Monthly Archives: September 2011

Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam

I love Spam.

The kind you eat.

Well, maybe love is too strong a word. But I like Spam. In a world where people eat raw fish — and pay premium prices to do so — Spam is not only a taste sensation but a bargain.

Okay, maybe there’s a bit of tongue in cheek — not to mention meat byproducts — in this ode to Hormel’s processed meat. But I genuinely enjoy the stuff.

My dad was a Spam eater from way back. (Or, if you prefer, SPAM. But that seems kind of stilted, so for the purposes of this blog, it’s Spam.)

Spam was a taste my dad acquired in World War II, when he was stationed in the Pacific Theater and spent part of his time as an Army cook. Hormel says 100 million pounds of Spam was shipped overseas during World War II. Some of it was even eaten. Much of it was used by my dad in various recipes.

During the war, my dad ate Spam because he had to but retained an appreciation for it, which he passed along to me.

Some of the foods of my youth — most sugary cereals, Beanie Weanies — don’t stand the taste-test of time today. Spam does, however.

I can eat it fresh (well … ) out of the can. I can eat it cold. I can eat it fried, preferably with eggs.

Part of the continuing appeal of Spam, I think, is that it horrifies my son so much. I enjoy torturing him by pulling a can of Spam out of our cabinet — I think that can has been there for much of his young life — and telling him, “What do you think? Should we have Spam tonight?” He reacts with disgust, of course, and so far I haven’t actually made him eat any.

Spam has gotten a bad rap in recent years. Its reputation took on a new luster with Monty Python’s “Spamalot,” but there’s not a lot that even a spoofy Broadway musical can do to overcome the onus of having particularly obnoxious junk email named after it.

Dang. All this writing about Spam is making me hungry. I don’t have any reason to worry that the can of Spam has been eaten, but it might have disappeared from the cabinet through some Spam-preventive skullduggery.

Ah, no. Still there. Waiting for me.

Soon, Spam. Soon.

iPhoneography Part … uh … more Halloween photos

It has been too long since the last installment of iPhone pictures of fun, cool and cheesy Halloween costumes, masks and decor available in your finer retail establishments. So long, in fact, that I’ve lost track of how many installments we’ve had.

So let’s get to it!

First, with apologies to IT guys and girls everywhere, there’s the computer nerd costume. The dorky glasses and pocket protector, sure, but the teeth? I’ve never seen an IT person with those teeth. I think they’re hillbilly costume teeth that got included in this package by accident.

Speaking of odd costume choices, what is it about this trench coat that makes it a “nightmare trench coat?” Beats me.

And who knew they had carvable artificial pumpkins? They’re kind of an interesting variation on the traditional pumpkin, without all the guts and seeds. But the one that I checked out was hard as a rock. I foresee even more pumpkin-carving-related trips to the emergency room with this baby. Funkins indeed.

I think these skeleton candleholders are actually pretty darn cool.

It’s hard to tell from this picture, but this is a freaky little doll, only four or five inches tall. You squeeze its lower midsection and it shrieks and its eyes light up. I’m tellin’ ya, it’s freaky.

Of course, my eyes light up if you squeeze my lower midsection. I might even shriek.

The last two photos for this time around are of those wall decorations that look like a three-dimensional face (and hand, in this case) pushing out of the wall. Kinda cool, huh?

But … the manufacturer ruins everything by hiring a bad actor for the packaging. Look at this guy. Do you believe he’s frightened by that face pushing out of the wall behind him? Or does that expression say something else, like “Wow, I shouldn’t have had that burrito.”

More next time!

‘Shocking’ developments in horror movies chronicled

If I live to be a hundred, I don’t think I’ll forget the anticipation I felt waiting to see the 1973 thriller “The Exorcist.”

The movie, which had opened just after Christmas in big cities, had made its way to Muncie movie theaters by early 1974 and my friends and I at Cowan High School were eager to see it.

Eager? We were positively nuts about seeing the movie.

I was a horror movie fan from childhood, having grown up on classic Universal horror films and fun-but-sometimes-camp 1960s Vincent Price/Roger Corman flicks.

But “The Exorcist” was something else entirely. A big-studio movie, it was being promoted through a high-profile TV and newspaper ad campaign and the kind of word of mouth that money couldn’t buy.

