Ridicule is the burden of genius

I’m married to one of those men who watch too much television in general, and way too much fishing television in particular. I long ago stopped feigning even a mild interest in watching men hyperventilate and/or overreact over the simple act of catching a fish, which just doesn’t seem to hold nearly the mystery and allure for some of us that it does for others (and we’re not really sorry that we don’t share the love).

Anyway, the other day one of the fishing shows took a commercial break. I was reading and trying not to listen, but you know how the volume tends to go up when it’s commercial time, so that even if you’ve gone into the other room you don’t miss the sales pitch. It was an ad for Duck Hunter, an indoor hunting game. A father and son were shown enjoying themselves, their “camo” clothing matching the upholstery and curtains in their house, à la Sound of Music, as they gleefully shot infrared beams at the fake duck, which flapped its fake wings and flew around the house, carefully navigating objects like ceiling lights. Tell me this is how it would play out at your place, where there are clearly no impediments to indoor flight by an blind winged item that’s tossed randomly into the air. Meanwhile, it takes three successful shots to kill the duck, or stop its flight, so you’ve gotta work to take him down.



















Indoor hunting games…almost as fun as indoor motocross and at a fraction of the cost. I might even get my guy the extreme indoor/outdoor version. Imagine, his playing outside!

Rat in me kitchen

Got up this morning, went into the kitchen to make coffee, opened the cupboard and found an early Valentine’s gift from better half perched beside the mugs.
















Wasn’t he sweet, hiding them like that for maximum early morning enjoyment? This man is fluent in the language of love, let me tell you. And over the years he’s taught me enough that I, too, am capable of making the occasional romantic gesture, which is why he’ll be getting a love coupon book after dinner tonight.

‘Course, I removed all the coupons for things like back rubs, lap dances and snuggling. Hey, there are still three “control television all day” coupons, several that are good for a full-house vacuum, and one offering 50% off on a sincere show of empathy, so he still got the better end of this deal.

Matters to me

You know how sometimes you start paying attention to a certain topic and before you know it, you're finding it everywhere? It’s kind of like how if you start looking for blue cars, you’re going to see a lot of blue cars. Or you look at the clock one day at 2:12 and then that number combination recurs in other arenas. This is one of life’s more enjoyable phenomena; when it happens to you, be glad you noticed. Don’t get spooked out, it's all good. Maybe someone’s trying to get your attention for very specific reasons, or maybe it’s just a big coincidence.

In any case, my focal topic in the past few days has been methods of optimizing brain health (let me guess, you were expecting something much more lowbrow, and 99% of the time you’d have been right!). What I’ve already learned is that when you start thinking about your brain as well as with it, the results can be truly amazing as well as strangely serendipitous and uncannily unctuous. Example: this morning I made the mistake of doing a little holiday shopping and had a (meant to be?) rendezvous with this brain food, winner of a coveted creative child toy award and “ideal for networking your right and left brain.”

Enjoying its metallic sheen, hoping for something with the consistency and frangibility of mercury, I picked it up only to discover it was much more like my thinking putty than anything as volatile and erratic as mercury (or a brain). Hoping I’d made at least a few successful neural connections, I returned it to its place on the store shelf. Wonder if I should have made this purchase? Think it could stand in for duct tape in certain emergencies?

Keep up or fall behind

It’s getting to be that time of year again, isn’t it? You knew you were feeling busier lately than you’d been in, say, mid-July, when everything was kind of in a hazy, summery soft-serve mode. Then September arrived to pick up the pace, and you probably managed to keep in step. But it just so happens that the exact moment when people start thinking about holiday plans usually coincides precisely with an abrupt acceleration of their workloads, stress levels, and internal clock speeds. This week felt like a game of Wild Planet Hyper Dash to me; how about you? The game challenges one’s coordination, math and teamwork skills, overall speed, ability to create mnemonic devices and/or acronyms, knowledge of commercial lyrics/arcane trivia, and patience. It also leaves you a little breathless, with a rapid heartbeat, an adrenaline overload, and a healthy amount of self-doubt. If you’re going to stay on top of things in this, our modern world of today, you’ve got to be able to handle, or better yet, enjoy that sensation of being overburdened on as many levels as possible. Wild Planet Hyper Dash is only trying to help. Ready?

Double take/Memory Lane #7

Lazy Sunday afternoons often find me thinking about days gone by; then, as now, there’d often be a football game droning in the background, which meant some of us were going to be very restless without alternative entertainment options. Yesterday I was doing some deep cleaning (someone tell my mother-in-law, please) and found a few of the games that used to enchant us for hours.












