How Can I Miss You If You Won’t Go Away?

A little more on nostalgia.

One thing I noticed on my list is that some of the cultural touchstones of my generation—Star Wars and Raiders of the Lost Ark, particularly—aren’t on my list of nostalgia movies. And I really do love Raiders, and I really did love Star Wars. They’re great movies, and came out right at the perfect time for me, when I was 8-11. Pretty much zero hour for nostalgia.

I guess the difference is: They kept coming out. Empire followed Star Wars, and was even better… but then Jedi came out, and it was good… but also kind of a letdown. I was in high school rather than elementary school, and instead of a mind-blowing experience, I got a really good action movie. And then neither of the Raiders movies grabbed me the same way as the first. Partially because I was older, and probably also because it’s breakneck pace simply wasn’t as new to me. (And maybe they weren’t as good. It’s been years since I’ve seen Temple of Doom or Last Crusade, and I didn’t even bother with the one this summer.)

And Star Wars, of course, returned with awfulness, to an extent that I’m surprised how thoroughly it killed my interest even in the original movies. That shouldn’t happen, but it did. But I don’t think it’s so much the drop in quality that makes me less nostalgic for these properties. It’s that, well, they’re properties. They kept coming out and were a constant presence at the time when I was growing up and realizing that these movies weren’t just amazing flights of imagination, but also launching pads for toys and games and lunchboxes and happy meals. If there’s just been one movie of each, the phenomenon would have passed before I recognized it. But since they kept coming out, each new movie was born to someone growing more cynical about the whole process. I was hardly a hard-nosed cynic at 14, but I was aware enough to know that people wanted to sell me things.

I wonder if the sweet spot of Star Wars nostalgia isn’t maybe 6 years younger than me, where the kids would have seen the first two movies on VHS or in the theater rereleases, and then they were taken to see Jedi for the first time. Their minds would be blown, just like mine was with that first movie. And then they would have had fifteen years of nothing… the perfect soil for nostalgia to take root. But since I first saw Star Wars, one thing has been layered on top of another so many times that the original moment I could be nostalgic for is lost under layers and layers of extraneous stuff.

This:

is occluded by this:

and by the time this comes out, who cares?

Strangely enough, I am still nostalgic for certain runs of comics I read as a kid: The Bates/Swan Superman of the 70s, the Bates/Novick Flash, the Levitz/Giffen Legion. I think, in their cases, there’s an opposite effect to a constant presence killing nostalgia. These books came out every month—so often, and with so much work produced, that I could be nostalgic for specific stories and runs without mixing it up with the properties themselves. I might not have noticed the departure of Irv Novick originally, but by the time Don Heck was drawing Flash a few years later, I knew my personal golden age on the title had passed... and later figured out when. And the Levitz run of Legion stood so high above what had come before that it was like comparing Star Wars to Solar Babies. It was incredible, world-expanding stuff. And even more important, it felt like it was mine.

Maybe that’s what nostalgia is. A sense of ownership of the material you love, and a true ownership of your own personal experience of reading/watching/listening to it. I remember hearing Styx’s “Too Much Time On My Hands” for the first time over the radio when my friend Tom slept over in 1979—the first time I ever listened to FM, top-40/rock radio. I’m not so nostalgic for that song, but man, do I remember that listen. That’s nostalgia.

We can’t own pop culture: it’s for everybody. It’s pop. But we can own our memories, and how these things touched us. I heard a story on the radio a while back about how when you remember an event that you’d forgotten for years, it’s much stronger and more precise—and more faithful to the truth of the event—than something you mull over every day. Which might be why Star Wars had progressively less hold on me when I got older and saw it in more and more contexts, and why Airplane—a movie I saw a lot in a specific time, and then not again for decades—hits me so much more strongly.

Rob

Just a Man Whose Circumstances Went Beyond His Control

Okay, ever since I posted my #12 fact ("I've got a secret."), I haven't been able to get Styx's "Mr. Roboto" out of my head. And the weird thing is, when I sing along to it (as I do when I'm alone, see fact #25), certain lyrics come out all gravelly. I sing, "I'm not a hero; I'm not the savior! Forget what you know!" and by the time I get to "forget what you know," I sound more like Neil Diamond singing "America." Then again, I think there's a certain kinship between the two singers. They have a similar kind of showmanship.