Newspaper and magazine articles recounted the audience reaction to the film, about a pre-teen girl apparently possessed by the devil. People who saw the movie were fainting and wretching in theaters when confronted by scenes of the girl — played by newcomer Linda Blair — vomiting green bile and backhanding priests. Not to mention that crucifix scene.

My friends and I talked and joked about the movie incessantly. When we finally went to see it, some of the joking stopped. As we waited in the crowded theater for the movie to begin, I could hear a very anxious woman behind me, expressing concern that the movie might be too much for her. I sat forward in my seat, worried that she might throw up on me.

“The Exorcist” was in many ways typical of the new wave of more realistic, more controversial horror movies that were released in the late 1960s and throughout the 1970s, a period documented in Jason Zinoman’s new book, “Shock Value.”

Zinoman covers a lot of ground and a lot of personalities in his book. The big, well-known movies and names are here, as well as the players who had great influence on the new wave of horror films but who were little-known outside Hollywood circles.

One of them is Dan O’Bannon, who, while a student at USC, made a funny science fiction movie called “Dark Star” along with a friend and fellow student, John Carpenter. The ultra-low-budget movie, about the growing madness among members of the crew of a deep-space mission to destroy unstable planets, is odd and funny and made the best of its shoestring budget. The movie’s alien is a spray-painted beach ball with feet. Seriously.

Carpenter, as some of you might know, went on four years later to direct “Halloween,” the 1978 classic that changed horror movies and influenced generations of filmmakers.

O’Bannon co-wrote another classic, “Alien,” but found his career eclipsed by Carpenter. Plagued by medical problems and a bad reputation in moviemaking circles, O’Bannon died in 2009; his memorial service was attended by relatively few of his contemporaries. Zinoman’s book portrays him as a pivotal but tragic figure in modern-day movies.

“Shock Value” touches on many of the best and most notorious movies and filmmakers of the period, from “Night of the Living Dead” and its director, George Romero — I’ll tell you about my interview with Romero in another blog entry — as well as “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre” and its director, Tobe Hooper. Like O’Bannon, Hooper was responsible for one of the most influential movies ever made. And as was the case with O’Bannon, Hooper found himself struggling to equal his early successes.

I was a movie fan and, later, a movie reviewer during much of the period documented in the book and even interviewed some of the leading characters from Zinoman’s story, including Romero and Carpenter. But “Shock Value” told me things I didn’t know, including the shady reputation of the people who financed “Chainsaw Massacre” and some of Carpenter’s inspirations for “Halloween.” If you’ve ever seen the 1961 ghost story “The Innocents,” for example, you’ll appreciate when Zinoman quotes Carpenter about the effectiveness of placing macabre characters in the far background of a shot.

In these days of the Internet and instant updates on movies while they’re still in production, it’s refreshing to find a scholarly but accessible look back at some classic scary movies and the people who made them. “Shock Value” is both enjoyable and informative.

‘Dark Shadows’ cast looking good

I loved the daytime supernatural soap opera “Dark Shadows” when I was a kid. It aired every weekday afternoon right about the time I got home from elementary school and it was a must-watch for me while I worked on my homework. In fact, thrilling to the adventures of Barnabas Collins — the original vampire teen idol — Quentin, Willie Loomis and the rest of the Collins clan probably contributed to my schoolwork deficiency.

Despite my love for the show, which ran from 1966 to 1971 and aired periodically in syndication for years after, I wasn’t excited about the news that Tim Burton was making a big-screen version starring Johnny Depp.

Burton’s last several movies have been overblown messes and I assumed “Dark Shadows” would be when it comes out next year.

Then I saw the cast photo. And loved it.

The characters, makeup, 1960s period clothes and even the attitudes all look just right.

The movie still might be a mess. But I’m looking forward to at least checking it out.

Above you’ll find the photo of the new cast as published this week by Entertainment Weekly. Below you’ll find an original cast photo.

A two-fisted drinker

I didn’t set out to confuse waitresses in Chinese restaurants. I really didn’t.

And, of course, it’s not just servers in Chinese restaurants who are confused when I order two drinks. It’s wait staff at almost every restaurant where I eat.

I don’t remember when I started asking for a water and a Diet Pepsi or unsweet tea. A long time ago.

You see, when I get seated at a restaurant and the waiter or waitress takes my drink order, I ask for — most commonly — a Diet Pepsi (Diet Coke if absolutely necessary) and ice water.

