Category Archives: Nostalgia

I’m a child of the ’80s so this will mostly feature thoughts about G.I. Joe, Transformers and other toys and cartoons from the Reagan Era.

Big Snoopys Cry, Too

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There’s this child development experiment in psychology that tests when and how children develop concrete and symbolic understanding of their surroundings.  A psychologist–or experimenter–shows a child a room, simple but fully furnished, and then takes the child next door and shows the child a miniature model of that first room, laid out the exact same way with identical furniture just scaled down for the model.  The model is symbolic for the room, yeah?

Then the experimenter shows the child a large stuffed doll of Snoopy, the beloved dog from Peanuts, as well as much smaller scale Snoopy figurine.  The experimenter shows the child both Snoopys, big and little, and then hides Little Snoopy somewhere in the model room.  Behind a couch, under a chair, or beneath a pillow on the couch, it doesn’t matter where the experimenter hides Little Snoopy; the point is that the experimenter shows the child where the toy is being hidden.  The child sees, and understands, that Little Snoopy is hidden behind the couch, or under the chair, or beneath a pillow on the couch in that little model room.

After that, the experimenter shows the child Big Snoopy again and takes the doll into that first room represented by the model.  The child is left in the room with the model, while the experimenter hides Big Snoopy in the first room, unseen by the child.  The experimenter returns and tells the child that Big Snoopy is hidden in the same place in the room as Little Snoopy is hidden in the model.

The child’s level of concrete and symbolic development will determine whether or not he or she can find where Big Snoopy is hidden in the room.  A child operating at a lower developmental level will wander around the room looking for Big Snoopy; she might check under the chair even though she saw the experimenter hide Little Snoopy under the pillow.  She does not make the symbolic connection between the real room and the model room.  Conversely, a child functioning at a higher level, will see the experimenter hide Little Snoopy behind the couch and immediately check behind the couch when he enters the first room because he understands that the model represents the room and objects and Snoopys should be in the same place.

When I was three years old, my parents took me to a child psychologist.  She performed this Big Snoopy/Little Snoopy experiment with me.  She hid Little Snoopy under the pillow on the couch, but when she took Big Snoopy into the first room to hide it, I moved Little Snoopy to behind the chair in the model room.  When the experimenter took me into the first room to find Big Snoopy, I checked behind the chair.  It wasn’t there, and I began to cry.  The experimenter showed me that Big Snoopy was hidden under the pillow, and then I screamed that she lied, she was tricking me.  We argued and I took the experimenter back into the room to show her that, no, Little Snoopy had been behind the chair, the same place I checked first in the big room.  The experimenter looked justifiably confused, and I asked her if she got off on fucking with people’s emotions.

She hanged herself that night.

GO BEARS!!!

Goin’ Back to Find a Simpler Place and Time

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Tomorrow morning I’ll be hitting the road for the twenty-hour drive back to my hometown of DeKalb, Illinois.  As I take a break from packing, the thought of going back there puts me in a sort of mood that reminds me of one of my favorite songs that I’d like to share with you tonight.

Returning to the house I grew up in, and the family who acquired me from a slovenly banker from Texas in exchange for the pink slip to a 1980 Citroen, but raised me as their own nonetheless, is a bit of a concession.  I go home to see my family twice a year so they don’t have to come to me.  It may seem like a one-sided, terribly inconvenient compromise, but when it comes to visiting… anybody, I prefer the freedom of mobility–to up and leave at the first sign of danger or talk of grandchildren.

The wedding ring pictured was part of the Citroen trade. It symbolized my real father’s “divorce from banking” and his new life as a journalist and lunatic.

Before I proceed allow me to clarify something.  I don’t consider my parents’ house my home anymore.  DeKalb may be the town I grew up in but it’s not where I live now, so it ain’t my home.  The old saying home is where the heart is…?  I’ve always taken that literally.  Wherever I go, wherever I sleep, assuming my heart is with me, is my home, be it my parents’ house of twenty-five years, a college dorm room, a hotel, an apartment, drunk tank, whatever.  When I moved out DeKalb–when I left home, it stopped being home.

However, for the purposes of this post and the romance of its connotation, I’ll refer to going back to that house in DeKalb as going home.

And when I think of “going home”, I think of–strangely–going off to college, and the song “Midnight Train to George”.

