The Good Ol' Days...of Parental Abandonment

And now an excerpt from my mom's holiday email:

Bet you didn't know I bought and then returned and got something else for you. Maybe even three times. Because I thought THAT thing would be the best thing. Once I even drove over to [a store] from [our duplex in a completely different area] to get in on the best price and while they still had one (whatever it was). Did I say it was 12:00 at night? This was the year stores started to be open 24 hours.  Fortunately, you were still sleeping when I got home.

Ahh, the good ol' days of the 1980s.  Sometimes I'm amazed my siblings and I survived at all.  But she was right; I did not know that.

They Say You Can't Go Home Again

I say why would you want to?

I often have recurring dreams of the house and neighborhood in which I grew up.  In the dreams, I'm usually coming back to the house or subdivision after having been away for quite some time (just like in real life).  But in the dreams, the roads are longer and more desolate.  The house is quite a bit bigger, similar to how my little eight-year-old self might have seen it.  It's almost always night, and sometimes there are large dogs involved.

It doesn't take a Freudian scholar to analyze the messages my subconscious is sending to me.  My brain replays the images of my youth, distorting them to show the fear and sometimes abject terror I felt growing up.  The anxiety and anger is there, too; I often wake up feeling irrationally angry.  In the dream I may have been screaming in anger and throwing punches, things I was never able to do when I lived at #6 Tompkins Drive.  Of course, even in the dreams the punches are unsatisfying; the anger feels impotent.

I feel I should insert a disclaimer here:  there are people who fared far worse than I growing up.  Compared to them, I'm sure my childhood looks like middle-class paradise.

I haven't had these dreams in quite some time -- crap, I'm even getting teary-eyed just writing about them -- but lately I've been haunted by the fact that I did go back one time and snap some photographs of my childhood home.  My father's family has long since left #6.  There were no people to visit, just blank places to stare at.  The fact that I did go back and take photographs is disturbing to my mind because I can't quite remember which memories are real (from my childhood), real (from the return trip), or just recollections of my vivid (and disturbing) dreams.  Perhaps seeing the photographs will help me clear up the confusion.

I had planned, I think, on posting the photos on my old blog (really old, like that site doesn't even exist anymore), but just never got around to it -- which translates into, "It's too heavy to deal with, so I'll put it off."  So I decided to look back at those pictures, post them here with perhaps some small descriptions attached, and maybe lay to rest a few ghosts, though certainly not all.

Imagine my surprise when, just now as writing this (and multitasking, as usual), I brought out the external hard drive, looked through my files from that Thanksgiving road trip, and found one.
Just one photograph of the house in question.  None of the roads leading up to it, the signs of the subdivision, not even the fence or the yard of the house.  Just one lone picture of an innocuous ranch-style house.

I don't know whether to cry or vomit or both.  I was actually looking forward to a small bit of catharsis by seeing and attempting to describe things that hold so much negativity for me.  I was really looking forward to clearing up in my brain what was real and what was false.  But now I can't.  It's just the same Swiss cheese muddle it was before.

I think the fact that I took only one picture is somewhat telling.  I took over seventy pictures on that road trip -- of me, of my dog, of the apartment building I grew up in, even a couple of my old high school.  But the house in which I spent seven years of hell?  Just one plain photograph.

Still I suppose I can tell you about that one photograph:

The house is now a light beige color (as shown).  When we moved in, it was a delightful light peach color.  Not a pink house, but my little girl heart thought it was close enough.  Within a few weeks, my stepmother demanded that it be repainted.  Something about light-colored houses getting too hot; I don't really know.  So they picked out a new color, and sometimes I'd get to help paint.  The new color?  A dark, I'm-not-getting-enough-water-so-my-stool-is-really-hard brown.  The house looked like a giant glob of mud.

See the window on the far left?  That window was home to one of my greatest achievements as a former food-hoarder.  I used to hoard food for years, sticking snacks and crackers and cookies in various drawers and coat pockets.  My dad and stepmother could never quite figure out why my bedroom had a near-constant infestation of ants.  I used to spend hours watching the ants eat the poison they put out, but that's another story.  One winter I managed to sneak a frozen fudge bar (or fudgesicle, if you will) all the way from the kitchen freezer down the hall to my bedroom on the corner of the house there.  When my stepmother came in to inspect my room (as she did after every time that I had to clean it), she looked in, judging as usual.  My heart pounded in my chest because the fudgesicle was stored in that window between glass and the storm window on the outside (so it would stay cold, of course).  The thick wooden window frame (maybe two inches wide all the way around) kept my fudgesicle hidden from view.  When she left, I enjoyed my tasty frozen victory and said a silent "fuck you."

And that's all she wrote:  that is where this particular post, originally started sometime in 2013, ends.  And I think that's where I'll leave it for now.  For more on houses, monsters, and childhood terrors, see "The Long Road Home."

