Sunday, April 30, 2017

Bullet eating

The following story happened a while ago....

At work today a woman from Slovakia came up to me, noticed my haircut and said. "I like your hair cut."

"Thanks." I said in return. 

"It looks a lot better than last week." She said in a matter of fact way.

"What?" I was totally embarrassed because of what she said and how loudly she said it. And of course this being a Library and Libraries are nice and quiet, like the visitation room of a funeral home, but without the casket and the weeping relatives with the bad perfume and the nagging over who got the cheapest flowers. Anyways, everyone heard it.

"How do mean?" me, jumbling out my question all red in the face. My brain screaming "NOW WHY DON'T PEOPLE TELL ME THIS BEFOREHAND!!??" 

The Slovakian woman whose name is Monika, continued. "It looked terrible like this movie I saw last week from back in the thirties." She ran her fingers in front of her forehead in an archfashion. "It was Whoop, Whoop. The front of your hair was like that. All wavey. Ah! It looked terrible. It looks much better short like you have it now."

As she explained to me why she hated my past hairstyle and liked the new one. All I could think of was,"Hmmm she sounds alot like Dexter from Dexter's Laboratory." but then also I kept thinking about, just exactly how long did I look this crappy, and why didn't anyone else tell me about it.

So she comes back up and tells more about how this city we live in is a Baptist nest of snakes, and that she really likes my hair now. Now I feel so crappy about a day last week, that I want to just get under my desk and stay there. 

I let her have her internet copies for free since she was honest. And lost of times, honesty hurts worse than anything. 
Honesty is like a good sucker punch in the sparring session called life. It's good to get the wind knocked out of you when you don't see it coming.

I am all about humbling. 



Saturday, April 29, 2017

You too can be a dissociative.


Saturday night.
Windows in the house open letting the cool spring air in. Hunkered down at a table covered in ashtrays,empty soda bottles,candy wrappers and half eaten food. 
Not a care in the world. Your sides sting slightly from laughter. 

The tv is playing some horrible obscure movie from the 80's...it's on mute. In the background behind the talking is some swedish bubble gum pop band singing about simple formalities. Now and again you hear faint breathless whispers of it, causing someone to pipe up and say, "what are we listening to?"
Role playing games until 6am.
I miss geeks. I miss being one. 
I miss bedhead and clothes you've worn for three days straight. I miss not caring. ....

I miss a lot of things. 

But on a different subject, I miss being able to go into my own little world for days at a time. I miss pretending to be something that I am not. I miss not being worried about mirrors. I didn't care who I was. I didn't need reassurance of my reflection, because I wasn't what I saw. 
I wasn't anything near that. 
I was something else. And I could stay that way for as long as I wanted. 


I hate longing for things.

Wednesday, April 26, 2017

David Byrne's hand

Oh! The dreams I've been having!

 So detailed, it's almost as if it's actually happening. I had a dream last night that I saw David Byrne play in a Japanese Restaurant, he had a new band and a new lineup, but suddenly announced his retirement from music and sealed that contract by cutting off his left hand.

Later on in the dream I walked up to where he was setting and I started talking to him. I told him about how in fourth grade I saw Stop Making Sense and ever since then, I looked up to him as a kind of role model. It was he who shaped my young artistic mind into what it is now. I told him how my friends tell me that I dance like him, especially when I am roller skating. (I was told that it looks like I am doing the involuntary David Byrne dance.)

He laughed really hard and did a little dance, tossing about his messy gray hair. He gave me a shiny red paper bag and in it was his left hand, a table napkin, 200.00 dollars in U.S. Currency and Three grand in Casino chips. Later on I found out that he really didn't cut off his left hand, which lead to the question...
Whose hand did I have?

Tuesday, April 25, 2017

Run with us.

On August 4th, 2016 I got up the guts to send a letter to a band that I found out about called, "The Cybertronic Spree". A rock band for the most part, that plays songs from the soundtrack of  "The Transformers: The Movie" that came out in 1986.