Gladys Knight & The Pips – Midnight Train to Georgia

The song, performed by Gladys Knight and The Pips in 1973, became the Motown/soul group’s biggest hit, featured in movies, television, and two amazing musical parodies.  In 1977, The Pips sans Gladys Knight appeared on The Richard Pryor Show where they performed background vocals to the group’s hit songs.  Meanwhile, the lead vocals, and lead vocalist, were noticeably absent.  Three decades later, Gladys Knight appeared on American Idol, only this time, standing in for The Pips were Jack Black and Robert Downey, Jr. (stars of the action comedy Tropic Thunder), along with Ben Stiller, son of legendary comedian Jerry Stiller.

When I first heard “Midnight Train”… really heard it… paid attention to it, in 2000, it rocketed up my personal Billboard chart to place in my Top 5 All-Time Favorite Songs, where it has stayed ever since.

Wikipedia has a nice write-up of the song’s genesis, narrative, and legacy.  It describes a failed artist and the narrator’s decision to uproot her life, possibly sacrificing all of her own dreams, in order to be with him:

The theme of the song is how romantic love can conquer differences in background. The boyfriend of the song’s narrator is a failed musician who left his native Georgia to move to Los Angeles to become a “superstar, but he didn’t get far”. He decides to give up, and “go back to the life he once knew.” Despite the fact that she’s settled and secure in herself, the narrator decides to move to Georgia with him: ”And I’ll be with him / On that midnight train to Georgia / I’d rather live in his world / Than live without him in mine.”

I was a freshman in college the first time I really listened to this song.  At the time I was feeling a bit like a failed artist, myself.  (What am I saying, “at the time”?)

See, I was one of those arrogant, angry teenagers who couldn’t wait to graduate high school and get out of his “dead end town”.  I was Luke Skywalker staring off at the twin suns of Tatooine, pining for a more meaningful place in the vast universe I was doomed never to see.  Except my parents weren’t dirt farmers barely scraping out a living well below the poverty line.  They were educated, middle-class workers, willing and able to pay my college tuition.  So maybe I wasn’t like Luke Skywalker; I was more like that asshole Imperial admiral who makes fun of Darth Vader until Vader Force-chokes him.

Assuming everyone else was stupid in the most dickish way possible, yeah, that sounds like me at eighteen.

After high school I wanted to get as far away from DeKalb as possible.  So I headed out west…

And got roughly 150 miles, then settled into college at the University of Iowa.  Like the boyfriend in “Midnight Train”, I considered myself a superstar on the come, but I didn’t get far.  L.A. wasn’t too much, just too far.  So every holiday break I’d go home to DeKalb (except for that one Easter when they forgot me), and in the car I’d play this song and dwell on the humbling reality that instant fame and celebrity would not be mine.

The tune reminds me of failure, but not in a somber, depressing way.  There’s a line from a movie about a train whistle being one of the three most romantic sounds, and one of the loneliest.  ”Midnight Train to Georgia” reminds me a little of both.  There’s a romance to leaving home and making a life somewhere bigger, somewhere closer to Luke Skywalker’s perceived “bright center of the universe”.  There’s a romance to taking that chance.  It doesn’t always work out.  It didn’t for me for almost ten years.  It took the added propulsion of marriage to help me escape DeKalb’s gravity, and when I did, I still didn’t get any closer to Los Angeles.

If you’ve never heard the song before–and that’s probably, since my core readership is mostly pre-teen boys and Cambodian immigrants–click on the player above and give it a whirl.  If you haven’t heard it in a while, treat yourself to a listen and enjoy that sweet, soul music.  The drive back “home” is twenty-something hours long.  Count on me playing this song at least five times along the way.

Everything I Know About Responsibility and Relationships I Learned from Cartoons – Part 3

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Previously on Why I Cry…

  • The Reagan era was awesome if you were white and didn’t pay taxes.
  • I was and didn’t.
  • (Still am and don’t.)
  • The Transformers taught me five essential lessons: 1) listen to people smarter than you; 2) temper ambition with discretion; 3) don’t “guestimate” with explosives; 4) do good for goodness’ sake; 5) “peace-loving” does not mean pacifist, and even self-centered cowards can surprise you by sabotaging an interstellar shuttle.
  • Screenshots taken out of context can teach a whole other message.

"Don't make it weird!"

What did I learn from G.I. Joe and what did I not learn?  Find out in today’s stunning conclusion to Everything I Know About Responsibility and Relationships I Learned from Cartoons!