Which witch? was so much fun! You tried to get yourself out of the haunted house made of cardboard…it was a “real,” three-dimensional house, crafted with such intricacy that I often found myself feeling as though I were really inside. I guess I was easy that way. Our family always got a little too rough with the whammy ball down the chimney part of the game, and then arguments tended to break out, which means my cardboard mansion is kind of flattened and bent and doesn’t much resemble the cover. I treasure it nonetheless.














And who didn’t love Strolling Bowling? Much to my surprise, this game is still on the market, keeping up with all of today’s fancy electronic devices. Trust me, kids, Guitar Hero has nothing on this game. See, the ball has little feet, and it “walks” over to the pins. Talk about a fast-paced game of skill and action! Plus, get it? Strolling bowling? Great, great game. Kind of. Okay, we never really played with it.

















On the other hand, we were cuckoo for Odd Ogg. You rolled one of the little balls his way, trying to aim beneath him, or at least between his hands. Hit him in the right place and he’d move forward, but if your ball gave him “the bad touch,” he’d move backward and stick out this big red tongue and give you the raspberry. The concept of a toy that would mock you when you made a mistake—why more companies didn’t follow Ideal’s lead will always be beyond me! Playing with Ogg was one of the best rehearsals for real life I ever experienced.

Worth every penny

You may have thought the days of being able to purchase anything for a penny were long over, but you were wrong, my friend. In 2004 you probably would have parted with about $13 for a bike accessory as cool as Spokey Dokes Sparky Spokes. (said it out loud, didn’t you?) The green plastic spark alone is worth at least a dime, not to mention the snazzy rhyming product name—and you haven’t even seen it in action! This baby is 16.1 pounds of fun, folks! That’s why we’re going to have to charge you $12.99 for shipping & handling. But the product itself costs only one cent, which we think is pretty tough to beat. Call within the next twenty minutes; you know we can’t do this all day.

Don't bobblehead me

This bobblehead doll claims to be Darla Hood. You know, Darla from Our Gang/Little Rascals, although facially it's probably equally close to Lucy Van Pelt of Peanuts fame. There’s even a hint of Natalie Green from Facts of Life, isn’t there, around the eyes and nose? And no, I did not know Natalie’s last name offhand; my brother was the big fan of that show, not me, so I gave him a mobile shout out. He’s also an excellent, practically encyclopedic, source of information if you need or want to reminisce about Full House, but he’d never admit that, and you didn’t hear it from me.







I digress, as always. This is the version of Darla they were clearly aiming for, the people at the bobblehead factory. And they at least got her outfit right…sort of. I’d never envisioned this as a teal jumper, but, hey, artistic license, whatever. Still, the doll just doesn't say "Darla," does it? She was way too cute and much too cool to end up as a cheesy bobblehead.

Right, Darla?

Games people play

Tonight we’re planning some at-home fun and mayhem (sorry, kids, this one’s for ages 12 and up only). We recently picked up this really fun game, A Look at Alcohol & Tobacco, and can’t keep ourselves away from it! It’s a good thing an answer key’s included, because after a few hours, no one seems to care how much an ounce of alcohol is, or how many belong in “one drink.” (we love those quotation marks; they know us so well!) We also enjoy taking a look at tobacco, which seems to complement our alcohol quite nicely; they make an attractive pairing.

















The morning after we play this game usually finds us spending lots of time in the bathroom and praying fervently to our St. Vivian figurine. Vivian’s the patron saint of hangovers—you knew there had to be one, didn’t you? Actually, she has a bit of an “I told you so” expression on her face, but we’re willing to turn to anything for assistance in difficult moments. We hollowed ours out and stuffed her with aspirin, so now she’s kind of the Pez dispenser of hangover patron saints; please go with whatever works best for you. And please shut the door quietly on your way out.

I wear my sunglasses at night

Ad copy for these fabulous spy gear spy vision glasses states that they’re immensely popular because kids expect the same results they see on-screen. Well, duh, don’t we all? Then, unlike the formula used in most advertisements, the honesty factor is suddenly upped: the cool looking (not seen here) techno-pack “actually just holds batteries.” Whoa. And then: “Don’t expect much.” Almost makes you want to reconsider the purchase, doesn’t it? As if that’s not enough, the next sentence delivers what should be the kiss of death: we’re informed that the glasses “are useless for deflecting UV rays, exploring underwater, or—not so surprising—penetrating darkness.” What the hell is going on here? Why are we being told these...facts? Does someone not understand the way product advertising is supposed to work? Where's the hype, the lies, the exaggeration? And yet, such blatant honesty must be working, because there are only a few left in stock. Frankly, we’re refreshed, yet confused...and that’s a sensation not frequently experienced, so bonus points have been awarded.

