reading – and like many articles that are looking to push a certain point, it’s loaded in one direction and features a lot of examples that support the writer’s point, and downplays the points against the writer’s ideas. Makes perfect sense. Think of your own arguing style – I do that as well.
If you read the Jezebel article and then read the “Women of The Daily Show” follow up, it makes for a good, pop cultural experience. And for me, it was a random occurence that enabled me to expand my own Pop Cultural Capital. And maybe, just maybe, I’ve brought some hilarious comedy to your life. You’re welcome.
Oh – in case you forgot: what does The Daily Show have to do with whales? Consistent readers of this blog (and I truly thank them for doing so – especially when they comment) might note that if I don’t watch The Daily Show, how can I comment on it?
To which I will leave you with a Lou Grant quote from the classic Mary Tyler Moore show: “You don’t have to be a whale to write Moby Dick.”
Greatness and Responsibility
It seems impossible that the legendary Stan Lee coined the awesome saying “With great power comes great responsibility” – but it appears to be the truth, buddy. It’s such a great turn of phrase that it does sound like it must have been lifted from somewhere. But it looks like ol’ Stan is the one who said it first.
If imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, Stan Lee has been flattered quite a bit. On my way home from work, I heard a beer commercial that used the line “with great beer, comes great responsibility.”
This got me to thinking. A few months ago, I had a conversation about this phrase and whether or not it could be true that Stan Lee had actually coined it. Like the Yahoo! Answers cited above, I couldn’t find anything to indicate otherwise.
And then I started noticing that a lot of products and/or items used some variation of this teriffic phrase:
Who knew? I think that Stan Lee would be proud to know that his words have inspired so many writers, even if they may not have known from where they were borrowing. And it is a very versatile phrase. You could pretty much remove “power” and put anything in its place. Try it -it’s like Mad Libs – the results can be quite humorous.
How about this? “With great blogging comes great responsibility.”
I will make every effort to blog responsibly. Unless beer is involved – then the results could be quite irresponsible blogging. But then the posts might be a bit more interesting. I am willing to take on this challenge for you, my prized readers.
‘Nuff said!
Spider-Man Reboot: Good News/Bad News
The Good News
Well, Yahoo certainly grabbed my attention with the news that Marc Webb will direct the next installment of the Spider-Man movie franchise.
As a reader/fan of Spider-Man since Morgan Freeman’s Easy Reader teamed up with Spidey in Electric Company Magazine (and the TV show) to help foster a love of reading, I am always at least going to investigate any news I hear about ol’ Web-Head.
Another blog of mine documents quite thoroughly my less than enthusiastic reception to the events of the Spider-Man comics in recent years. I even went as far as to suggest alternatives to the Amazing Spider-Man title because I was so disenchanted.
But this was not the case with the first two Spider-Man movies. I appreciated Sam Raimi’s attention to detail and his willingness to include so much of the comic book magic that has made Spidey one of the world’s most popular characters. Especially in Spider-Man 2, when he paid a heavy homage to the events of Amazing Spider-Man 50. A lot of the scenes in the movie – the costume discarded into a trash can, J. Jonah Jameson displaying the costume in his office and finally, Spidey reclaiming his costume from JJJ when he returned – were respectfully borrowed from that classic comic book. As a Spider-Man fan from age 5, how could I not like these movies?
As with so many once great things, everything changes. Unsurprisingly, Sam Raimi will no longer be associated with the Spider-Man franchise. This has been hinted at for a while now. And don’t think that the irony of someone named Webb involved with Spider-Man has escaped me. I just can’t come up with a good enough pun to throw at you. I may have to leave this one alone and let other sites have a field day.
The other major change is, of course, Tobey Maguire will not be portraying the web-spinner. There’s a new Web-Head in town, Andrew Garfield. No idea who this guy is, but if he’s a friend of Peter Parker’s then he’s a friend of mine. So what if he’s 26 and British and playing a teenaged American… that, to me, is not the bad news.
The Bad News
This quote from the aforementioned article pretty much says it all: “The trade further reported that the film will star (looks like OMG needs an editor – they have “star” here) a cast of unknowns and take inspiration on the “Ultimate Spider-Man” comic book series — itself a recent reboot, by writer Brian Michael Bendis — rather than the character’s original, 1960s continuity.”