Part 3: Knowing is Half the Battle

As important as Transformers was to my childhood, that franchise doesn’t hold a candle to what G.I. Joe meant to me.  Transformers lived for me in two great years of after-school cartoons, but once Optimus Prime and most of the original cast was killed off during the seminal 1985 movie, I lost interest.  Even the toys, for as novel and inventive as they were, never held my interest for very long: the truth was I didn’t enjoy playing with the toys because their sizes were so random and disproportionate, and most of them had poor articulation and immovable legs.

G.I. Joe: A Real American Hero, on the other hand, captured my heart at its inception in 1982 and held it fast until, about, six minutes ago.  The cartoons made by Sunbow Productions were thrilling, action-packed military sci-fi adventure against a despicably greedy and incestuous terror group that resonated oh-so-pointedly during the Cold War 80′s.  Marvel Comics produced a G.I. Joe series for 155 issues that ranks among the greatest continuing sagas ever printed.  But the cartoon and the comics were all in service and support of the greatest action figure franchise ever.  The 3.75-inch G.I. Joe and Cobra figures that came out in the 80′s were of a type of cool you can only measure in Samuel L. Jackson terms.

This picture's worth 9,000 Sam Jacksons!

I could devote twenty blog posts to my memories playing G.I. Joe as a kid, or just one that’s fairly good, and I probably will sometime.  For now, though, I want to focus on a specific aspect of the cartoon.  If you’re familiar with the show or you’ve ever seen an episode of Family Guy–which, if I understand correctly, is basically the same premise as G.I. Joe–you know the response to the phrase “Now I Know”.

At the end of each episode, G.I. Joe provided an animated Public Service Announcement featuring one of the cast and a handful of unsupervised, lethally ignorant children.  Each PSA conveyed a message designed to keep kids safe long enough that they could reach puberty and reproduce so Hasbro could sell yet more toys to younger generations.  And, of course, each PSA ended with a boy or girl (usually boy) saying, “Now I know,” to which the battle-hardened Tier-1 Special Forces soldier who has probably killed a hundred men in secret wars you’ve never heard of smiles and says, “And knowing is half the battle.”

Before I get into how thoroughly uninformative that catch phrase is, let’s check out a few of these PSA’s and discern exactly what message Hasbro and Sunbow Productions were passing along to my generation.

First, let’s all take a moment to thank YouTube for its laughable disregard for copyrighted material.  Second, this is a pretty straightforward lesson for kids: if there’s a fire, get your ass out!  It takes time and oxygen to dial 911 and fire takes away both of ‘em.  Lesson learned, guys.  Good job, Joes!

But wait a second!  Who’s this strange Irishman coming to these boys’ rescue?  When did Tom Cruise’s character from Far and Away join the Army?  Of course, if you’re a G.I. Joe fan or collector you know that character is Blowtorch, the team’s flame thrower specialist.

Yep, you read that right: the team’s flame thrower specialist… just happens to show up at a burning building.  Nothing odd about that.  Nothing at all.

Also, kudos to the kid in the baseball hat for having the presence of mind to make the smart-ass comment, “She’ll know you’re cooking now!”  Heh.  Little s*** reminds me of myself.

Medicine should only be taken under the strict supervision of your parent or a responsible adult.  (Note: The guy by the bus stop that teenagers call “Chester the Molester” does NOT qualify.  Don’t take anything he gives you!)  That’s a sensible lesson for kids; it certainly kept me from overdosing until I was 23.  Thanks, Doc!

Hang on, though… You’re a doctor, right?  What are you doing outside our bathroom window?  Have you been just lurking outside watching us all morning and finally decided to intervene when you saw us about to kill ourselves?  Or were you in the process of coming in through the window for some reason?

I don’t mean to sound any more racist than I normally am, but when I was nine years old if I went to use the bathroom and saw a grown black man wearing sunglasses just standing at the window, I think I’d be fine with the police shooting him.

I guess swimming in lakes is something people do.  I always avoided it because this PSA scared the crap out of me.  Lightning striking while I’m trapped in a big body of water with no place to go–Jesus, that’s terrifying!  About as terrifying, in fact, as the sight of a strange man in a giant mecha-suit with a bubble over his head rising silently out of the water directly behind you!  That same scene appeared in every movie Ed Wood ever made!

I was always a little fascinated by Deep Six.  He never got much love because unfortunately his toy sucked.

Alas, this figure only merits two Sam Jacksons.

But the character himself was always a little… off.  He was anti-social, had a very stunted way of speaking, and he had some strange sensory issues.  I’m pretty sure Deep Six was the first fictional character I ever met who would be diagnosed with Asperger’s syndrome or some form of autism, and that makes him a lot more interesting as a member of this super elite military force.

