Here are some cartoons from the 1980's that stand out to me.
Scooby Doo. I don't know why it always took Fred, Scooby, and co. 30 minutes to figure out that the spooky swamp creature or scary ghost was always a regular guy dressed up in a costume. That said, I was glued to the T.V. every episode.
The Road Runner. There's just something about watching Wily E. Coyote fall off a cliff that never gets old. Throw in an anvil and some ACME T-N-T, and you've got the makings of a fine cartoon.
Transformers. It still brings tears to my eyes when Optimus Prime, in the heat of the moment, called his Autobot army to battle with the cry, "AUTOBOTS, ROLL!"
GI Joe. The Ninja guy was awesome. So were the evil twin brothers, Tomax and Xamot. But my favorite was Gung-Ho. Nobody screwed with Gung-Ho.
Other than these, the only other 80's cartoons I remember right now are Star Blazers, Mask, and GoBots. Star Blazers was on at like 6:00 a.m., which meant I was busy drooling on my pillow. Gobots was just a lame ripoff of Transformers. And to be totally honest, Mask looked so pathetic that I never watched it to see what it was about.
Got a favorite 80's cartoon? Post it here!
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
Tsunami Warning
We were totally dialed into our campsite on the Oregon coast. The fire was blazing. The tent trailer (rental) was all set up and looking spiffy. And the wife and kids and I had just busted out a bag of marshmallows when I got a call on my cell phone. It was my sister in law.
"Hey, you guys are on the Oregon Coast, right?"
"Yeah," I said, feeling pretty smug about the whole scene, like Mr. Hot-Shot, Eagle-Scout-Wannabe camping dad.
"I'm watching the news and there was an earthquake off the coast of California. There's a tsunami warning for the Oregon coast."
My initial reaction to this type of news is always a bit curious. On the inside I play it cool, but on the outside I talk a lot. I seriously can't shut up. So I told my wife what was going on and she immediately started putting the kids' coats on. I went looking for a ranger, and sure enough, she had already begun the process of evacuating the camp. After talking her ear off, I zoomed back to the site and loaded the kids in the van.
As we headed for high ground, I couldn't keep from wondering if my insurance covered tsunami damage, as I fully expected to return to find the tent trailer lying upside down, covered in seaweed like some scene from The Perfect Storm. I also worried momentarily about the campfire we'd left going, but figured that large a wave would probably pretty much take care of it.
So we sat up on the hill for a half hour or so, listening to the radio. When we got word that the warning was cancelled, we headed back down to our campsite and went to bed, happy to be alive, but kind of bummed that our fire had fizzled out.
Gotta love a tsunami warning.
"Hey, you guys are on the Oregon Coast, right?"
"Yeah," I said, feeling pretty smug about the whole scene, like Mr. Hot-Shot, Eagle-Scout-Wannabe camping dad.
"I'm watching the news and there was an earthquake off the coast of California. There's a tsunami warning for the Oregon coast."
My initial reaction to this type of news is always a bit curious. On the inside I play it cool, but on the outside I talk a lot. I seriously can't shut up. So I told my wife what was going on and she immediately started putting the kids' coats on. I went looking for a ranger, and sure enough, she had already begun the process of evacuating the camp. After talking her ear off, I zoomed back to the site and loaded the kids in the van.
As we headed for high ground, I couldn't keep from wondering if my insurance covered tsunami damage, as I fully expected to return to find the tent trailer lying upside down, covered in seaweed like some scene from The Perfect Storm. I also worried momentarily about the campfire we'd left going, but figured that large a wave would probably pretty much take care of it.
So we sat up on the hill for a half hour or so, listening to the radio. When we got word that the warning was cancelled, we headed back down to our campsite and went to bed, happy to be alive, but kind of bummed that our fire had fizzled out.
Gotta love a tsunami warning.
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
Top 5 All Time Movies
Here are my top 5 movies in no particular order.
The Shawshank Redemption. I like movies that matter, and this movie matters. It makes me ask the question: Will I settle for a predictable, comfortable, caged-up life, or will I be driven by the hope that something greater lies ahead? Add the cool cinematography, a killer performance by Morgan Freeman, and a brilliantly written script, and you've got a top 5 movie.
Fletch. With respect to Eddie Murphy, Steve Martin, John Belushi, Bill Murray, Adam Sandler, Will Farrell, Chris Rock, Chris Farley, Martin Short, and John Candy, nobodody was funnier in his prime than Chevy Chase. The only tricky part here is picking Fletch over Christmas Vacation. Fletch gets the nod for its year-round appeal.