Rob

Zowie!

One hell of a good night last night.

Kathy and I headed downtown to Lucky Cheng’s Fortune Cookie Cabaret to see Starshine Burlesque’s tribute to the New York Comic Con, which involved lovely ladies dressed as superheroes, takin’ it off. And having a wicked time doing it.

But first, we stopped for dinner at a French bistro on Orchard Street where we dined outside in the temperate night air. We’re a week away from our 5-year anniversary, and since we honeymooned in Paris, this was like taking a little micro-honeymoon. Kathy enjoyed some steak frites, I had some delicious boeuf bourguignonne over fettuccinni, and we shared a goat cheese tart that makes me think that chèvre might be the queen of all cheeses. (Why not the king? No idea... I just get a sense of femininity about it. I imagine there’s a king and a prince and a jack and a jester as well.. there’s room for a great deal of cheese royalty in my court.)

Then, off to Lucky Cheng's, where we had a drink at the bar served by the lovely Lila (who stresses politeness), but we soon headed back to the Fortune Cookie Caberet, where Plum Manchego was setting forth with the pre-show go-go, in a green and white outfit that had me saying “My God... She’s full of stars...” So I already had my geek on, but for a while I was so deliriously happy that I had totally forgotten what the theme of the night was. I was just happy to be there. I told Kathy: “If I die, and all of this isn’t going on around me... I’ll know I’m in hell.”

And then... the main event. The World Famous *BOB*, dressed as “Wonderful Woman,” acted as our mistress of ceremonies. Warm and witty, she threatened to use her lasso of truth on the audience, and at one point harangued an audience member whose cell phone rang: “Is it your mother?” she asked. “Is it your dealer?”

The dancers were a blast, of course. Weirdee Girl started out the night in a spectacular 60s-era Catwoman costume. Spurned by the handsome Adam West Batman, she contemplated (and committed) suicide, dispatching several of her nine lives before deciding he wasn’t worth it. Fem Appeal followed up as “The Incredible Cook”: Imagine the Hulk (her style was more Hulk than She-Hulk) doing the angriest cooking show in the world, ripping her clothes off as she went. This woman was painted green, head to toe. Ninety-five percent of her was green, pals and gals. I once dyed less than a third of me yellow for a Homer Simpson Halloween costume, so I can tell you this: That grief takes commitment. Rounding off the first act was Leyla Rose, visiting from the UK as a wolf girl (maybe Li’l Abner’s Wolf Gal?), revealing a fur bikini and a really funny sight gag.

In the middle of the first act was Ravi the Scorpion Mystic. While everyone else was having a great night of dress-up, this guy had genuine superpowers. Billed as “The Elastic Boy,” he contorted and twisted himself into stomach-churning shapes, and even managed to slip his body through the hoop of a tennis racket. Throughout it all, I was agog. (Later on, we saw him in the subway. He looked like a regular dude with a tennis racket. Secret identity, indeed.)

The second act had even more fun -- beginning with Nasty Canasta’s Poison Ivy routine (to Alice Cooper’s “Posion.”). This was followed by the comic highlight of the show, as Little Brooklyn danced out in a massive foam-rubber Thing costume -- to the Commodores’ “Brick House,” of course. Shedding bricks right and left, she was eventually left with just a rocky orange bikini... and a Kirbyesque surprise underneath. Throughout it all, she kept her big rocky Thing head on. Surreal? Hilarious? Awesome.

Finally, Creamy Stevens showed us the importance of remembering to put your costume on under your clothes before you leave the house, in case a quick change is needed to fight crime. Some kryptonite-induced stripping later made her Superwoman routine an extra treat.

And then, if all that wasn’t enough, just to emphasize the point that the show could have been narrowcasted to the pleasure centers of my brain -- World Famous Bob encouraged us all to get up out of our seats and do the Robot... as the Fresh Prince of Darkness played Styx’s “Mr. Roboto.”

Domo Arigoto, ladies.

Rob

News of the Jaw-Droppingly Awesome

Apparently last night, Bill Clinton was heckled by a robot.

And this robot has been harboring a robot grudge for fifteen years... about Sister Souljah.

Here's an excerpt from Hotline's report:

About seven minutes into the former president’s fourth speech of the day, the man stood on a chair on the press riser and shouted that robots wanted Clinton to say he was sorry for statements he made 15 years ago.