No, they're action figures

We all grew up, and/or continue to grow up, with some inescapable Disney exposure. Available in every conceivable format, Disney products have become one of the most ubiquitous of American icons, exuding an aura of innocence, goodness, and that wonderful blend of enchantment, happiness and oversized eyes that we all enjoy just a little too much for our own good. What’s almost universally overlooked is the fact that Disney, particularly the Disney of days gone by—dirty old keepin’ it real Disney—knew that fun comes in many packages and flavors, not all of them wholesome. Here’s one of my favorite Disney collectibles. It’s Pinocchio having fun with his pal Lampwick. They’ve been smoking stogies, pounding a few brewskis and are currently enjoying a rather messy game of pool. Sure, Lampwick eventually got turned into a jackass for behavior such as this, but the story’s not named for him, is it?

Nothing but Star Wars, give me those Star Wars

Yeah, you grew up a long time ago, but that doesn’t mean every facet of your life has to bear the dull and stodgy stamp of adulthood, does it? Break free from the pack, thrill your inner child and impress a few of your neighbors when you take out your trash then proudly lid it with the Star Wars Battle Droid Bucket Topper. “Hey, mine didn’t come with one of those!” they’ll be thinking, trying in vain to recall their garbage can purchasing experiences. The kids also might be a little more likely to participate in trash night when you show them how well the lid doubles as a shield, although they’ll probably just stare at you and remind you that Star Wars isn’t cool any more and hasn’t been for about a generation. And yet, there are those of you occupying a certain demographic—we know who you are, and that there’s a bit of expendable income lurking in there—and for you this product is a must-have and will probably inhabit a room filled with similar products, lonely boyhood dreams, and kind of a weird smell. We’re happily prepared to take full advantage of that.

Then you should have said "a real dog"

In a roughshod economy, we’re all looking for affordability and increased dollar/value ratios, and here’s a product that really delivers. It’s your very own inflatable pet…and therefore none of the typical pet-oriented inconveniences, such as feeding, walking and training. He’ll always be a good boy, and won’t ever bother the neighbors with barking. Plus, his eyes light up! That practically makes up for his not being real, right? Come on, you know you didn’t expect a product angle to come sidling up to your heart like that. Lighting is still relatively fresh in the inflatable world, hence the all-important inset of his eyes, which are lit up, in case you can’t tell. Trust us, it looks a lot better in the dark, but then the dog doesn’t show up.

Ad copy: “Perfect for events, decoration, Displays, Birthday parties, gifts, kids, Advertising and Marketing will catch attention, museums and educational purposes and collections,” which covers a lot of ground pretty ineptly. Imagine Junior’s face when, after all those months of taking out the trash and waiting patiently, he gets ‘his own dog’ at last!

Macular regeneration

Time for a little honesty: how long has it been since your last eye exam? Me, too; at least that long. Talk about something easily postponed. But be careful with this one, kids, because some of this bodily stuff can catch up with you. There’s actually a point past which glasses can help, and no one wants to end up there. A friend of mine waited too long, and instead of going without her sight fix, she decided to forge a new path, bless her trailblazing heart.

After some experimentation, she opted for the sturdy compromise offered by the Jakks EyeClops Bionic Eye, a handheld device which magnifies up to 200 times normal size. It plugs into any television jack; whatever’s in front of the eyeclops is displayed on-screen. This little device immediately rectified the situation; she can now see everything she needs to within 10 feet of her television, which is a great start. Coming soon, she hopes: portability.

Packaging is everything

Say hello to the Marie Osmond Summer Sunshine Porcelain Doll. She’s 10 inches of seated perfection, but it’s hard to tell when you first see her.






















She looks mighty uncomfortable in her striped pink box, swaddled in plastic, cradled by cardboard, arms nowhere in sight, suffering the humiliation of what must be a summer sunshine costume that seems to surround her face with bi-colored felt sunrays. One of a limited edition of only 2,500, the doll “has been handcrafted with the special attention to detail that is the hallmark of all Marie Osmond dolls. She is hallmarked on the back of her neck with Marie's signature and is hand numbered.” Extra points awarded for using the word hallmark in two consecutive sentences. Truly, the amount of time, effort, thought and planning that have clearly gone into this product are unparalleled. Kudos to you, Marie; congrats on the weight loss as well.

Now, let's work on this.

Even if nobody else sings along

Check out Mr. Happy Hand: he got a Groove Glove for Christmas and hasn’t stopped playing with it yet. It’s hard to blame him. This product delivers months of fun, at minimum. It’s a little DJ deck complete with four sound controls (one per finger), allowing you to add your own scratches, riffs, and samples to all your favorite songs. Just imagine the delight of everyone around you, as you serenade the world with music done your way.