The films will be based on the Spider-Man reboot. The series that was pretty much reviled by someone who could pretty much be counted on to like and/or buy any Spider-Man-related comic book, game, mug, lightswitch cover, record, action figure (the cool ’70s Mego ones) or roll of toilet paper (it featured panels from Amazing Spider-Man 119 and 120) that even hinted that Spidey was involved.
I didn’t necessarily start out disliking Ultimate Spider-Man, but then I read it. It wasn’t any better than the great Stan Lee/Steve Ditko classic 1963 introductory issues. In fact, I’d say that Ultimate paled in comparison. There were a few updates and nuances that may have benefitted from being able to view the history of Spider-Man through the prism of 35 years of pretty consistently good storytelling. It was the major change that really ticked me off.
It was making Mary Jane Watson the main female character in Peter’s life instead of Gwen Stacy. The true appeal of Amazing Spider-Man – to me – was the tragic love story of the cursed Peter Parker/Spider-Man who basically was a loner, but he had this awesome girlfriend in Gwen Stacy. Then, Marvel had the cahones to actually have Gwen killed by Spider-Man’s mortal enemy, the Green Goblin – who was Peter’s best friend’s father, Norman Osborn.
Now, reading this, you may be thinking that I have this all wrong. That’s not the way that the movie version of Spider-Man portrayed this. That’s correct. Sam Raimi cunningly mixed elements of the original Amazing Spider-Man with elements of Ultimate Spider-Man.
As I mentioned, Mary Jane as Peter’s first love and knowing he was Spider-Man from the get-go is strictly a device from Ultimate Spider-Man that was used in the movie. This is really too bad, because in the comics, Gwen and Mary Jane were both present at the same time and even sparred over Peter a bit. After Gwen died, Mary Jane became Peter’s girlfriend, and, eventually, his wife.
Why does this bug me so much? Because I am a traditionalist. The elements that Stan Lee put into the first 100 or so issues of Amazing Spider-Man are among the finest comic book works you’re going to find. We didn’t need for them to be reworked or updated. If the filmmakers did little more than make these comics into movies, they’d be able to make at least 10 great Spider-Man movies. There was no reason to remove the Gwen Stacy love story from Spider-Man. It gave the Spider-Man comics a different feel than all the other comics I was reading.
I don’t know – perhaps I am looking at it through rose-colored glasses. I always felt that this aspect of Spider-Man was the main aspect that made the character so popular. It was a very human element. Isolation. Love. And the battle that was waged (because he was Spider-Man and couldn’t tell her) that always seemed to conspire to keep them apart. And ended in tragedy, when Spider-Man was unable to save her as he had saved so many others. As he had been unable to save the life of her father before her.
It’s a shame that Gwen Stacy has been kicked to the curb as she has, but it is what it is. I’ll still go and see the movies. I do think that making Mad Men’s Christina Hendricks Mary Jane Watson in the upcoming (2012) movie could make me forget about this whole Gwen Stacy thing though. Maybe. Probably. Just something to think about…
I Pledge Allegiance to LeBron…
Maybe it’s just me, but I think that the coverage of the LeBron James situation that has been going on almost ceaselessly since the basketball season ended is just a bit ridiculous and overdone.
Journalism’s general slide into the abyss has been happening for a while now, but I think that the LeBron James “where will he sign” coverage has reduced the shrinking journalistic integrity pool that sports related media outlets such as ESPN had left to an even more evaporated state.
ESPN’s band of merry speculators, led by Mike Greenberg (Mike & Mike In The Morning on ESPN Radio), have been hammering away at the LeBron sweepstakes for a while, and now they’re just piling on. It’s a shame, but I find myself less and less interested in listening to ESPN Radio on the drive to work these days. I really used to enjoy that on my ride in, but I am frequently turning it off these days.
And just what the heck do I mean by “speculators”? you may ask. A fair question. Why not think about becoming a journalist? The profession could use some sensible, smart people to report on events in the sports world. It’s a noble and underappreciated calling.
