Gym Class Air Tents
Jurassic Park Crunch
I know it's taboo to do two dinosaur-related posts in a row, but in honor of the fact that one of my all-time favorite movies is being re-released to theaters in 3D, I decided to do something Jurassic Park related. Speaking of which, does anyone realize that it has been 20 years since the first Jurassic Park came out? My mind!
In any case, my dreams had finally come true in 1996 when they finally, finally! announced that Jurassic Park was finally getting a sequel. I had spent the three years previous in complete and utter dino-mode, showing much adoration for anything JP related, or even just dino-related. I had virtually grown up on Jurassic Park games, books, school supplies, bed sheets, toys... you name it, and waited day and night in anticipation for a sequel.
By the time good old "The Lost World: Jurassic Park" came out, I had grown a few more braincells and could appreciate it in a different way. The trailers really amped up all anticipation with scenes of giant steggies crossing a river and hunters bagging dinosaurs down in jeeps, and even the title "Lost World" made it seem like it was going to be even more epic than the first. And in many ways it was. Whereas I remember being 6 and utterly enjoying the first Jurassic Park (not even being scared), I was about 10 when The Lost World came out, and I was on the edge of my seat. Up until then, it was probably the most intense thrill ride of a movie I had ever been on. Even then I knew the premise was dumb and how incredibly ludicrous the ending was, but hey, at least the anticipation got me and my brother begging for its cereal.
That's right, The Lost World had its own cereal, called Jurassic Park Crunch, from General Mills, and I desperately think they should bring it back, whether or not they ever decide to release Jurassic Park 4 from the top secret military vaults (or wherever they're hiding it). It was one of those things that I only barely remembered until I searched for it. The stuff actually did exist and indeed wasn't just some fantastic dream I had once or something. I remember there being marshmallow dinosaur eggs that dissolved in the milk and "hatched" dinosaur shapes or something like that. Unfortunately I didn't know it was a limited-time thing at the time, or else I probably would've bought the store out of it!
The box also reveals that "If you hear this box roar, you could win a Lost World Adventure!" I had totally forgotten about that, but it's probably because ours didn't. I guess it meant you'd get to cut in line at the Universal Studios Jurassic Park ride or something. In any case, they should definitely bring this back, even if it's just for the Jurassic Park 3D re-release. The boxes alone are going for 15 bucks on ebay!
If the Dinosaurs Came Back
Kids aren't as stupid as they look, or at least I wasn't. Eh.. okay, maybe not us boys, but girls at least are not as stupid as they look. Either way, I never let the fact that if the dinosaurs actually came back we'd all be screwed undermine the enjoyment I took from If the Dinosaurs Came Back by Bernard Most, a book I read upwards of a thousand times in those early years. I don't ever remember thinking that if the dinosaurs came back, they'd be plowing our fields, transporting us over traffic, giving us water rides at the beach, or putting out fires in tall buildings, but hey... whether they're helping us or eating us... wouldn't it be so cool?
And I certainly disputed the idea that T-Rexes would be more interested in chomping down trees rather than chomping down lumberjacks. I still think it's plausible they could be used to scare away robbers though, "scare" being an understatement. But none of that mattered to me much, for all the reasons that make kids dumb: there were funny pictures.
But what was this book about? It was about a little boy who dares to dream, as most of us do. To dream that if the dinosaurs came back, they would be our friends and let us use their long necks as bridges and their teeth as lawn mowers. In other words, he dared to be pretty dumb about dinosaurs. But why did I enjoy this book? There were funny illustrations of dinosaurs, with all the little details that you only notice when you can't really read the words, like how the lumberjack is holing up a giant log with one hand, or how the swimmer is struggling to get out of the way of the giant dinosaur at the beach, or how one of the skiers looks like he's about to fly right off the dinosaur's snow-covered back! Whoa!
Funny illustrations were all I needed. Even funnier were my own illustrations, where I too dared to dream, about the dinosaurs terrorizing humanity and giving us a lot of dino-fertilizer (like in Jurassic Park). I was either a brilliant satirist, or really was as dumb as I looked. But maybe that was the point. This book made kids think hypothetically at a time when all we were thinking was "dinosaurs!"
Killing a Tamagotchi
The girls used to play with them in school and would often conveniently leave them behind at their desks for mischievous dorks like myself with nothing else better to do but unleash a little mayhem for shits. Something about sabotaging a girl's tamogotchi always felt like sweet payback for something, maybe just for outsmarting us all the time perhaps. Sure, we had the "Talk Boy" and the "Game Boy"... so how dare girls play with their own techno-toys! I mean, think of it as us just picking on something our own mental size! For the record though, I don't think I personally was brave enough, or mean enough, to do the dirty and (moderately) hilarious deed myself, but I do remember at least instigating it, consenting to it, and perhaps aiding and abetting the real perps (my best friend Nick), and getting bitched out for it. Either way I plead the fifth. In my defense, I knew it would be totally worth it.
Now the easiest way to kill a Tamagotchi was to press that button on the back (which would "reset it") and leave it behind for the owner to figure it out a half hour later when the thing wasn't crying for even just thirty sustained seconds. I think we were doing the school a favor, actually, taking these things out. The other way was usually more time exhaustive, but a lot more fun, and involved feeding it like a nervous eater on a roller coaster. Keep pressing feed until it's wallowing in its own waste (and believe me, these guys really are little machines!). It won't take long after that. Then you put it back on the desk or in her drawer where she left it, and wait. Oh, the wait was palpable! And then she doesn't notice a thing until... "Wait a minute, my Tamagotchi is dead!!"