With your other hand, reach into your pocket and pull out your Stylophone. It’s a mini electronic organ (guys, we know: you’ve already got an organ in there) from the late ‘60s, revamped for today’s needs. You’re a veritable one-man band, and we haven’t even involved your legs yet. Stylophones are capable of adding that sweet midi-like slice of wonderful-ness to any tune. Everyone enjoys its dulcet tones, which take many of us back to simpler times involving church, malls and game shows. Forget mp3 players and make your own kind of music.

Stylin'

Do you have today off? Much to my displeasure, I do not, which kind of negates the concept of a national holiday and starts the week on a bit of a blue note. But after spending much of the weekend playing with my new board game, Lifestyles of the Poor and Disgusting, I almost relish the idea of earning a few bucks. There are no champagne wishes or caviar dreams here; it’s a harsh introduction to the lifestyle many of us have been enjoying for quite some time. Players vie for food, shelter, clothing and the ever-coveted transportation while trying not to become depressed or anxious by their overdue bill notices and lack of ability to feed themselves. Manufacturer suggests optional use as a drinking game. One can even make arrangements for Robin Leach to come and narrate a few rounds; his cell phone number is included at no extra charge.

Playing the spoons

I grew up in a monetarily-deprived household but was blissfully unaware of it because kids will play with anything if they’re not too commercially exposed (this may no longer be humanly possible). We always seemed to have an endless variety of activities, games and toys, and not just the standard stuff. For instance, we had hours of fun in the basement pretending a fold-out ironing board was a pommel horse and doing “gymnastics.” I didn’t realize at the time how frequently we managed to get double duty out of things that weren’t intended for play, but when I think back, I realize we made toys out of everything.

I’m sure if these wooden spoon puppets had been on the market back then, we’d have owned a set. Hell, we probably would gleefully have played with undecorated wooden spoons, much less ones with necklaces and moustaches. Soon you’ll find yourself eyeing other kitchen implements and making comparisons. I think my tongs could use a little cardigan, and my spatulas might look kind of sharp in that shirt/tie combo.

The yolk's on your stress

Over and over the headlines tell us the same story: stress is a health hazard in addition to being one of life’s major annoyances. We know we’re not supposed to let things get to us, but we can’t help it—a lot of things are trying really hard to get to us and doing a great job of it. We’re all aware of methods of relieving stress, so that once things have gotten to us, we can attempt to purge ourselves of the resulting stress, but that cathartic moment of feeling truly stress free never seems to arrive. In fact, most people trying to negotiate modern life find themselves served up huge and unending portions of stress at nearly every turn, and it starts to accumulate in unsightly areas. Many eventually find their old standby techniques—deep breathing, overeating, exercise, vast quantities of alcohol, etc.—incapable of making even a small dent in the stress onslaught.

But don’t succumb to the subsequent health decline just yet. Now there’s a stress reliever that’s fun, fascinating, and can also be used as a teaching aid to inspire young children. (Except we’re not going to explain how that part works. Just show it to them and talk about eggs.) The smash-it egg yolk stress relief splatter water toy sticks to almost any surface and bounces back to its original eggy shape time after time. It’s that simple, but the best solutions always are. There’s just something really soothing about a fake raw egg, or maybe the soothing part comes after lobbing this at your current source of stress. Either way, it's an express trip to Stress Relief City.

Astro-tastic/Memory Lane #6

There was a time when all a toy had to do to be cool/fun was sound as though it had something to do with outer space. We were convinced that we’d grow up to be astronauts because by the time we got out of the jet age, we’d all be doing our share of interplanetary traveling. Everyone knew that. It was going to be really cool.

Astro Launch was a much-loved game. You’d pull your little knob to pop the die, and if you rolled a lucky number you could take a short cut across the cosmos.


















Then there was Astrolite (yes, from the fun folks who brought us Lite Brite), which allowed us to build glowing futuristic cities. And if you spun the wheel, color came out to play. Who didn’t enjoy that?

The beloved Astroray gun, with its spark and friction power, not to mention an ultra-modern triangular box, was the favorite toy of millions. Who knew what kind of giant shuttlecocks might be racing around the galaxy? Plus, cats hated it, which provided many additional hours of astral enjoyment.

Turn on your heart lights

The plasma heart provides hours of palpitatingly well-lit enjoyment. Battery operated (batteries not included, of course) and/or capable of being used with an ac adaptor (don’t even think about it), the heart lights up wherever you touch it. If you’re not touching it, though, it’s just a tacky little plastic (oh, right, plasmic) heart on a pedestal.

And if you’re a guy who’s afraid of the dark, but way too masculine for the plasma heart, how about Sparkdino? Wind him up, and not only does he walk, but his mouth ejects sparks. Ad copy: Sparkdino!! We adore him!! He'll light up the very cockles of your heart.