But it doesn’t explain what he was doing underwater near those two boys.

Here I go racial profiling again, but if I was confronted by a total stranger driving a classy late-model sedan and a ginormous black man with hand grenades and hunting knives attached to his camouflage wife-beater tank top, and he’s named Roadblock, a name you could only acquire in a Tom Clancy role playing game or in the exercise yard at prison… I gotta tell you, folks, I might take my chances in the car.

Without these helpful Public Service Announcements at the end of every episode, I totally would have run away from home or suffocated in an refrigerator, like, thirty times before I even got to seventh grade.  The lessons were simple and direct; they preached honesty, personal accountability, and tolerance of those who are different.  Plus, they were sponsored by my childhood heroes.

"Don't make it weird!"

But as helpful as G.I. Joe: A Real American Hero was for teaching kids fairness, safety and responsibility, they made us woefully inadequate for actual duty as soldiers.

Yes, knowing is critical to battle.  You don’t need cartoons to tell you that; you can read it in Sun Tzu’s The Art of War (which is another thing I plan to share with my children when they reach kindergarten age).  Wars are won and lost through intelligence–not brain power, I’m talking about Intelligence–facts, information, stuff James Bond does.

But you know what the other half of the battle is?  Actual battle.  And a cartoon where everybody shoots laser rifles that never hit anybody is about as useful for combat survival as playing Guitar Hero is for getting you a gig opening for The White Stripes.

So that’s all that I learned and didn’t learn from my favorite 80′s cartoons.  I think it’s essential that these lessons not be wasted on my generation as so many other great things were (the economy, college rock, Harrison Ford, etc.).  As I stated in my introduction to Part 1, the silent terror afflicting children in supportive, two parent families is the ever-increasing influence of bad television and the inter-webs.  We must condition our kids to learn from good television, the kind we grew up on, so that we can do our own thing like play Fantasy Football and read homo-erotic fan-fiction.

I’m committed to this plan.  It’s why I’ve done my level best to avoid anything resembling a career.  (For the children, really.)  Join me in this endeavor and give your kids the gift of 1980′s cartoons.  It begins with us.

This is a teachable moment right here.

Back to Part 1

Back to Part 2

Everything I Know About Responsibility and Relationships I Learned from Cartoons – Part 2

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Last time on Why I Cry…

  • I intend to raise my as-yet-unconceived children on the principles taught to me by The Transformers and G.I. Joe.
  • The 1980′s saw a flood of kids cartoons based on toy properties that could only be described as biblical.
  • I mean the flood was of biblical proportions.  The toys weren’t based on the bible.  Although…
  • Michael Bay and Japanese animators are working through some deeply troubling psychological issues

What did I learn from the Autobots and Decepticons?  Find out in today’s thrilling continuation of Everything I Know About Responsibility and Relationships I Learned from Cartoons!

Part 2: More Than Meets the Eye

In 1984, Hasbro “acquired” the rights to several different insane Japanese toys that could change from robot warriors to everyday objects that children might play with… like guns, for example.

Which one was supposed to be more threatening? The kill-crazy evil robot or the real-sized pistol that could get you shot by the NYPD?

Hasbro took the transformable action figures and did what Japan didn’t bother with–what Japan has never, ever bothered with:  making sense of them.  In partnership with writers at Marvel Comics, Hasbro split the first 40-or-so Transformers into two factions, the heroic Autobots and the evil Decepticons.  This unprecedented marketing decision created a narrative for how kids would play with their toys, and influence how they collected them.

To help launch the American distribution of Transformers, Marvel released a four-issue comic miniseries that turned into an 80-issue series because of the franchise’s popularity and strong sales, and Sunbow Productions released the three-part pilot to the animated series which would run for four years.

For kids like me who grew up with two loving parents and an older sibling, it was necessary to find role models on television.  What the Transformers cartoon and comic book did was clearly delineate the characteristics of “good guys” and “bad guys”, providing us with a framework for what was acceptable behavior in real life.

Adorable and educational: They're edudorable!!!

Someone at YouTube has generously (and not at all criminally, I wouldn’t think) uploaded the entire three-part pilot, “More Than Meets the Eye” for your viewing pleasure and for my handy reference.  Right away in the show’s opening monologue (at the 0:50 mark), we are told that the Autobots are “peace-loving” and good, while the Decepticons are war-like and “brutal”.  Throughout the show, the behaviors of each faction reinforce characteristics that I and other kids would associate with good and evil.  The Decepticons are treacherous and openly hostile to people, including each other.  Those were behaviors I should avoid doing.  The Autobots were selfless, sacrificing their priorities for the good of all; they cleaned up their messes, they didn’t take the easy way out, and they admitted their own limitations and accepted help from others.  These were behaviors I should emulate, and now, nearly three decades later, pass on to future generations.