The Usual Suspects. Every guy needs a solid guy movie on his list, and this one is by far my favorite. Kevin Spacey is totally convincing. The supporting cast is amazing. The story is completely unpredictable. And there were times when I laughed my head off.
Forrest Gump. With an intellect rivaled only by garden tools, Gump isn't the smartest guy of all time. But has any Hollywood character taught us more valuable lessons than Forrest? He is loyal, determined, and brave. There's not a phony bone in his body. He's the epitome of a friend who loves at all times. He keeps his promises. He's a shining example of compassion that leads to action. And to top it off, the guy can grow a sweet beard.
The Endless Summer. Could there possibly be anything more cool than a couple guys chasing the sun, warm beaches, and perfect waves around the globe in the 1960's? I think not.
The Shawshank Redemption. I like movies that matter, and this movie matters. It makes me ask the question: Will I settle for a predictable, comfortable, caged-up life, or will I be driven by the hope that something greater lies ahead? Add the cool cinematography, a killer performance by Morgan Freeman, and a brilliantly written script, and you've got a top 5 movie.
Fletch. With respect to Eddie Murphy, Steve Martin, John Belushi, Bill Murray, Adam Sandler, Will Farrell, Chris Rock, Chris Farley, Martin Short, and John Candy, nobodody was funnier in his prime than Chevy Chase. The only tricky part here is picking Fletch over Christmas Vacation. Fletch gets the nod for its year-round appeal.
The Usual Suspects. Every guy needs a solid guy movie on his list, and this one is by far my favorite. Kevin Spacey is totally convincing. The supporting cast is amazing. The story is completely unpredictable. And there were times when I laughed my head off.
Forrest Gump. With an intellect rivaled only by garden tools, Gump isn't the smartest guy of all time. But has any Hollywood character taught us more valuable lessons than Forrest? He is loyal, determined, and brave. There's not a phony bone in his body. He's the epitome of a friend who loves at all times. He keeps his promises. He's a shining example of compassion that leads to action. And to top it off, the guy can grow a sweet beard.
The Endless Summer. Could there possibly be anything more cool than a couple guys chasing the sun, warm beaches, and perfect waves around the globe in the 1960's? I think not.
Thursday, February 17, 2005
A Warning for Future Dads
All dirty diapers are not created equal.
I didn't know this until I had kids. Then I quickly learned that there are at least 4 types of poopy pants. I've classified them according to "threat levels."
Threat level green - This is the kind of mess every dad out there prays for when he catches that first whiff of baby poop as Junior scuttles by. This is your run of the mill, solid turd that requires very little clean up--one or two baby wipes tops.
Threat level yellow - These steamers are a bit deceptive. They appear to have the same characteristics as their threat level green relatives, but upon closer inspection one discovers these bad boys are gooooeeeeeeyyyyyyy. You're looking at six to eight baby wipes to tackle the job. (These occasionally give themselves away by their pungent smell.)
Threat level orange - One word: diarrhea. Think runny. Watery. And the real problem here isn't so much the smell or the clean up, but the fact that it's easy to get on your hands. GROSS!
Threat level red - Explosive. Messy. Ends up in places you never thought possible. How did the kid wind up with poop...on her elbow??? When one of these stink volcanoes erupts, lay the kid on a towel (important), draw a bath, get 10-15 wipes ready to roll, and call for help. And by the way, your baby will need a new outfit. You might too.
So there you have it. Good luck Dad.
I didn't know this until I had kids. Then I quickly learned that there are at least 4 types of poopy pants. I've classified them according to "threat levels."
Threat level green - This is the kind of mess every dad out there prays for when he catches that first whiff of baby poop as Junior scuttles by. This is your run of the mill, solid turd that requires very little clean up--one or two baby wipes tops.
Threat level yellow - These steamers are a bit deceptive. They appear to have the same characteristics as their threat level green relatives, but upon closer inspection one discovers these bad boys are gooooeeeeeeyyyyyyy. You're looking at six to eight baby wipes to tackle the job. (These occasionally give themselves away by their pungent smell.)
Threat level orange - One word: diarrhea. Think runny. Watery. And the real problem here isn't so much the smell or the clean up, but the fact that it's easy to get on your hands. GROSS!
Threat level red - Explosive. Messy. Ends up in places you never thought possible. How did the kid wind up with poop...on her elbow??? When one of these stink volcanoes erupts, lay the kid on a towel (important), draw a bath, get 10-15 wipes ready to roll, and call for help. And by the way, your baby will need a new outfit. You might too.