The band is composed of, Hotrod who plays bass and vocals, Arcee who plays the keyboard and vocals, Spike on guitar and backing vocals, Rumble on drums of course, Quintesson on keyboards and backing vocals,and Unicron on lead guitar, with dance accompaniment by Soundwave and Bumblebee. They bring a vibrancy and life to the songs, and a sense of nostalgia that is just inspiring. I highly recommend their youtube channel, that I will be putting a link down below.  But for now, on with the letter that I wrote to them. You might find it corny but it's very sincere and pure. So, here ya go. 

Hello Autobots, and Decepticons!

I ran across your youtube channel and your spectacular version of “You got the touch.” which I found to be just incredible! Your costumes, the talent, the cohesion that you all have as the band, “The Cybertronic Spree” is just a jaw dropping thing that you don’t hear or see anymore with the bands of  today. But, when hearing your amazing cover of Lisa Lougheed’s “Run with us” from the Raccoons cartoon. That song just took a crowbar to an old deserted, cobwebbed, boarded up area of my mind and opened it wide.

Boom! I was a kid again, smiling so hard I was crying.


There were emotions still trapped in there from when I was young. That young part of me hadn’t aged and discovering him hidden back in the furthest part of my mind made me cry. So then I went back and tracked down the Raccoons cartoon and remembered watching it, and making my sisters watch it too.

 It came on First Choice, this Canadian satellite channel, and I would record it for future re-viewing. Those times were the best times for me. But not as a kid though. My family was getting divorced, my aunt died, I had a nervous breakdown at the age of 12 and lived with my grandparents to be away from my father. I lived in my own world and watching cartoons like The Raccoons, Transformers, Starchaser the legend of Orin, Rock and Rule, those shows were my outlet.

As an adult, I still love cartoons and continue to watch them. But there was something though about The Raccoons and that song “Run with us.” I used to wish I could run away with them. Upon rediscovering all of this, even at my age now, I get chills hearing Arcee singing it and really belting it out there. You can see the crowd just eating it all up!
I know that I will probably never make up to Toronto or the surrounding area to see you play live,  but at least I get to see you guys perform on youtube and that makes me smile like a kid. You guys have gift and it’s not very common nowadays.

I am sorry for making this so long. So I’ll just say thank you for making me feel like a kid again and thank you for giving him back to me.
And for that, I’ll be a fan of yours forever.


Tim.

They replied back a day later and said to me. 
"Tim! Thank you so much for this message. The band's goal is to spread happiness around the world and we are glad we could help you with that. Your message made us all smile. Even Unicron! Big hugs!"

To which I said, "Achievement unlocked: made Unicron smile.:)"

You can find them on the web at these links:

and on twitter @cybertronicband

Monday, April 24, 2017

Ian Mckellan at my office Christmas party?

Have you had one of those "in love" dreams?
You know the kind where you are practically swimming in the pupils of some pretty girl or some sort.
You wake feeling like you are in love or some emotion of equal or lesser value.

I didn't have one of those types of dreams last night, but a friendship type of dream I guess.

It started with me telling my co-workers "merry Christmas" and kissing them on the cheek. Some look taken back by the kiss and I felt bad for showing my affections. But as I moved down the line of people I started seeing my family in the line. So I felt better telling them "merry Christmas and kissing them on the cheek" It felt nice to get all those hugs from everyone. Here's where it gets weird.

But moving down the line I came across Viggo Mortensen, his hair was long and he had a beard. He looked like strider but strider wearing normal clothes of our era. I walked up to him and shook his hand. He smiled and then yanked me to him and hugged me hard with his other hand and whispered, "merry Christmas my friend." in my ear. I laughed at him and did the "oh, you!" face, and then moved down the line.


The next person to come across was logically none other than Sir Ian Mckellan sitting in a chair. His hair was as long as Viggo's but his beard was closely trimmed. When I approached him, he seemed surprised, like I stirred him from his thoughts. I looked up at me with wide eyes and I leaned in to tell him "merry Christmas"  but he caught me off guard and off balance by yanking me down to his chest and gave me a mighty hug and told me with peace in his voice, "Merry Christmas." Then I woke up.