Five Life Lessons the Transformers Taught Me

1. Follow Directions Exactly  -  As grown ups, we often have to reconcile directives from our superiors with what our moral compass will allow, or with what we merely think is quickest and easiest.  This is a stage of social and moral development we come to much later in life.  For kids, it’s healthy and safe to teach them to respect the words and wishes of people in authority.

In the second part of the episode 1, we see the consequences of characters disobeying orders and acting on their own compulsions.  In this segment, at about the 1:40 point, Starscream starts shooting haphazardly at the mountain in which the Autobots’ ship had crashed, deactivating all of them.  Megatron tells Starscream to save his energy and stop shooting randomly.  Because he hates Megatron, and because he loves random acts of violence and destruction, Starscream ignores the Decepticon leader and continues shooting at the mountain.

What happens?  The concussive impact from his lasers triggers a tremor that inadvertently wakes up Optimus Prime and the other Autobots, putting them back in position to oppose Starscream and the other bad guys.  At this point, the Decepticons had won; they could have taken over Earth and enslaved humanity with nobody to stop them.  But by ignoring his master’s order, Starscream woke and empowered his enemies, making his whole life a lot more difficult.

Decepticons aren’t the only ones capable of this kind of boneheaded mistake, though.  At around the 3:13 point, Optimus Prime sends Hound to scout this new planet Earth they’ve crashed on and see if he can pick up the Decepticons’ trail.  Itching for a fight to sate his obvious Napoleon Complex, Cliffjumper volunteers to join Hound.  ”Just find them,” Prime says, warningly.  ”We’ll deal with them later.”

By the 4:40 mark, Hound and Cliffjumper have found the Decepticons and listened in on their plans–exactly as Prime ordered them to do.  Then, not at all as Prime ordered them, Cliffjumper pulls out a big honkin’ gun.

"You said we'd deal with them LATER. That was like two minutes ago. You expect me to wait LONGER?"

Cliffjumper fires on the Decepticons, revealing their position and forcing himself and Hound to retreat quickly under fire.  At the 6:20 point, Laserbeak shoots Hound, sending him crashing into a ravine.  Hound survives, but Cliffjumper and the viewer learn an important lesson about not deviating from orders.  This time, Cliffjumper didn’t suffer for his insubordination; his friend did.  Real tragic consequences are when somebody else gets hurt because of your stupid actions.

2. Don’t Announce Your Coup D’état to the Person You’re Overthrowing  -  The Bard tells us “discretion in the better part of valor.”  This is a lesson that Starscream never learned, apparently, because he tells every one of the Decepticons that he plans to replace Megatron as their leader.  And by telling every one, I mean he tells Megatron, too (5:25 in this segment).

He tells Soundwave and Rumble they’ll be following his orders some day, to which they just scoff (3:40)  That’s usually a good sign, when your future underlings don’t respect you enough to pretend they like your chances of becoming boss someday.

"When I'm in charge they'll call me Starscream MacKillseverything!"

Starscream spends the majority of the show complaining about Megatron’s leadership and boasting how much better he would be.  And this is how that plays out.  From his treacherous behavior, we learn that ambition is only constructive when mixed with a healthy dollop of caution, and we also learn that the chief obstacle that bad guys always face is their inability to cooperate with others.

3. Always Be Punctual  -  At the end of the second part of the miniseries (8:00 mark in this segment), the Autobots’ mad scientist Wheeljack gives Sparkplug and Bumblee a bomb to trap the Decepticons under a mountain.  They have sixty seconds to plant the bomb and escape, but plans go awry and the bomb detonates with several Autobots trapped as well.

Thankfully, everyone survives pretty much unscathed in the third part (2:15) and Sparkplug observes how precise he thinks Wheeljack’s bomb was set for.

Sparkplug: “Wheeljack wasn’t kidding when he said it would blow in sixty seconds.”

Wheeljack: “Fifty-nine point ninety-nine to be exact.”

Two lessons: First, WTF, Wheeljack?  You’re not microwaving a burrito; it’s a bomb!  You can’t round up your numbers!  Second, it’s crucial to always be on time.  In fact, it’s a good idea to always be early for things.  Your chances of getting trapped in an exploding mine shaft diminish pretty quickly.