Since when did doing nothing but speculating on a news event count as reporting? Listen to ESPN these days. You get speculation on how Washington National rookie pitcher Stephen Strasburg will soon be the most dominant pitcher in the league. I get the impression from some of the ESPN guys that they firmly believe that this is already true. Forget the fact that the guy has pitched in the major leagues for about a month. He’s the best EVER! Step aside, Cy Young.
Then there’s Mel Kiper blathering on and on about potential pro football prospects. Could anything (Kiper’s opinion, or anyone’s opinion for that matter) be more subjective? But it’s presented as though it’s fact. Weather forecasters are routinely mocked for failing to accurately predict the weather. Why isn’t Kiper mocked for failing to accurately predict the NFL draft? Like weather folks, he gets a lot right – but a lot of his “can’t miss” prospects, well…miss.
And finally, the one thing that may signal the end of ESPN as we know it. LeBron James may actually do something. He may actually…decide what team he’s going to play for. The team will shell out millions for this “honor” and then sit back and watch the advertisers, fans and sports pundits enter into an orgasmic fit that will end up covering everyone within range with juicy hyperbole.
We’ll hear how that team is now poised to win a championship. How their long-suffering fans finally have something to cheer about. How this is such a good thing for the NBA. How LeBron James signing with (insert stupid team name here) will be the sports move of the century. And the poor, battered, starved-for-legitimate-sportswriting fan will hear about it for hours on end every day until basketball season begins. And then once the season begins, we’ll have to hear about it all day, every day.
The only sensible thing to do is to change the channel and not pay ESPN any mind. But then what if I want to keep up with my favorite sports? Read the newspaper, I guess. So far, it looks like ESPN is pretty much the only sporting outlet that feels that LeBron James needs his own channel to handle all the speculation and “interesting” tid bits about him.
Did you hear about the Chicago Bulls and their dare to LeBron? Ooh. Sounds like something really interesting, doesn’t it? Without even knowing the details…it doesn’t sound interesting at all to me. Just more hot air. And it’s already hot enough on the east coast of the US.
I am intrigued that there’s such a kerfuffle being made over a player that has not won a championship, and by ESPN’s estimation, quit on his team during the most recent playoff run. I don’t give a rat’s behind about the NBA, so I will not comment on whether or not he quit. But I don’t have to be a basketball expert to know that he brings nothing resembling a championship ring to the table. He and I have the same number of NBA championships. So, I suspect, does anyone reading this.
LeBron, please – do us all a favor. Sign with some damn team already and end this. Or tell some idiot NBA owner that you want to visit Mir and take some time away from Earth to mull over the decision. I beg you. Do something. Anything. Make this (the biggest non-story in all of sport) go away. Even you must be tired of hearing about it.
Wonder Woman’s New Look
Ho hum. So…DC Comics is changing Wonder Woman’s look and the direction of the series. Again.
The Yahoo write up imparts little information that is of any real interest, even though it’s presented as a momentus event that should finally galvanize sales for this title that has always been there in the DC catalog, but has largely escaped the traditional cacophony of fanboy conversations.
In fact, the main focus of any WW conversation over the years has been about bondage, and WW’s unerring ability to get herself into this… interesting scenario. Go ahead – run a google search “wonder woman bondage” and see for yourself just how prevalent this concept is.
It’s safe to say that I was (am) a pretty hardcore comic book geek. I think I fall short of the true fanboy status, as I have never attended a convention in costume – but I’ve been around the block enough to know that WW was just one of those titles that never seemed to be catching the attention of the mainstream comic book audience.
There have been times over the years – George Perez’s run and Greg Rucka’s run – where Wonder Woman was treated as something more than a secondary character in the DC catalog. But mostly, it’s been crickets for Diana Prince.
And the ’70s TV show did little to change things, save for, perhaps pushing the bondage concept to new levels. I won’t speak for all fanboys, but I will say that my lasting image of the show is Lynda Carter in a skimpy costume, pretty much fulfilling the impossible fantasy of the ideal woman that WW was supposed to be. I don’t recall Carter being tied up in every episode, but I’m sure the temptation to have done so was there.
I can’t say if it was William Moulton Marston’s intention for bondage to be such a central theme, but he certainly equipped her with the trappings. She had a magic lasso that made you tell the truth, bracelets that deflected bullets, the skimpy costume and a tiara (not much that would be of any actual use in fighting crime). I would think it would be challenging to figure out how to go in Batman or Superman type directions with this kind of material to work with.