The Ross Eliot review!

Ross Eliot is what you would call a triple threat. He’s a steely eyed tough guy that’s not afraid to get his hands dirty, he knows how to handle himself, and he could eviscerate you in a debate without ever laying a hand on you. He also has some fearsome chickens and a rather deadly cat as well. Ross also would make a very convincing War boy too, giant black truck would be at home in the Mad Max universe. It just needs some spikes or a 


Tell me a little bit about yourself please.

 Well, to sum myself up, I'm more or less exactly who I wanted to be when I was a kid. I grew up in a religious family with television very restricted and preferred books to people. My early favorites were The Odyssey and Beowulf and my literary role models were Thor Heyerdahl and Felix von Luckner. Yet I also loved the outdoors and always enjoyed building a tree house or running around in the wilds. My favorite stories were about people who went out and had adventures, traveled, discovered knowledge and fought for their values. Once I grew up, those remained my goals and I feel are more than adequately in progress at least.

Have you lived in Portland all your life? Were you born there?

I was born in Portland but was raised in Seattle, plus spent much time based out of Sitka while commercial fishing in the Gulf of Alaska. Other than that, despite traveling extensively, the only other place I've really lived was Berlin back in 2002. 

There are people out there that say they are a jack of all trades but I get the feeling that you are the real deal! Can you tell me what sent you out on that path? I mean writer, fisherman, roofer, plumber, dj, forklift operator. It is an impressive resume!

It's funny, at one of my jobs a few years ago, some co-workers made a game of trying to guess what professions I DIDN'T have experience in. Taxi driver was one winner; I've never driven a cab. But that's been much of my life pattern, always wanting to learn more, travel when possible and keep from getting stuck. There's been some close calls. I was part of the original amazon.com warehouse crew back in the mid 90s when they just had one building in south Seattle. If I'd kept with that outfit, the money might have become too good to leave and I'd still be there. I can grow that list of things I've been paid to do: dishwasher, auto mechanic, go-go dancer, public speaker, moving company owner, eldercare, delivery driver, groundskeeper, barista and telecommunications supervisor. Currently I'm working for a housing nonprofit doing electrical, plumbing, remodeling and all kinds of other facilities upkeep.

What was life like in Portland in the 90's? 

I didn't move back to Portland until 1998, when I was 22, so I missed much of the days people feel nostalgic about. Still, it was an amazing time. Wages were much lower than Seattle, but rent even more affordable. For example, I was able to work several months making terrible money at a particularly awful and dangerous forklift operating job, then quit and live off my savings for 6 months while sharing an apartment and taking community college classes full time. Credits were $12 each. There's hardly any way a kid could live in Portland now like I did then without a trust fund. All the people I knew worked just enough to pay 100 bucks or less rent in a shared house and spent the rest of their time starting bands, making zines, forming political collectives, art projects, or whatever folks felt like. Our housing crisis the last several years destroyed all that. 
Probably the biggest cultural shift is that Portland is loosing diversity. The NW in general has had an extra high White population for a long time, but as rents rise and rise, local peoples of color are the first forced out. For a while in 2003-4, I actually lived just off the intersection of Rosa Parks street and MLK Blvd, part of historic Black Portland. By the time I left, there was just one Black owned home left on the street. The 2nd biggest difference is all the facial hair. Around 2005, the Bay Area mustache craze moved north and expanded until now you can hardly order a drink without some software engineer who just relocated from LA accidentally dipping their lumberjack beard in your beer. The thing is, Portland in the 90s wasn't cool and that's what made it awesome. You didn't brag about being from here. That would be absurd. People could drop the social pretenses and just concentrate on being themselves and furthering their own passions. Want to be big shot? Move to New York or Chicago with that attitude, nobody cares here.

You have a very impressive collection of records, when did you start collecting? Did you get your love of music from your parents or a relative? 