At some point, many years ago, I figured, “Hey, it wouldn’t hurt to balance out all that Diet Pepsi with some water. Water’s good for you, after all. They — science types I guess — say we don’t drink enough water. So I’ll order a glass of water along with my Diet Pepsi or unsweet tea.”

I also decided a glass of water was a good defense against negligent waitressing. If they never come back to the table and ask if I want a refill of Diet Pepsi, no big deal. I’ve got a glass of water handy. I’ve even been known to order a glass of water alongside a beer.

I usually have the same combo at home, in case you’re wondering if I inflict this odd preference only on professional servers. But at home I often get my drinks myself so it doesn’t matter.

Now this water-and-pop combo doesn’t faze some servers. But others are puzzled by it or even disbelieving.

In some restaurants, the server cocks an eyebrow and asks, “You want a Diet and a water?”

At others, they nod, walk away and return with just the water or just the Diet Pepsi. Not both.

At a few places, if I’m dining with someone, they assume I’ve just ordered for the other person and speed away, returning with a water and a Diet Pepsi that they arbitrarily assign to one or the other of us.

This just results in my dining companion being disgruntled.

Sorry for all the confusion, but I’m not going to change my preferences just because a server can’t figure them out.

Not to say that I’m not willing to find ways to emphasize that, yes, even though I’m just one person, I’m ordering two drinks.

“Can I get a Diet (pause) and a water please?” I ask.

I’ve even experimented with reversing the order, wondering if I say water before Diet, maybe that will signal they shouldn’t assume I’m just afflicted with some multiple-drink-ordering version of Tourettes.

“Could I get a water (pause) and a Diet please?”

I have yet to find a perfect way to pose this apparently unorthodox request.

Until I do, I’ll continue to get responses like one from a couple of days ago.

I told the waitress I wanted a Diet Pepsi and a water and she nodded, turned to walk away … then turned back.

“You want a Diet and a water?” she asked.

Yes, please. And thank you. And, apparently, sorry.

Once you’ve had Facebook, you’ll never go back

In watching the reaction to the new Facebook today — reaction that ranged from irritation to outrage — I was reminded of David Letterman’s straight-faced observation about pop star Madonna back in the 1980s. “I think she wants to shock us,” Letterman said, tongue in cheek.

Earlier today I compared FB to a significant other who flirts or picks a fight just to make sure we’re still paying attention and not taking them for granted.

Sure, there’s some legitimate reason for upgrading and offering your users the latest and best features. But I think FB wants to remind its bazillion users how much it means to us.

Even if that means pissing us off.

As someone who has been in the communications business since I was a teenager, I can testify to the feeling engendered by reader reaction. No matter if it’s a complaint about a controversial story or photo or, even worse, the removal of a beloved comic strip, the response is appreciated. It means people are paying attention, that you’re still part of their everyday lives.

Face it, most of us might never take up Twitter (although you should, because it’s really fun) or Google+ (yawn). But for those bazillion of us who check in to FB every day — even if our devotion is far more casual than “checking in” via Foursquare or more low key than posting our latest rant about an irritating co-worker or prodigious child — we’ll keep checking in, no matter how many times we threaten to quit FB.

And no silly revamping of the way our pages look will keep us away.

Now, let me tell you what I don’t like about the new Facebook …

iPhoneography: Halloween at the dollar store

It’s a very special installment of iPhone photos of Halloween stuff. This time: Halloween stuff at the dollar store!

Dollar stores are an increasingly successful part of the country’s retail industry. Customers have even forsaken discount stores like Walmart to patronize dollar stores.

Of course, dollar stores have their limitations, especially when it comes to Halloween merchandise. You won’t find a large selection of masks and costumes there. You will find some basic masks, a good variety of creepy decor and bags of sugary treats.

Here’s a quick look at the best of the dollar store’s eerie merchandise.

These skeletons wearing shrouds are actually pretty cool. They’re small, of course, but detailed and effective.

And here’s the Carrot Top version:

Dollar stores might not have elaborate costumes, but they’ve got a heck of a variety of cloth to compliment a costume.

There’s creepy cloth:

Not sure exactly what makes it creepy.

And bloody cloth, which is self-explanatory and just as creepy. Maybe creepier.

My favorite part of this is imagining the offshore factory where this is made. “Yeah, Marge, they switched me from the creepy cloth to the bloody cloth production line today.”

