Archive for the ‘nostalgia’ Category

Winding the watch of his wit

I miss watches. Remember watches? Like, for your wrist? I miss them, and I’ve been spending an inordinate amount of time looking at watch porn. This slightly-garish solar hybrid watch from Poketo is going to be my next thing. It’s solar powered! Remember solar power? It’s okay if you don’t.

Twenty years ago I thought everything was going to be solar powered in the future. And everyone would be walking around with wristwatch calculators. The wristwatch was the ultimate realization of any idea. What if your watch played video games? What if your watch could hold music on it? I was going to live in a huge mansion and have an entire wall of wristwatches that did different things. That’s how I would know that I made it.

Watches, man. Watches.


From Video Warriors Ravens Grew Red

I have long been searching for footage of Video Power, a 90s game show focused on video games and the people who play them. All I could recall about the show was haunting images of little kids in kinky velcro suits, so it was somewhat difficult to Google without breaking the law. This morning I finally remembered the title and was able to dig up this YouTube clip. There’s a lot packed in there, but I’d like to call out a few items:

1. Everyone had ADHD in the 90s. You can easily tell the medicated (the contestants) from the unmedicated (the hosts). I was kind of worried that the guy in the powder blue blazer was going to talk so fast that he caught fire. Maybe we were just really, really excited about video games in 1991?
2. Pre-teens were kept in cages. Most visible at the 24 second mark. Again, something I remembered about the show but was afraid to Google.
3. Kids were really bad at shopping sprees. So you’re covered in velcro… and everything around you has a velcro backing on it… and you manage to walk away with five games? And one of them is Batman?! Here was my fantasy strategy when I was eight years old: knock over all the isle kiosks, then just roll around on the floor. I remember screaming at the TV when contestants would just grab three copies of Bayou Billy and that’s it.
4. Poor dude won a Neo Geo. He was probably pretty pumped until he went to Toys R Us the next morning and realized his parents would have to mortgage their house in order to afford a game for it.
5. “Write to me and tell me In five words or more why you should be a contestant.” I don’t think I’ve ever seen a minimum on things like this. I’m not really sure how this could be expressed in less than five words. “I am good at video games.” That’s six words right there. I wonder if these kids took the five word minimum to heart and grew up to write the brand of long, nerdy blog entries that are dismissed with tl;dr.

I miss niche shows like this, and game shows in general. Do game shows exist anymore, outside of Jeopardy and the Price is Right? Or have they all evolved into “reality challenges” like Survivor and Flavor of Love? At least Game Center CX is keeping the dream alive.


Paul Hogan is rolling in his grave

My mother never bought me Dunkaroos as a kid. Maybe because they are cookies that you dip in frosting. The ingredients list reads like a who’s-who of what should never enter your body:

Sugar, Water, High Maltose Corn Syrup, Tommy Lee, Wheat Starch, Salt, Distilled Monoglyceride, Polysorbate 60, Sodium Tripolyphosphate, Sodium Acid Pyrophosphate, Citric Acid, Nonfat Milk, Potassium Sorbate.

Or maybe it was the fact that the commercial mentions “triple fisting it.” I may have been an overexposed kid, but I thought that was a weird thing to say way back when this first aired. Where does that third fist come from? How is this not incredibly creepy?


Bonerkiller: The Destruction of Youth


Listen: I am, apparently, an eligible bachelor. I have at least been described as such by my friends, or ranked as an eligible bachelor in various local magazines. I have a good job, I am intelligent, and I am single.

Because of that, the “ladies” have been knocking down my door. Problem is, I apparently hate ladies. I constantly reject dates based on various items that only I find important. Such as this: you are 25 years old, but deny ever having been a fan of Clarissa Explains It All. You, milady, are a goddamn liar. There is no one who didn’t like that show. When someone tells me they’re not familiar with it, I just think “they are ashamed.” And then we never see each other again.

Here’s a Pro Tip: don’t deny what defined you. Guys like to hear about what weird stuff you were into as a kid, because all guys were into weird stuff as a kid as well. If a guy doesn’t care about this stuff, he’s too old for you.

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