And now DC has changed the costume and direction of the title once more. I’m guessing that it won’t be long before the readers and DC Comics get bored with this and we’ll be seeing the “considerably less revealing, complete with long pants and a jacket” attired WW all tied up. After all, “Signature elements such as the character’s bracelets, tiara and magic lasso remain” according to the Yahoo article.
I hope I’m wrong – I hope that DC will give the comic book fan some credit and actually produce some competent, entertaining stories that will actually make this character worthy of the false idea that DC promotes that WW is one of their three flagship characters – the “trinity” as they call it – along with Superman and Batman. I don’t see this, but perhaps I am being too cynical or insular.
More often than not, DC Comics (and Marvel Comics, too – I don’t want it to seem like I am unfairly singling DC out here) decides that poor sales or the fact that the storylines are not really workin’ out so well, makes it time for a reboot of the title, complete with the annoying renumbering. I hate the renumbering, by the way. It’s not a solution to what ails the title, but it has happened to most of the major DC and Marvel titles.
I have a better solution: simply give the fans some credit and write better stories. Pair up writers with titles they want to work on, and move on when this has run it’s course. The renumbering is a band-aid – it almost always comes with a new writer (for Wonder Woman, it was Jodi Picoult’s 2007 5-issue run – see what I mean about getting bored?) who starts all afire with enthusiasm. And then – many times – it inevitably flames out as the new writer moves on to other projects and we’re returned to the same old storylines.
If the creative direction of the title isn’t working, it’s silly to imply that the costume is the problem. Facing the upleasant truth that it’s more likely uninspired writers/creative teams would be a much more sensible conclusion to draw. But this is just one fan’s opinion – clearly the powers that be at DC Comics disagree with my assessment, and, quite frankly, they have much more at stake than I do. So they must know what they’re doing, mustn’t they?
Last Night a Wilco Saved My Life…
I had given up all hope. These were desperate times, my friends.
Flashback to the summer of 2009: word creeps in that my all-time favorite beer – Dinkel Acker – will no longer be distributed in the US. I brushed this off. Surely it can’t be true!
Much to my chagrin, as 2009 closes out, I find that there is truth to these rumors. So the hunt begins. I walked into liquor store after liquor store asking if they had any Dinkel Acker. After quizzical looks from the stock dudes, I explained that it’s a very good German beer – and that it seems to be in the tragic and shortsighted category of no longer being distributed in the US.
As 2009 drew to a close, I realized that the two bottles of Dink that I had left in my fridge were probably the last ones I would ever have.
Then – the oasis. In a last ditch try, on the way to a party in November, we stopped at Martin’s Liquors in Mt. Laurel, NJ – and I feebly mentioned Dinkel Acker to the cashier. Instead of the usual crushing blow, I heard sympathetic talk. “Hang on a minute,” the guy said. “I think we might have some of that.”
I didn’t allow myself to get my hopes up. It had been too many months since anyone indicated that the Dink could be within pouring range of my poor, starved gullet. But after a quick check, Martin’s produced three 12-packs.
If, like Tom & Jerry, my eyes could literally roll out of my head with 12-packs of Dinkel Acker in place of the pupils, that’s what would have happened. I was thrilled. “I’ll take it all,” I said. And I did. That was all I had left of my beloved Dinkel Acker – 36 bottles of wonderful beer that has been brewed “in strict accordance to the German purity law of 1516.”
It was a real labor of love to stretch that Dinkel Acker out for four months.
In early spring, I found myself in a painfully familiar spot – there were only two Dinkel Ackers left in my fridge. For all I knew, these were the last two Dinkel Ackers in all of the United States. I knew it was time. With a trembling hand, and a heavy heart, I opened the last two bottles, and that was that. That was it for the Dinkel Acker. Time to move on and seek out an alternative. Oh sure – Molson, Yuengling, Grolsch – even Spaten are all good beers. But from now on, The Dink existed only in my memory banks.