4. Try to Leave Things Better Than When You Arrived  -  Perhaps the clearest demonstration of the Autobots’ nobility is that they fight the Decepticons not out of obligation but out of ability.

Yes, the Decepticons arrived on Earth in the Autobots’ crashed ship, but no one would say Optimus Prime and his crew are responsible for bringing the ‘Cons here, and they’re certainly not culpable for any destruction the ‘Cons do once they get here.  The easiest thing for the Autobots is to go back to their home planet and leave the Decepticons stranded on Earth.  That’s what a few of them propose in part 2 (3:00).

Mirage: “Maybe we should repair our ship and go back to Cybertron. Forget about the Decpticons.”

Prime: “We can’t do that, Mirage. If Megatron succeeds here, he’ll be impossible to defeat on Cybertron.”

Huffer: “But we’re not fighters like they are, Prime!”

Prime: “We must have courage, Huffer.  We can’t ignore the danger–we must conquer it.”

Optimus Prime chooses to defend Earth because the Autobots are the only ones who can, and I learned that if it’s within my means to fix a problem, I should do it because it’s right.  I can’t avoid confrontation; I must deal with it head on.

5. A Hero Isn’t Always Who You Expect  -  Optimus Prime is the greatest Autobot.  He’s the oldest, wisest, biggest, strongest.  His fearlessness in battle is surpassed only by his compassion for his compatriots.  If anyone can stop Megatron and the Decepticons in the end, it’s Optimus Prime.

Except that’s not what happens.  Optimus Prime fails at the end of “More Than Meets the Eye” (5:15 and 6:10).  The Decepticons blast off in their shuttle with the energon they need to conquer Cybertron and the universe, and all Prime can do is watch, distraught from the ground.

So who saves the day (7:00)?  Mirage, one of the seventeen other Autobot soldiers.  And what’s more profound to a young kid watching the episode is remembering that earlier Mirage wanted to write off Earth and go home.  He could have done just that.  He had snuck aboard the Decepticon ship, but when the time came, he sabotaged their victory and escaped even at the cost of his dream.  We learn that people can change if given the the opportunity.  We learn that desperate situations can occasionally bring out the best in people.  And we learn that anyone can make a difference.

"Don't make it weird!"

Those are the lessons I want to pass on to my children, not like those horribly unhelpful “Knowing is Half the Battle” PSA’s at the end of every episode of G.I. Joe, which I’ll be discussing in the third and final installment of this feature.

To Be Concluded in Part 3

Back to Part 1

Everything I Know About Responsibility and Relationships I Learned from Cartoons – Part 1

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Years ago, I joined the camp of snobby, elite minds who bemoaned the trending two-parent household system where each parent works a full time job and has no time to raise the children in the traditional “nuclear family” style.  I decried TV and Internet use amongst younger age groups for contributing to downward spiraling academic scores across the nation, and I vowed I would never let my kids be raised by the television.

I did all this, by the way, at a time when I had neither the time nor the inclination (nor the means, if we’re being candid) to have children of my own.

Now, however, the notion of having kids is kind of appealing to me.  The only obstacle is convincing my wife to mentally separate the concept of pregnancy from carrying a parasitic entity in her uterus for nine months.  (Seriously, you guys, there’s so much warmth in her.)  But if she keeps drinking spumante like she has been lately, I could have a son or the other kind that’s not a son by this time next year.

And that got me thinking that I don’t really mind my kids growing up in front of the television, since it would give me a lot more free time for the same; I just don’t want them raised on today’s television.  I want them raised on the shows I watched as a kid, the cartoons that taught me valuable lessons in civics and morality.

Thus I announce my plan to raise my kids via the wisdom of Optimus Prime and his noble Autobots.

I’m talking about the Optimus Prime from the classic animated series of the 80′s, not the recent big screen movies.  The only things my kids could learn from the Optimus of Transformers: Dark of the Moon is how to let hundreds of thousands of Chicagoans die just to prove a point and how to psychotically execute your enemy when he’s already helpless and defeated.

Courtesy of Sunbow Productions. This is a role model for children.

Courtesy of DreamWorks Pictures. This is the revenge fantasy of a director who used to get tormented by the cheerleaders in high school.