Throwback Thursday: Ewoks!

That's right!  Today we're celebrating Ewoks.  I have fond memories of Ewoks as Return of the Jedi was the only Star Wars movie I saw originally in the theater.  And the first person who says that Ewoks are just as bad as Jar-Jar Binks gets a swift kick in the shin.

There were a handful of named Ewoks in the film, with Warwick Davis playing the most famous, Wicket.  From there, of course, spawned all kinds of merchandise.  When attempting to research this blog post, I made several horrific fascinating discoveries:

1. There is an entire Star Wars wiki.  That in and of itself is not the important point; the fact that they insist on calling it "The Wookieepedia" is.
2. There was a cartoon called Star Wars:  Ewoks, which I don't remember at all.  It ran for only two seasons (1985-86).  This leads to the third horrifying point:
3. The Ewok I was searching for in particular has her own bio (courtesy of The Wookieepedia, of course), back story, and even some quotes on the page!

Damn.  All of that information is new to me.  I was just searching for cute Ewok  pictures!  Well, that's not true.  I was searching for specific product information on the Ewok that I used to own:

(Photo courtesy of BriansToys.com)

Isn't she adorable?  Her name is Kneesaa, and apparently she's not in Return of the Jedi at all!  At least, not according to the cast list on IMDb.com. Nope, according to Wikipedia (source of all knowledge) she's a product of the aforementioned two-season cartoon.  Not only that, but she has a very tragic back story.  While she is a princess, royalty comes at a price:

"Her mother was killed by a Hanadak while protecting Kneesaa and her lost sister Asha, who was dragged downstream while trying to escape" (Wikipedia contributors).

What the hell??  I thought this was a children's cartoon?!

One year for Christmas I received Post-Traumatic Stress Care Bear Princess Kneesaa while my brother got the Wicket plush.

 Here is wee Leonard receiving the traditional Ewok gift:

  Later, we went to therapy together.

These days, Princess Kneesaa, even "loose" (that means "without packaging," you perverts!), runs upward of $45.  Just glancing on Google showed some even as high as $85.  I wonder where my Kneesaa is?  Oh yeah, she's was probably thrown out when my step-mother got rid of all of my things because she's a hateful bitch.  My step-mother, not Kneesaa.  I would never say such things about an Ewok!

You now have your choice of two videos.  You can either watch "Yub Nub," the Ewok celebration at the end of Star Wars:  Episode VI -- Return of the Jedi (UNremastered, thankyouverymuch!):

Or the incredibly repetitive opening theme song to the Ewoks cartoon:



Pick your poison.

Moral of the Story: Don't Ride Roller Coasters

In 1983, TSR and Marvel Productions started a cartoon called Dungeons & Dragons, based on the role-playing tabletop game.  Yes, long before other game-to-movie abominations like Battleship hit the screens, TSR and Marvel already thought it was a good idea to turn games into TV shows.  As the show was canceled after twenty-seven episodes, leaving the finale (which would have wrapped everything up) un-produced, I'm going to say no, it's not a good idea.  And sorry, hard-core RPG fans, there are no dice, characters sheets, or hit points in this show.

A group of kids, aged 7-15, go on a "Dungeons & Dragons ride" at an amusement park.  Where are their chaperones?  Who lets kids just run amok at an amusement park??  D&D the cartoon may actually be a commentary on laissez-faire parenting.

As you can see from the opening credits, this roller coaster of doom transports the children into a scary, magical land, complete with unicorns who jump into your arms.

In each episode, the kids would have a "quest" thrown at them, and at some point they would have to choose between helping other denizens of this realm or going home to the real world.  Invariably, the good-hearted children would help the others, sacrificing their chances to return home.

I remember thinking these children were idiots when I watched it.  In one episode a character could only make one wish:  go home (alone) or save his companions.  I thought, "You moron.  Simply say 'I wish to go home with my friends'!"  (Even at this tender age, Leonard was all about semantics.)

As mentioned earlier, there are only twenty-seven episodes.  The series was canceled in 1985, leaving the finale episode unfinished, although word on the street is that you can find the script floating around on the Interwebs.

The moral of this story, of course, is don't ride roller coasters.  I didn't ride roller coasters until I was at least fifteen or so; I'm pretty sure this show is what instilled the fear in my young mind.

Here's the first part of Season 1 Episode 1 "The Night of No Tomorrow."  Enjoy all the 1980s animated feathered hair.

Satan Lives in the Electrontrics

Today's Throwback Thursday is dedicated to two very different 1980s electronic devices.  First up, the Speak & Spell:

The Speak & Spell debuted in 1978 from Texas Instruments, they of the calculator fame.  We had the 1986 model featured here.  The Speak & Spell had a variety of spelling-type games, the original being "Say It," where the child would have to type the word after hearing it "spoken" by the machine. 