"Bill Clinton, I want you to apologize to Sister Souljah. Robots of the world want you to apologize to Sister Souljah. We want you to apologize,” the man said as one observer gasped "Oh my God.”

A volunteer demanded to know who had let him in and the audience heckled the heckler with boos and screams of "Get out of here!” He then threw dozens of orange, green, hot pink and yellow cards into the air. A woman yanked what appeared to be a microphone out of the man’s hands, and he was escorted out of the room without further incident.

The cards read: "Robots are mad at Bill. MR-IFOBCA stands for Mad Robots In Favor Of Bill Clinton Apologizing. Mr. Ifobca says, "Bill Clinton should be ashamed of himself for slandering a Black woman named Sister Souljah," followed by a website address (www.Mr-Ifobca.org). Posted on the site is a "manifesto" entitled “"Why Did I Bum Rush Bill Clinton?”

Remember, robots are strong. And when they grab you with their metal claws, you can't break free.

UPDATE: At the bottom of the manifesto us this disclaimer: "NOTE: MR. IFOBCA (Mad Robots In Favor Of Bill Clinton Apologizing) IS NOT RELATED TO, OR ENDORSED BY, MR. ROBOTO." Sweeet.

UPDATE 2: There's now video of the robot...and what a profoundly disappointing robo-specimen he is. He looks more like an German bike messenger. Now is the time on Sprokets when we protest!

Rob

Ten Characters in Search of a Psychiatrist

I wasn’t sure what I’d be blogging about next, but I knew I’d have some time to get into it this afternoon, now that all my pages are shipped and I have only to wait for them to come back in proof. And then I discover I’ve been tagged by Ami in the Ten Character meme. Fair enough -- I had a feeling I’d be tagged eventually, and had resisted reading too far into the relevant posts because i wanted to approach my group of characters fresh. But enough dilly-dallying—onward to the (enormous freaking) meme! (Rules are in bold, by the way.)

First, select your ten fictional characters (from any medium) by whichever method you like best. Then answer the questions below.

1. Darryl Zero, The Zero Effect, movie
2. Yossarian, Catch-22, novel
3. Barney Gumble, The Simpsons, TV
4. Kilroy, Styx’s Kilroy Was Here, rock opera
5. Dr. Girlfriend, The Venture Bros., TV
6. Mr. Peanut, Planters mascot, advertising
7. Noah, The Bible
8. Coach Ernie Pantuso, Cheers, TV
9. Amanda Waller, Suicide Squad, comics
10. Samuel L. Jackson, Snakes on a Plane, movie*

*I just looked on IMDB and discovered his character’s name was Neville Flynn. WTF? There’s not a chance I’ll call him that, and not a chance you’d know who I was talking about if I did. (Like more than two of you know who Darryl Zero is—but moving on...)

1. Divide the list up by even and odd. Which group of five would make a better Five Man Band (like a Power Rangers team)? Who would you slot in each position: Leader, Lancer (second-in-command), Big Guy, Smart Guy, The Chick? If you think the team would be improved by swapping one character between the even and odd groups, which ones would you switch?

Team A:
Darryl Zero, Barney, Dr. Girlfriend, Noah, and Amanda Waller.
Team B:
Yossarian, Kilroy, Mr. Peanut, Coach, and Samuel L. Jackson.

For Team A, Waller is the leader, with Darryl Zero as the smart guy. Noah is the lancer, because he knows how to follow orders and he can Get Things Done. Barney is the big guy, and Dr. Girlfriend is the chick. With a pipefitter’s voice.

On Team B, we’ve got Samuel L. Jackson as the leader, because he knows how to get the snakes off the motherfucking plane. Kilroy is the lancer, and Coach is the big guy (well, he’s obviously not the smart guy -- we’ll leave that to Mr. Peanut). Yossarian is the chick.

Do I really have to say that Team A can whup Team B any day of the week?

2. Gender-swap 2, 8 & 10. Which character would have the most change in their story arc? Which the least? Would any of these characters have to have a complete personality change to be believable as the opposite sex?