Part 1: Historical Context

For the first thirty or forty years of television’s existence, the Federal Communications Commission (which is a real thing, FYI), had strict regulations for the content and format of advertising aimed at children.  That changed significantly in the 1980s during the reign of President Ronald “Dutch” Reagan the First.  Reagan, a friend to all sorts of entrepreneurial enterprises (“You’re welcome, crack lovers!”), appointed Mark “The Deregulator” Fowler to chair the FCC.  Fowler opened expansive loopholes in the regulations which allowed toy companies like Hasbro and Mattel to market their product lines in the form of full-length syndicated television series.

Faster than you can say, “Thunder! Thunder! Thundercats! HO!”, an epidemic of cartoons started popping up not just on Saturday mornings, but during the prime real estate hours before and after most kids went to school.  Television became an insatiable whore for toy companies to show off their goodies.  A generation of impressionable kids turned into hapless and horny Johns.  Toy and department stores became seedy brothels and cheap motels, while our parents became at once the escort service employed by A Pimp Named Hasbro, as well as the free clinic taxed with treating the recurring outbreak of herpes and crabs in the form of action figures.

(Who didn’t love that analogy?!?!)

The changes Fowler implemented for children’s programming and advertising altered the landscape of television more dramatically than any other event, at least until the influx of unscripted “Reality” television in the 21st century.  According to some sources I won’t bother citing because I’m making it up, the number of animated series based on licensed properties increased 300% between 1982 and 1992.

The list includes, but is in no way limited to:

There are more, many more, besides these.  Looking at these cartoons and their opening themes/titles, it’s clear that something is very, very off about Japan.  But also, the shows were produced with very strictly defined premises and easily identified heroes and villains that children would find reassuring and identifiable.

Also scuba masks!

Of course, everyone from my generation knows, the heavy hitters from this era–the Albert Pujols and Prince Fielder, if you will–were G.I. Joe and The Transformers.

To Be Continued in Part 2 

Skip to Part 3

This Post Contains Adult Language and Links to Sideboob: Reader Discretion is Advised

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My friend and sometime-legal counsel Omar directed me to a recent EW piece spotlighting the stars of ABC’s one-time Emmy powerhouse police drama NYPD Blue reuniting for a reunion photo shoot.  Omar knew that for about six years ‘Blue’ was my favorite TV show.  I was a devoted fan from the first episode, which premiered in 1992 when I was all of ten or eleven years old in 1993 just before my twelfth birthday.  (Omar, always protecting me from myself, was considerate enough to politely correct my timeline on this.)

In fact, I was a devoted fan before the episode even began, because the show opened with the disclaimer:

This police drama contains adult language and partial nudity.  Viewer discretion advised.

Did you catch the part about adult language and partial nudity?  Now recall how I mentioned I was ten twelve years old.  I didn’t have to steal glimpses of porn cassettes at the video store, or flip through old copies of adult magazines in my friend’s closet, or ruin my copy of The Terminator rewinding and fast-forwarding to the sex scene.  I didn’t have to because sex and dirty words and violence came to me on Channel 7 every Tuesday night at 9:00.  This controversially mature-for-its-time television show blew my little monkey mind.  In ’92 this show and its themes were groundbreaking!  Critics called it a bold, daring step in programming, while family groups organized boycotts and protests.  Today the most extreme scenes from NYPD Blue would be considered tame by prime time standards.  In ’92, Andy Sipowicz calling somebody an asshole was revolutionary.  Today, ‘asshole’ is what cable news anchors call each other.  In ’92, the show’s policy to alow on-air images of butts and every part of the breast except the nipple was shocking.  Today, we call this everywhere you look all the time.  And on top of the language and sexuality that permeated the series, it was just damn good, anchored by an incredibly talented cast and driven by the eventual creator of HBO’s Deadwood.

But this post is not a review of the show.  I only offer the above reflection as context for what I wanted to write about, which is Van Halen.

No, seriously.

Seeing the ‘Blue’ stars aligned literally and figuratively in that EW photo reminded me of a conversation I had with Omar years ago.  I don’t remember which of us proposed the analogy that the show’s revolving cast of lead actors playing opposite mainstay Dennis Franz strangely mirrored the turnover in Van Halen lead singers, I only remember that one of us suggested it and the other instantly derided it as absurd while secretly admitting it wasn’t all that preposterous.  That’s how most conversations with Omar went.