So there you have it. Good luck Dad.
Sunday, January 23, 2005
Is this love?
I'm the father of three little kids, which makes being awakened in the middle of the night a fairly routine experience. There are a bunch of reasons this happens, including pee patrol (taking those "in training" to use the toilet), comforting a child who sees monkeys dancing by the window, administering cough syrup to the ill, and of course, changing a steamy, stinky diaper.
And sometimes it's really awful when duty calls. I could be enjoying the most resful, peaceful, dream-crazy-dreams-sleep that I've had in weeks only to be awakened by a crying toddler who peed his bed. I sit up on the edge of my bed, rest broken, dream lost forever, and think to myself, "Why?"
I guess it's human nature, but I'm struck by the reality that it's really easy to love my children when they're cute and smiley and healthy and cuddly. But it takes some work to love them when they tear pages out of my favorite book or test their new markers on the walls or wake up crying in the middle of the night because the pacifier is out of reach (the same pacifier they threw out of bed in the first place).
Love always has been, and always will be, a choice. It goes beyond emotion, beyond the call of duty, beyond convenience. And it takes some work. But when I put myself on the receiving end of such unconditional love, I'm reminded that loving my kids when they puke all over the bed sheets at 3:00 a.m. is more than what is needed. Ultimately, it's what matters.
And sometimes it's really awful when duty calls. I could be enjoying the most resful, peaceful, dream-crazy-dreams-sleep that I've had in weeks only to be awakened by a crying toddler who peed his bed. I sit up on the edge of my bed, rest broken, dream lost forever, and think to myself, "Why?"
I guess it's human nature, but I'm struck by the reality that it's really easy to love my children when they're cute and smiley and healthy and cuddly. But it takes some work to love them when they tear pages out of my favorite book or test their new markers on the walls or wake up crying in the middle of the night because the pacifier is out of reach (the same pacifier they threw out of bed in the first place).
Love always has been, and always will be, a choice. It goes beyond emotion, beyond the call of duty, beyond convenience. And it takes some work. But when I put myself on the receiving end of such unconditional love, I'm reminded that loving my kids when they puke all over the bed sheets at 3:00 a.m. is more than what is needed. Ultimately, it's what matters.
Thursday, January 06, 2005
Portland Drivers, Take 1
Look. I think road rage is a sin. A guy going ape-crazy, waving his arms and screaming obscenities at his windshield because a little old lady in front of him is going 32 in a 35 is a dark, messed up thing. It doesn't make anybody any better, especially the angry fella. He's a quadruple bypass waiting to happen.
That said, I get it. I live in a city whose drivers drive with no sense of purpose. Just this morning, I got stuck behind a guy who I figure decided to go for a drive with the sole intent of slowing down to let people in. I could just imagine him, sitting at his breakfast table, drinking coffee and reading his newspaper, when he's struck with an epiphany. "I know what I'll do today!" he thinks out loud. "I'll go for a drive and make a lot of stops so people can get in. I'll do it at intersections, freeway on-ramps, and driveways. This'll be great!"
So there I sat, completely stopped behind him on a busy street, while he allowed the minivan in front of him to pull to the curb, drop off a passenger, and pull back out into the street as he smiled and waved.
I managed to keep my cool, but was feeling pretty annoyed by the whole situation. I gently tapped my horn (O.K., maybe it was a 5 second honk), and the minivan pulled back onto the street only to resume at a speed 5 miles per hour under the legal limit.
Welcome to Portland.
That said, I get it. I live in a city whose drivers drive with no sense of purpose. Just this morning, I got stuck behind a guy who I figure decided to go for a drive with the sole intent of slowing down to let people in. I could just imagine him, sitting at his breakfast table, drinking coffee and reading his newspaper, when he's struck with an epiphany. "I know what I'll do today!" he thinks out loud. "I'll go for a drive and make a lot of stops so people can get in. I'll do it at intersections, freeway on-ramps, and driveways. This'll be great!"
So there I sat, completely stopped behind him on a busy street, while he allowed the minivan in front of him to pull to the curb, drop off a passenger, and pull back out into the street as he smiled and waved.
I managed to keep my cool, but was feeling pretty annoyed by the whole situation. I gently tapped my horn (O.K., maybe it was a 5 second honk), and the minivan pulled back onto the street only to resume at a speed 5 miles per hour under the legal limit.
Welcome to Portland.
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