Three males to females: Yossarian, Coach, and Samuel L. Jackson. Coach’s story changes the most. If anything, Yossarian would have to face even more bureaucracy than before, and SLJ can kick ass in any gender. But a female major-league baseball coach in the 70’s? There’s a story there. Especially since, of all the wonderful things Coach is, she’s not the brightest bulb in the woodshed. (Yes, I know.) So how’d she get the gig?

3. Compare the matchups of 1 & 8 and 5 & 9. (Ignore canon sexual preferences for the moment.) Which couple would be more compatible? Which couple would be more plausible to people from either principal’s home culture?

Darryl Zero & Coach, or Dr. Girlfriend and Amanda Waller? Zero and Coach couldn’t even UNDERSTAND each other, let alone be compatible. Zero is 99% intellect, frustrated by stunted emotion. Coach is exactly the opposite -- all heart, no brains. They both need a trip to Oz.

As for Girlfriend and Waller -- they’d make a fine couple. Girlfriend goes for plotters, and she’d find her dream date in Waller -- she’s actually competent! Waller, on the other hand, likes to be in control of everything, but I bet would like it even more that Dr. G wouldn’t let her be. Yeah, they’d be good together.

4. Your team is 3, 4 & 9. The mission consists of a social challenge, a mental challenge and a physical challenge. Which team member do you assign to each challenge?

Barney, Kilroy and Amanda.

Waller gets the intellectual challenge, and she defeats it with guile and guts. Kilroy can convincingly imitate a robot, so he’s obviously not a social guy. Let’s give him the physical challenge. I’ll give Barney the social challenge, since as a boozehound he’s full of the social lubricant.

5. 7 becomes 1’s boss for a week in some plausible fashion. How’s their working relationship?

Okay, paranoid detective Darryl Zero works for Noah for a week. Zero, his own boss, doesn not take orders well. By week’s end, Noah has either caged him with the rhesus monkeys or has mistaken him for God.

6. 2 finds him/her/itself inserted into 6’s continuity. As far as anyone other than 2 or 6 is concerned, they’ve always been there. What role would 2 be presumed to have had in 6’s story, and could they fit in without going wonky?

Ah, the vast Mr. Peanut mythos. What will Yossarian do? I imagine Yossarian annoys and circumvents mascot after mascot up the food chain, from Mr. Bubble to the Coppertone girl, until he finally comes face to face with the monacled manipulator who has been salting everything in sight.

Seriously, I think my head just exploded.

7. 3 and 5 get three wishes. The catch is that they have to agree on all three wishes before they get the benefits of any of them. What three wishes would they make?

Barney and Dr. Girfriend get three wishes.

Dr. G. lets Barney wish for an endless supply of Duff beer right off the bat, figuring he’ll be out of the picture and she’ll get two unimpeded wishes out of the deal. Problem is, now that she’s got them, she doesn’t know what to wish for. She doesn’t want to be an arch-villain, because she’s seen enough to know that game is for chumps. Just the same, she wouldn’t throw in with Dr. venture and his crew. And while she’s hemming and hawing, Barney wishes for two more endless supplies of beer. Things never work out for Dr. Girlfriend.

8. 1 and 2 are brainwashed by a one-time artifact that works even on people immune to mind control to attack and kill 4. They keep their normal personality, skills and competence level, except any Code vs. Killing has been turned off. Can 4 survive? How?

Darryl Zero and Yossarian team up to kill Kilroy? It takes less than a minute for Zero to find Kilroy in a Roboto unit. (If only he'd stop shouting "I'm Kilroy! Kilroy!") Wherepon, Yossarian brings up a question about how to kill him, leading Zero to a logical impasse. Wherepon Killroy takes the opportunity to escape. Wherepon Zero finds him. And so on, ad infinitum.

9. 6, 7, 9 & 10 must help an orphanage full of small and depressed children have a merry Christmas. Who does what, knowing that at the very least the kids will be expecting a visit from Santa?

Mr. Peanut, Noah, Waller and SLJ, helping an orphanage at Christmas. First off, Jackson burns the place to the ground to torch any snakes in stockings (and roasting Mr. Peanut in the process. I’m getting hungry). Amanda Waller convinces Noah to play Santa, while she checks the orphanages secret files (in a fireproof safe, I guess) for any secret information she can use or withhold at a later date.

10. 3 and 8 are challenged to circumnavigate the Earth in eighty days or less, using only forms of transportation invented before 1900. Can they do it, or will they be fatally distracted by sidequests or their own personality conflicts?