Until last night. Until…the Empire. Or at least, until someone wonderful brought me a Roger Wilco flyer that actually mentioned this Shangri-La of beers. For a mere $20.99 per case. I was stunned to see it written on a current flyer. Remember, it had been three months since I consumed the last ones. And seven months since the last of the Dinkel Acker was purchased.
With a cautious, skipping heart beat, I called the Deptford Roger Wilco to ask about the Loch Ness Monster of beers. I was told that they had not only some – but they had five cases of it. Five cases! It was too good to be true. I asked the gentleman on the phone to repeat himself and confirm that he had actually laid eyes on these cases. He had. Too good to be true. I drove to Deptford (25 minutes away) with a real sense of hope.
And when I got there (cue angelic music and light) it was just as advertised. As promised, there were five beautiful, glorious cases of Dinkel Acker – and they were all mine. I felt like I had just completed the Louisiana Purchase. What a score!
After loading the cases into the car, I went back in to the store, as the guy who made this wonderful acquisition possible called the other Roger Wilcos to see if they had any Dinkel Acker. No such luck, but I totally appreciated his conspiratorial spirit. Kudos to the Deptford Roger Wilco – this guy’s cool handling of the situation just made this experience that much better. I came back to the car, and opened the trunk – just to make sure the cases were real and, most importantly, still there. They were. All was right with the world.
Perhaps I am making too much of the awesomeness of Dinkel Acker, but I don’t give a crap. I have five cases of it – and you don’t. I can’t thank Bridget enough for finding the ad that led to this purchase. I am enjoying a Dinkel Acker as I write this. Life is good. Sometimes, it’s something simple that can make all the difference. I am happy to be able to have another shot to enjoy my favorite beer. Viva la Dinkel Acker!
Quit Stalin and Get Russian!
Whoa! When I got into the Hot Tub Time Machine yesterday, I didn’t realize it was going to stop in 1984. Please let me backtrack a bit – It all started with the June 30th New York Post – which has a huge-fonted “The Spy Who Loved Us” banner headline with the sub headline “Russia’s NY minx painted the town red” accompanied by a picture of the “sexy redhead” Anna Chapman standing in front of the Statue of Liberty.
Gotta love the Post. Never able to resist humorously capitalizing on a nationalistic topic, they continue inside. My favorite – and totally respectful and professional – writing appears on page 7: “Who’s who-ski” which gives brief bios of the suspected Russian spies. Hoo boy-ski, do I love me some NY Post! Amusingly, the June 29th banner headline was ‘Red’ Head, so it’s safe to say that the Post was merely keeping up with a good riff.
Since the Post got the ball rolling, I figured I’d reflect on this whole spy business and look for the pop culture connection. I was struck by the fact that Chapman bears a striking similarity to the Marvel Comics character The Black Widow (Natasha Romanov) and, of course, Scarlett Johanssen, who played this character in Iron Man 2. I suppose if you’re going to be a red-haired Russian female spy, there aren’t too many other role models out there to choose from.
That tomfoolery was certainly fun and interesting, but I felt like I was giving this short pop culture shrift. Then I took a trip through the darkened, cobwebbed corners of my mind – back to the 80s – to try to remember what life was like when there was a Berlin Wall, Reaganomics, Yuri Andropov, an unbeatable Thursday TV lineup on NBC (Cosby Show, Family Ties, Cheers and Night Court) – and it was totally okay to hate an entire country! Let fly the 99 luftballons and let the good times roll!
First up: Sports! How about those Olympic boycotts (the US and 61 other countries – 1980 Moscow Olympics; and the USSR and 13 other countries – 1984 Los Angeles Olympics)? Boy, that was fun stuff. Nothing like letting political and philosophical differences get senselessly intertwined with sport.
And hey – so what if those athletes had spent four years training for the Olympics and may never get another chance to compete in the world’s greatest stage, thus crushing their life’s work, dreams of athletic glory and potential appearance on Wheaties boxes (we love you, Mary Lou!) across the US? We really need to send a message to these commies! Somewhat ironic that the 1980 boycott stemmed from the US’s not liking (a la Facebook) the USSR’s invasion of Afghanistan.