I started buying records as a teenager. At the time, everyone thought vinyl was a dead format so records were crazy cheap. A CD cost 15 bucks, but for that money, I could pick up a couple LPs, a bunch of 12" singles and maybe a 7" 45 or two. It wasn't until late 1996 that the slow resurrection of wax began.
I got into music on my own as a teenager. This was pre-internet so it took a lot of work. Dave Voorhees, who owns Bop Street Records in Seattle, which still exists, became my guru. I'd come in asking about some subculture bands and he'd say, "I got that. But what about Throbbing Gristle? Have you tried Severed Heads?" Then you could just spin stuff until you found out what you liked. 

How long have you been writing Ross? 

I've been writing since before I could write. My mom kept stories that I would narrate to her as a child and she would jot them down or sometimes bind them up as presents for the grandparents. Actually, just recently, I came across a typed 2,000 word short story about astronauts visiting Mars that I wrote in 2nd grade. By the time I was in middle school, I'd already composed a 100 plus page manuscript that was intended to become a sci-fi epic. 
Most of my writing has been political. That got the most attention with my zine American Gun Culture Report which I edited and published from 2005-2010.

How long did it take for you to get your book, "Babette" published? 

That's complicated. I had some interest from publishers around 2012-13 as the manuscript was getting finished, but I felt reluctant to sign away my rights on a crappy contract. Therefore, I elected to just go through a local micro-publisher called Heliocentric Press in 2014 which allowed me to keep complete control but also meant I was on my own as far as promotion and so forth went. The title went on to receive good reviews, besides winning three international awards, which opened the door to getting an agent who represents me now. Because he is still in the process of negotiating a new publishing deal, the original version has been deleted and is no longer an available. I know some copies turn up on eBay and there might be a way people can find the digital copy as well, but in general, that first edition has been laid to rest. 

How long did writing "Babette" take for you? 

I started seriously working on it in 2010, after American Gun Culture Report became too problematic to keep up. Being gone fishing in the Pacific made it difficult to maintain a periodical, but I could work on a book just fine. However, it wasn't really finished, as I spent a couple weeks last year in Southern France researching some of the really bizarre parts of Babette's story and uncovered enough new information to comprise a significant afterward to the upcoming new edition.

You must have Matt Murdock's radar sense man! How on Earth did you get that awesome at parallel parking? Did driving a forklift give you an edge on the other drivers? 

My dad had an old '79 Volkswagen bus that I learned to drive manual with on the hills of Seattle. Once I figured that thing out, I could operate anything. Plus, after my auto industry careers, I've driven most every kind of vehicle so that gives me a pretty good instinct for how to park. I don't think the forklift background helps because the wheels are so different. Lift trucks have rear wheel steering, as opposed to front in cars.

Your lovely wife said most of your apparel is older than you and that she married a time traveler, Is it true? Are you a rivet head time lord? Also what era would you like to visit if you could travel through time? 

Thank you, my wife is indeed quite the beauty. I sometimes feel we are both time travelers in a way. As for myself, being a militant socialist, I take style advice from the early 20th century working class. I don't actually wear vintage, but possess significant patching and mending skills so whatever I have on is usually well worn, to say the least. If I could, I'd love to visit the late Miocene epoch of the Pacific Northwest so I could watch saber-toothed salmon head up river to spawn, those creatures got almost 10 feet long, that must have been amazing to witness.

When did you know that Rivethead Culture and Industrial music was your thing? Do you have a specific band that opened your skull up and showed you the way to this genre? 

I got into industrial music through metal as a teenager. One day a friend played me Ministry and it was a life changer. I never went back to metal and eventually started appreciating more electronic and experimental sides of the genre, not just the aggro-guitar projects. Besides Ministry, some early favorites were KMFDM, Cabaret Voltaire and Seattle locals, Kill Switch...Klick.

When did you start owning chickens? I just had to know this one. Got any funny stories about them?

I became obsessed with chickens in 2002 because the family I lived in Berlin with kept them. I found hens so delightful that I decided I wanted my own flock as soon as I had a house with a yard, so it's been almost ten years now. Chickens are weird. I once found about 20 eggs hidden under a bush where they'd been hiding them. If I could think of the most idyllic experience possible, it might be sitting in my backyard with decent weather, a good book, a delicious beer and just watch the hens go about their lives.