The actors on NYPD Blue parallel the singers for Van Halen.  Stay with me.  David Caruso is David Lee Roth.  Jimmy Smits is Sammy Hagar.  Rick Schroder is the guy who replaced Sammy Hagar.  And Mark Paul Gosselaar is “is Van Halen even still a band? Didn’t one of them die?“

When NYPD Blue first aired, David Caruso was the hottest thing on television.  He was like all the male stars of Mad Men, Lost and True Blood fused together with a dash of red hair and Irish Catholic Guilt.  (Let that image settle in, ladies, because I could just as easily be describing myself.)  Unfortunately, Caruso’s shock of red hair couldn’t cover the man’s ego, which grew so disproportionately large and all-consuming that it ruined his working and personal relationship with everyone on the show and landed him in Hollywood Purgatory for ten years.  Today you might recognize Caruso from CSI: Miami, where plays the exact same character he played on ‘Blue’ only now he wears sunglasses, presumably to protect fans and reporters from the rage-fire constantly shooting from his eyes.

In 1985, the hottest thing in rock music was Van Halen’s front man David Lee Roth, a man who oozed sex, and not just metaphorically.  I know that cocaine explains a lot about the 1980s, but I don’t know if there’s a sufficient quantity of blow in the world that can justify what people found attractive in that decade.  If you look at Roth’s eyes when he smiles, you can see the fiery hunger of a cannibal serial killer looking back at you, and that, coupled with his insufferable personality led him to split from Van Halen at the peak of their popularity.  The hottest singer breaking from the hottest band, just as the hottest actor departed the hottest TV show.

Walking erection.

Walking dick.

‘Blue’s producers pulled off a stunning coup with Caruso’s replacement.  Many thought the red-headed firebrand’s premature exit would be the show’s untimely death knell.  Instead, it ushered in five years of awesomeness starring Jimmy Smits.  Smits you should remember from the third season of Dexter (if you know what’s good for you), but other readers might recognize him from the Star Wars prequels where he played the guy way, way too talented to be stuck in a Star Wars prequel.  David Caruso made NYPD Blue the hottest show on TV.  Jimmy Smits made it the coolest.

I'm turning gay looking in his eyes

And I'm straight again.

After Van Halen split with David Lee Roth, they brought on Sammy Hagar to replace him.  Like Smits, Hagar came into the group at the optimum time, bringing Van Halen even greater commercial success with hit songs like “Right Now” and that other one.  Smits and Hagar each brought history, an established fanbase, and a seductive kind of ethnic sexiness.  Smits is an Hispanic icon; Hagar thinks he is.

Jimmy Smits left ‘Blue’ during its sixth (and last great) season, written out with an emotionally stripping, soul-punching, tear-jerking death that–I kid you not–took five episodes.  I’ve watched his final episode maybe seven times and after every one I find myself walking the street sobbing and offering all of my clothes and money to total strangers.  The show runners didn’t really stand a chance of replacing Smits, and neither did Van Halen when Sammy Hagar eventually left.

Hi, I'm Rick Schroder

‘Blue’ tried lowballing viewer expectations by casting former child prostitute star Rick Schroder.  If you know who that is you probably remember him from his guest stint on Scrubs where he played a pink-clad male nurse, a role every bit as sexually confused and awkward as his character on NYPD Blue.

Meanwhile, Van Halen replaced Sammy Hagar with David Lee Roth again.  For six minutes.  They announced the reunion at one of MTV’s awards shows, but Roth did it in such an obnoxious and shame-inducing fashion (Thank you, Cocaine!) that the band fired him before they left the ceremony.  After that, Van Halen signed on a guy named Gary Sherome.  Look him up, ‘cuz I didn’t.

I think I had that shirt.

After Schroder’s character died (maybe?), ‘Blue’ cast as wildly against-type as they could with Mark Paul Gosselaar, who you’ll remember from Saved By the Bell and nothing else.

It’s impossible to think about Saved By the Bell without remembering this scene, so I’ll link it for your convenience.  In case you’re not sure, Gosselaar is the one in the video NOT killing his future in film and television.

What did Van Halen do after what’s his name?  I honestly stopped caring.  I honestly don’t remember when this post began.  When I said I wasn’t going to review NYPD Blue, what I meant was I was going to talk about it at length to solidify a possibly-valid but wholly-unimportant comparison between one of my favorite television shows and a guilty pleasure rock band from my youth.  But if we follow this comparison all the way, the show’s twelve-year veteran star Dennis Franz is to ‘Blue’ what Eddie Van Halen is to his band.

It's like they were separated at birth.

So if you’ve come to the end of this post and have no idea why I wrote it, why I spent three hours on it, much of that time trying to format and line up the stupid pictures, well, you can thank my friend Omar.  And cocaine.