Barney and Coach circumnavigate the Earth? They couldn’t successfully circumnavigate a grapefruit.

***

And that’s it: My long-ass post of the day. I’ll tag Drew or Sharon, Jim the Bastard, Jeri, Greg and KTBuffy. No obligation, guys. Frankly, I’d be surprised if you even got this far.

Rob

Domo Arigato, Sherlock.

In the "A word to the wise shouldn't be necessary at all" category, this week's Entertainment Weekly crowns "Mr. Roboto" as the Number 1 Worst Song to Listen to While Getting It On.

"Heavy Metal Poisoning" was not mentioned. It seems the couplet, "First we'll spank your big behind/Then we'll twist your little mind," is working for someone...

Rob

A Little More Christmas Cheer

First up, a video of Styx's James Young singing Tom Lehrer's "A Christmas Carol." Kathy & I were at this performance at the Bottom Line in NYC -- it was part of Glen Burtnik's annual Xmas Xtravaganza.

Second, I thought I'd pass along the holday wishes from Chris' Invincible Super-Blog (one of the funniest comics blogs in the whole of the interweb) and Marvel's primary spokesman for holiday cheer: Luke Cage.

Rob

Can't.... look... away...

In the comments below, Chris expressed an interest in getting "fair and balanced" with the Kilroy controversy, and letting Dr. Righteous have his due. The video for Styx's "Heavy Metal Poisoning" is a bit more lively than the "Mr. Roboto" video, but no less creepy. As I was seeing Dr. Righteous lurk over that poor kid, I couldn't help but think of Mark Foley.

Which made what came next all the more horrible.

So here it is, another reason to pluck out your eyes and feed them to snakes:



I warned you.

Rob

Arrgh! That Purple Jumpsuit!

Thinking about the 80s, I stumbled across the Batman TV show of music videos: Styx's "Mr. Roboto." What strikes me most about watching it now is how little the other band members are in this. I think as a kid, I thought they were in the Mr. Roboto suits, but those were probably dancers. Or derelicts. Or even genuine racial-stereotypotrons imported from Japan. I think any of those possibilities is more likely than Dennis DeYoung convincing JY and the other guys to carry him around like a group of robot cheerleaders.

A word of warning. You're really only gonna want to watch this once.



Rob

Rockin' the Paradise

I’m really busy, but here are my Top 10 1970s artists. Don’t let Janet say I never told her anything.

1. Styx. My absolute favorite band of the era, cheese and all. They had a hopeful grandiosity that was exactly what I needed in junior high. All hail to the Lords of the Ring!
2. Elton John. Don’t go beyond the seventies, but Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, Tumbleweed Connection and Madman Across the Water are crazy good – and all in different ways.
3. David Bowie. Ashes to ashes, funk to funky. The sleazy, sideways world he created endlessly fascinates.
4. Laura Nyro. Man, she could write, and she’d change the meter of her songs at the drop of a hat. Eli & the Thirteenth Confession was the freshest thing I’d ever heard for a while – and I’d first heard it in 1988.
5. Eagles. Yeah, everyone loves to hate the Eagles, but I wore my Hotel California cassette down to ribbons, and so did you. They called it paradise, I don’t know why.
6. Todd Rundgren. A wizard. A true star. A local guy made mindblowingly good.
7. Hall & Oates. Yeah, two more locals. I’m not talking about “Private Eyes” or anything after, I’m thinking of Abandoned Luncheonette and Bigger Than the Both of Us. That first side of Abandoned Luncheonette still holds up great. (Side 2 is self-indulgent as hell, but there ya go.) Oates should sing more.
8. The Cars. The music of my cousins, and it had me from groove one. Just what I needed.
9. Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers. Another band I first heard from my cousins. Petty’s “Refugee” had me utterly baffled and transfixed.
10. Joni Mitchell. Again, I didn’t hear a lot of her work until later, and I’ve still got a lot to explore. But Court and Spark is still a dart to the heart, and I listened to Blue maybe a million times on one of the longest nights of my life.
11. Steely Dan. This one goes to 11, because nothing says glorious excess like the Dan. So many of their songs are like seeing something pornographic out of the corner of your eye. A mix of temptation and the art of the con.

Rob