Thanks Ross for participating in this! 

No problem. 

You can follow Ross on instagram @rosseliot
 Check out his book at www.profellsworth.com 



 And read his blog at www.occupy2a/wordpress.com 

Sunday, April 23, 2017

The Levi Interview!

Levi Combs, in his own words, is a 42 year old father, husband, son, friend and brother. He’s a traveler, an outdoorsman, an artist, a beardo, a crappy movie lover, an Urbexer, a geek, an extremely struggling writer, a martial artist, an Odd fellow. He loves a damn fine cup of coffee and he don't take no lip from jive-talkin' turkeys.

Seriously though, he’s a guy you’d want to have in your corner if worse comes to worse.
So, let’s look into the ol’ noggin of Mr. Combs AKA  @americanmythyos on instagram.


Tell us about yourself. Where did you grow up? 

I grew up in a little town in the south called Mena, AR. In the 80s, Johnny Carson once referred to it as the poorest place in the United States. It's definitely one of the most racist places I've ever encountered. As an aside, the town looks like something out of a Jason Aaron story, but the countryside is gorgeous. 

I was an odd bird from the get go, but I eventually learned that if you make people laugh and you're not too much of a huge dick, they'll like you. 

Even though I'm a people person the majority of the time, I still struggle with being introverted on occasion. My wife and best friends don't buy it, but I promise you it's the TROOF! I find that it's fading away as I burn through middle age though, so I'm alright with it. 


You seem to love to travel. What got you into that? Where was the first place you traveled to and how old were you?

When I turned thirty, I realized that I'd really never been anywhere I really wanted to go and I'd really never done anything to be proud of, aside from being a father. A few months later I was out chasing down stuff I'd always wanted to see or do, but always told myself that I'd get to one day. The only difference between then and before was that I was actually doing it now. 

The first place I ever traveled to was Iceland, when I was a baby. Let's be honest though - that doesn't really count. These people who claim to be world travelers because their parents hauled them around with them when they were babies or little kids are just blowing smoke up their own asses. To be a traveler you need to get out into the world and fall in love with it. Make yourself a citizen of the world and get out and see it. Not just the touristy parts either. Go hang out with real people in real places. That sounds kinda douchey, but it's the truth. I'll trade 100 tiki bars on the beach for just 1 authentic experience abroad.

So, with that caveat, the first place I ever went to that got me out of my comfort zone was India. I was 35. I'd been to other countries before, but that was the first one that caught me off guard. That was the one where I started to become a traveler instead of a tourist. That was the beginning.


When was the first time you played a role playing game and what was it that you played? Did you have regular group that you played with? 

The first time I ever played an RPG was with a friend who got the old school red box Dungeons and Dragon set with the big dragon on the front. It wasn't very much fun and he wasn't a very good person to play it with, but the idea sunk in and I ended up playing RPGs for years. I remember there where some goblins or kobolds and an evil wizard. There might have been a carrion crawler in there too. Either way, I got killed by a skeleton. So goes the sad story of Fenwick the Elf!

Later on, I hooked up with a couple of brothers who's dad had played D&D in the military. Those games were my real entry into the hobby, in a sustained campaign. We played together for years. Those games really informed my whole outlook on the hobby. 

Now, I play it from time to time with my kid. He loves it and we have fun. I like watching him discover stuff the way I did back then. Hits me smack dab in my cold, black heart. 


You seem to be a jack of all trades kind of guy. what all have you had in your travels around america

Jobs? I wasted a lot of my 20s being a slacker and not pursuing things that I loved. It's a great regret of mine, but youth is wasted on the young. I worked crappy jobs. Whatever paid. Eventually I fell into the bar business and have literally done every job there is to do in that industry. I bartended for 13 years. Made a lot of friends, made some money and had some good times, and it helped me to travel and live comfortably enough to introduce my son to travel as well. Hopefully he'll grow up to be a citizen of the world as well, embrace new cultures and not think that the town he grew up in is the limit. 