Here’s the 787th invention that I wish I had come up with. I hope the person who invented the squashed witch is getting some royalties.

And thank goodness for warnings:

“Oh my gosh, I was about to give this blow-up plastic ghost to Timmy to use in the pool as a floatation device. Good thing I saw this warning.”

And, last but not least, the ever-popular graveyard rat.

Now with extra red eyes!

More to come.

Chet and Bernie to the rescue

One of the most enjoyable mystery series out there is Spencer Quinn’s Chet and Bernie series.

Bernie is Bernie Little, a California PI. Chet is his dog.

And Chet narrates the stories.

If it sounds kind of cutesy to you, kind of cozy and coy, you’re wrong. While dog lovers will find plenty to like about the books and the dogs-point-of-view that Chet brings to the stories, these are always funny, sometimes tough, often exciting stories in the hardboiled PI genre.

It just so happens, in the case of Quinn’s books, that the hardboiled PI here is Chet.

Quinn — the pseudonym of novelist Peter Abrahams — has created quite a pair. Bernie Little is a former athlete turned PI whose knack for righting wrongs is exceeded only by his bad financial judgment. Chet is his fiercely loyal companion who washed out of K-9 school.

Chet’s narration is frequently touching — the dog thinks Bernie can do no wrong, except when it comes to the aforementioned finances — and almost always funny. As told from Chet’s point of view, the stories are refreshingly straightforward good guys versus bad guys tales leavened with a dog’s outsider-looking-in-on-human-foibles perspective.

Not that Chet is all-knowing. He might be one of the best examples of the “unreliable narrator” style of writing. While Chet “recounts” to us readers the conversations he hears but doesn’t always understand, there are tantalizing gaps in what we know, usually occurring when Chet notices a Cheeto on the floor or gets distracted by the mention of a ball, missing some crucial bit of information.

Not to mention when Chet knows the key to the mystery and who the bad guys are … but can’t communicate that to Bernie, of course.

The latest in Quinn’s series, “The Dog Who Knew Too Much” — really don’t be put off; the titles are the punniest elements of the stories — finds Chet and Bernie investigating the disappearance of a new client’s son, who goes missing from a wilderness camp.

Before long, the man-and-dog duo are trying to find the boy and running afoul of vicious small-time crooks. There are more than a few moments of tension for the two, but the book — like the earlier entries in the series — happily ends with, as Chet would put it, the bad guys in orange jumpsuits breaking rocks in the sun.

People who love dogs will appreciate Quinn’s grasp of the psychology of man’s best friend. Fans of crime novels will like Bernie’s handiness with a gun or his fists and appreciate Chet’s enthusiasm over bringing down a perp with a few well-placed bites.

If you’re so inclined, Quinn maintains a good blog at Chetthedog.com that features reader-submitted photos of “Friends of Chet.”

Quinn’s books are a treat — and not just the kind that Chet and the other members of “the nation within the nation” would enjoy.

iPhoneography: Halloween stuff part three

I’ve neglected the posting of iPhone photos of masks, decor and the proverbial etcetera about my favorite holiday for too long. Time to remedy that oversight.

The National Retail Federation, that pro-shopping, pro-spending outfit that forecasts consumer trends, hasn’t yet predicted how much we’ll spend on Halloween this year. Last year, the NRF forecast Americans would spend $6 billion on Halloween costumes, candy and decorations. I’m not sure that projection worked out, considering the state of the economy. We’ll see what they say when they come up with this year’s number.

As Halloween has morphed from a holiday for kids that adults tolerated a generation ago to a full-blown excuse to party and begin eating snack-size Snickers in September, canny retailers have found bigger, better and bloodier Halloween goodies to sell us.

“Bigger” especially applies to the trend we’ve seen in the past few years of life-size ghouls and ghosts for Halloween decor.

While I’m not a huge fan of the “Scream” movie franchise — I thought the first film was pretty good though — I have to say I’d be impressed if somebody put this life-size Ghostface figure on their porch.

 

Much more timeless is a good old human skull replica. Here’s a shelf full at Target.

I thought this mini skeleton at Target was pretty cool. It’s appropriately spooky and atmospheric.

To round out this edition, how about this: A bag of mice. Who doesn’t need a bag of mice? Although if we brought these into the house, my cat would go nuts.

More next time!