Remember Red Dawn? When Russia invaded the US and a band of kids, led by Patrick Swayze, Charlie Sheen, C. Thomas Howell, Jennifer Grey (Nobody puts Baby in a corner!) and Lea Thompson (where was Howard the Duck when you needed him?) fought the Reds and showed ’em that the US wasn’t going to back down? Wolverines!! Ah, doesn’t your heart pump red, white and blue pride-fueled blood just thinking about it?
And then there was Rocky IV – the big, bad, Russian boxer, Dolph Lundgren vs. Rocky Balboa – down, but not out. And ready to show the Russian people that – deep down, we’re all human. I love the training scenes. Rocky in a barn, with little to no equipment. Dolph in a high-tech government facility, with state-of-the-art training equipment and getting juiced whenever he felt like it.
After the great quotes: “He dies, he dies” and “I must break you” are uttered and the WWF-style staredown is completed, it’s time for the action. Rocky gets his ass handed to him until, by some miracle, he manages to cut the Russkie! Wait! He’s human! He CAN be beaten. Then cut to the soul stirring conclusion where Rocky addresses the crowd: “If I can change. And you can change. Then we all can change.”
Or something like that. And then the approving roar of the Russian crowd that minutes earlier would have cut out Rocky’s American heart and served it on a platter along with freedom fries and a cold cold glass of Stoli. Excuse me – I must wipe away a tear of pride…
But it wasn’t always that serious. I’ve already gone to the Family Ties well once before, so how about one more time? In one of my favorite episodes (my favorite being the one where Alex was taking speed), chess master Alex was charged with defending the honor of the USA by defeating the Russian chess prodigy, Ivan Rozmirovich.
Of course, things don’t go as planned, as Ivan attempts to throw the match to escape his very structured life as a political tool and then Alex counters by making a bad move of his own. Then they engage in fisticuffs – typical chess match, really. Remember the Harry Potter version of chess? Something like that.
Truly, it’s a very funny episode with some great lines (I’ll spare you as they’re probably only memorable and funny to me and out of context repeating them here would probably not do them justice) – but what I took away from this was the way the show approached the subject of USSR/US relations. First it made the Russian chess player an inhuman thing to be stopped at all costs (even mentioning a letter sent from the White House to cheer Alex on), and then turning it around and pointing out that, when you get right down to it, we’re (Rusians and Americans) not all that different. Kinda reminds me of the Joe Piscopo / Eddie Murphy duet on SNL that did a riotous riff on “Ebony and Ivory.”
WKRP in Cincinnati also had a funny take on Russian/American relations as a delegation of Russian hog experts comes to Cincinnati. The show goes on to reveal that one of the hog experts wishes to defect while in the US and asks the WKRP crew for help. They are only too happy to oblige, but before any real action can be taken, the delegation shows up and starts asking questions! This prompts Ivan Popasonaviski (did they even bother to give the Russian characters any other first name?) to pretend that he was not up to anything, but was instead looking to find out about the real America, which in turn prompts two classic lines:
“Black man held prisoner in small room” (referring to Venus Flytrap in the DJ studio) and “gives wrong ball scores too” (referring to newsman Les Nesman’s inability to actually deliver credible news).
And what commentary on the entertainment world’s portrayal of Russia in the 80s would be complete without Silver Spoons? Yes, it seems that even “The Ricker” got into the act, playing an American diplomat (or something like that) in a dream sequence phone conversation from the White House to the offices of the KGB (presumably). The stalwart Joel Higgins (“the dad”) also took part, playing Russian Premier Yuri Andropov. Hilarity ensued! Imagine my surprise when I looked Andropov up, that he looked nothing like the character that was portrayed… 🙂
“The Ricker” offers Higgins (Andropov, remember) a gum cigar. A very Russian sounding “I’ll chew it later” was the reply. Then the typical discussion of how Russia needed to change it’s ways followed, ending with this great Ricker rejoinder “Why don’t you go to the edge of a cliff, Yuri – Andropov?” Get it? Oh, my insides are aching as I laugh from the memory…
Ah, New York Post, you send me. Thanks for making hate mongering and nationalistic pride something cringeworthy and relevant again. Sylvester Stallone and Hulk Hogan have been waiting for this moment! But we still love you – just keep giving us those awesome headlines, and you know we’ll keep coming back for more.
Andy Blank
Mike Frangione
Depends on What the Meaning of the Word 'Blog' is 