Here's the thing about the Speak & Spell:  if the disembodied computer-generated, inflection-less voice wasn't bad enough, when the batteries started to die, the whole thing sound like Satan was living in your spelling machine.

But that was only when the batteries were running out.  Other than that, it was a perfectly friendly, untraumatic children's toy.

Nope, still creepy.  Plus, they used it in E.T.!  That movie freaked me out as a kid.  Speaking of things that freaked us out as children,...

Meet Satan, err, Teddy Ruxpin.  He debuted in September of 1985 to the horror delight of children everywhere.  You inserted a tape (yes, a cassette tape) into his back, and he would "read" the story (about himself, the narcissistic bastard) and talk to you.  His mouth would move; his eyes would blink; his head would rotate 360°.

My older brother and sister and I have one rich relative, a great-aunt in LaJolla, California.  She usually sent us for Christmas the popular, expensive, "must have" toy that year.  So in 1985, Teddy Ruxpin arrived...

...and freaked our shit out.  The mechanical parts that caused him to move his eyes and mouth, etc. made almost as much noise as Teddy's speaking "voice," so it was hard to hear.  More than that, he was just weird.  His eyes are slightly crossed and always focused on something just beyond you, like he's having a seance whilst speaking, channeling other Satanic electronics.

Oh sure, the stories were about friendship and love, and he even had a cartoon for a while.  But then there's this:

 Teddy Ruxpin:  the stuff of which nightmares are made.

Throwback Thursdays: Hugga Bunch

Aren't they adorable?  Just wait, they'll get creepy in a moment.  (And if you already think they look creepy, they're going to get creepier).  The Hugga Bunch dolls were a franchise started in 1985 by Kenner and Hallmark Cards.  Each fuzzy, candy-colored doll came with a smaller doll, called a "huglet," which they would, well, hug.  The dolls had velcro on their hands (hey, it was the 80s; velcro was still a big deal) so they could "hug" the smaller doll or even each other, I guess.

Please note the shiny material on the dolls' dresses.  The velcro could catch on this fabric and then leave nasty snag marks when you ripped it away (as I often did).  My mother noticed this imperfection and made an angry phone call to the manufacturer.  Soon I had a second set of Hugga Bunch dolls.  You didn't think I came by my habit of Strongly Worded Letters all by myself, did you?

Because Hallmark Cards was involved, they made a Hallmark family "made for TV" movie of the Hugga Bunch called The Hugga Bunch.  Apparently the title/marketing department had no cash to come up with a better name as the entire movie was produced for $1.4 million, "making it the most expensive TV special ever produced at that time."  Presumably most of the money was spent on "special effects," as it earned one Primetime Emmy for "Outstanding Visual Effects."

Throwback Thursday: The Chipmunks (and Chipettes!)

I loved this show in the 1980s!  And let's not forget The Chipettes! 

The show itself (Alvin & the Chipmunks) started running in 1983 and lasted for eight (8!) seasons until 1991.  The cast included Ms. Dody Goodman (of Grease fame) as Miss Miller, the Chipettes' chaperone.  I have her autograph, thankyouverymuch.  It may interest you to know that:

• The same man voiced Alvin, Simon, and Dave Seville
• The same woman voiced Theodore, Brittany, Jeanette, and Eleanor
• Alvin, Simon, and Theodore's last name is listed as Seville, same as Dave, though they don't call him "Dad."  They call him "Dave."
• The Chipettes all have the last name as "Miller," but they don't call Miss Miller "mom."  They (and the boys) call her "Miss Miller."
• I used to know the entire The Chipmunk Adventure movie (1987) by heart.

More importantly, I realized that without these little rascals I probably wouldn't know "Wooly Bully" (Sam the Sham and the Pharoahs, 1965), "Sharp Dressed Man" (ZZ Top, 1983) --  not to mention, of course, the Chipmunk classics "Witch Doctor" and "The Chipmunk Song (Christmas Don't Be Late)."  Growing up we had an album (yes, an actual record) of The Chipmunks singing their Christmas songs; I now have it all on iTunes and listen to it every Christmas.

I wonder if the placement of these songs in their respective episodes/movies (at the 1980s stuff) will make more sense now that I know the songs.  Hmmm,....I may have to rewatch some cartoons!

And yes, I watched both Alvin & the Chipmunks (2007) and Alvin & the Chipmunks:  The Squeakquel (2009). when they came out (on DVD).  I even own the 2007 soundtrack (hey, I like both the updated and original versions of the songs!).  Of those two movies, these two videos make me giggle no matter what:

"Rinse Cycle"




And this, because it's adorable and really kind of wrong if you think about it (though it must be watched directly through YouTube).