The pure enjoyment of "Hey! You killed my Tamagotchi!" was so brief, but then the chase was on. Hell hath no fury like a Tamagotchi owner scorned, and I don't think I have to tell you whose life they considered more valuable. They weren't just out for blood. Heck, my old friend Nick (wherever he is) probably still can't have kids because of it! (Sorry Nick!) But you know, still worth it. It's ironic too, seeing as the typical Tamagotchi died at least a couple times a day anyways... heck, you could accidentally kill it. Just sit on it for a long time. It's got to suffocate eventually!
These days, there's probably an app for it.
Time to Make the Donuts...
Yes, there's reassuring certainty in driving by the "Dunkies" every day, which is probably why this old nostalgia bomb I'm about to drop on you was so right in its time. This will harken you back to a time when you thought about Dunkin' Donuts for their, well, donuts, rather than for their cheap (and therefore better) coffee. You may remember that throughout the 80s and most of the 90s, DDs hired a live-action Mario-looking guy to be their mascot. He was an enthusiastic donut maker who would diligently rise out of bed early in the morning every day with the groggy existential crisis of his endless work routine, summarizing it with his monotone catchphrase "Time to make the donuts ..." before dutifully donning the apron and happy face to offer up "service with a smile" before retreating back to his gloom for another day. This man's name was Fred.
So here's the reason why these Fred the Baker ads ran for so many years: we are Fred, and he is us. Most of us have to get out bed in the morning, slap ourselves in the face in the mirror, jump in the car, and go toil out there in the world to make a living every day. You see? We all got donuts to make. But it's not all gloom, because sometimes we're also the people putting in the order for the box of twelves, trying to play a good game of mix-and-match for optimum variety... cream-filled, jelly-filled, chocolate covered...etc, chased down with one of those big boxes of Munchkins. And so we know that in some odd way it's worth it if we find any way we can to enjoy ourselves while we're doing the slog, just like Fred. Or we don't, and we quit and go work at the BK ball pit.
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| Remember this box art? |
My favorite has always been Bahston Cream. Pahk the cah.
Awesome Children of the 90s Ad
Children of the 90s, you got to watch this ad for Internet Explorer, because it seems like they are very well aware that we've all moved on to bigger and better things and just want to remind us that IE is still around. Please bear with some shameless commercialization knowing that I'm not making a dime from this, but am posting it here because of how awesome this ad is! You could do a "90s Kid bingo" with this ad. And the message is true, the internet as we know it is technically also a 90s invention, like many of us (unless you're like me and were actually born in the 80s...like the internet)...
"We met in the 90s. We are members of generation Y, as in yin-yang, as in yo-yo. Life moved a little slower. Disks were square. Desktop folders had personality. Extra storage space was just a zipper away. There was only one social network, but most of your friends died of dysentery. The only thing buzzing in your pocket was a pet, until that died too. But at least a troll was still a friend. Lunch was puzzle, not a picture. You were pumping jams, water, shoes. You didn't have to worry about a newsfeed full of farm animals. You were busy feeding wild animals. A haircut didn't cost 60 dollars. It cost 4 minutes. You really had nothing to lose. Unless of course, you were playing for keeps! The future was bright. You grew up, so did we."
End the Overalls
For some reason parents in the 80's and 90's saw it necessary to lock their children into their pants. I don't know if this was supposed to be some kind of Puritanical chastity device or a necessary measure to combat pedos in the times of the Satanic daycares (never understood the panic by the way... all I got at my Satanic daycare was a "time out" for pulling my pants down...), but like all well-intentioned 80s-90s ploys to potentially protect us from the big bad world, it backfired royally, and once again it was only us kids who suffered. I don't know if that's the reason these particular type of pants became fashionable, but I wouldn't doubt it.In any case, these things called "overalls" were somewhat fashionable at the time, especially for girls, but where they at least didn't crowd their style (at least for tomboys), the whole "farmer John" hillbilly look was not only trauma-inducing for anyone who wasn't a girl, but was also potentially hazardous. Once again, I speak from personal experience. I mean, as weird as it sounds, it's an immutable truth... sometimes in life you just need to be able to take your pants off, or at least be able to get at your merchandise, and that's true for everyone of every time period. These pants in question made it damn near impossible to do just that, which is why they were evil. Either that or I was an idiot kid.
I happen to remember one panic-inducing bathroom experience at school when I was little, being unable to unhook those metal loops (this was when I was more youngish, you see). I just could not unloop them no matter how long I tried, and I wasn't going to go ask someone to "do it for me" because that's embarrassing, ridiculous, and probably could've landed that person in jail. And no, there was no zipper or anything else, which in my opinion just makes any piece of clothing a torture device. So it was either stay locked in and suffer, of somehow get out of the contraption and do what more and more ferociously needed to be done! Well, it wasn't much of a choice either way. One way or another, that baby was being born! But the seconds turned into minutes. I was standing there in the bathroom stall at school desperately tugging on the loops, furiously yanking at the clips, stomping my feet, holding back the internal surge with all my might and strength, doubling over on the wall, clenched up, sweating, every muscle straining, holding that beast back even as it was already stepping out bit by bit... just desperately NEEDING that sweet sweet release. That big put-off long-awaited ka-BOOM!... but then... but then!!
Actually I don't remember how I solved the problem, or if I even did... But one thing is for sure... one way or another... it came out... and it was most likely both horrendous and yet utterly GLORIOUS. I'm sure angels with harps descended on each side of me singing "Hallelujah." Either way, perhaps I blocked it out for my own good. It was fucking traumatic, that's all I know. Everyone talks about how great childhood was in the 80s and 90s simply because they've been able to block out things like this! This is why I implore people today to never put anyone over (or under) the age of five into these things. Maybe these were cool for guys back in the 30s, but those days done.
Girls actually do look pretty good in overalls, I got to admit, especially when it's all they got on... but what do I know about "clothing?" ;)
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