These days I've slowed down, and work a more reasonable and realistic job (for a man in his 40s at least) here on a military base in Alaska. There's a future working for the government, and I like what I do more than the average person, I'd imagine. 


What would be your dream job? 

Paid to travel. Hands down. Move over Bourdain.


When did you fall in love with oddities and freakshow culture/artwork? 

Man, I have ALWAYS loved weird stuff. When I was a kid it was Famous Monsters of Filmland and Fangoria. Starlog. Piles and piles of comic books. Star Wars. Those weird Saturday morning cartoons that only real geeks remember, like Thundaar the Barbarian. The Science Fiction Book Club. 

As an adult, I've let some real gems slip through my fingers over the years. Stuff that I'd kill to have now. Collecting is a weird thing, you know? If you let it, that stuff can kind of own you, but if you're collecting because you want to surround yourself with things you find beautiful or that inspire you, then I feel like you have a leg up on those who are out there trying to make a buck. 

I always try and bring something strange home from when I travel, whether it's something small like a can of potted armadillo meat from a roadtrip to Austin, TX or a chip off of Marie LaVeau's grave in New Orleans to bigger stuff like a battered medical skeleton I found in a hidden closet in an abandoned children's asylum in Maryland. Friends bring me strange stuff too, like a mummified llama fetus from the Witch's Market in LaPaz, Bolivia or a bottle of snake wine containing a preserved cobra from Vietnam. Add that in with strange skulls, Ouija boards, weird puppets, bizarre taxidermy, bits of geological and natural curiosities and an eclectic collection starts to take place. 


Why do you love it so much? What's the attraction to you? 

Collections should reflect their owners. I'm a weird dude and I like weird shit.

You have collection of dvd/vhs movies that you lovingly refer to as your "Alamo Shit House" collection. Can you tell me where you got that name from and why? 

Hahaha, yeah. My best friend - Lawrence Hernandez - came up with that name. Obviously I could never use it in any commercial fashion, but it's a nice inside joke between friends.

I love bad movies - especially the ones that aren't trying to be bad - and I have even more live for the bad ones that think they are masterpieces. 

The movies in the Alamo Shithouse aren't just bad flicks. I lump cult films in there too, along with Grindhouse-era flicks, exploitation films, Kung fu flicks, monster movies, weird foreign films, Pinky Violence flicks, most non-blockbuster horror and sci-fi movies and just about any low budget or b-movie. The Texas Chainsaw Massacre is one of the greatest horror movies ever made, but it's also a classic Grindhouse flick, so it's right there in the Alamo Shithouse collection alongside Revenge of the Ninja, Lady Snowblood and Destroy All Monsters. 

What movies started your love for this genre? Do you have an all time favorite of the b-movie class? 

The cornerstone of my love for bad movies is what I call the "holy trifecta" - Troll 2, The Room and Samurai Cop.

My favorite? That's like asking me to choose between my children, but I've got a few that I watch over and over again, like the 36th Chamber of Shaolin, Killer Klowns from Outer Space, Superfly, the Beastmaster, Evil Dead 2 and They Live (which also happens to have the greatest quote in cinema history), not to mention the three I mentioned above. 


If you could start a dvd movie company like criterion or arrow that put out movies, what kind of special features your movies have? 

Oh man, I dunno. Better commentary tracks for sure. Some of them are just SO bad. You ever listen to a commentary track by Schwarzenegger? It's every bit as bad as you imagine it would be if you were literally writing a comedy skit about how bad Schwarzenneger's commentary track would be. 


Who got you into comic books? What was your favorite comic book when you were a child? What was the one comic that read over and over the most? 

I got into comics early on because my Dad would take me to the barber shop to get a haircut and we'd have to wait our turn. The barber had an old stack of 60s-era comic books - torn, coverless, dog-eared copies of World's Finest, Amazing Spider-Man, Superman's Pal Jimmy Olsen, Fantastic Four and so on. I'd look through those the entire time and when I was old enough to read, I'd read and re-read them every time we went in. 

I started actually collecting comics when I was a boy because my Mom would take me to the book store with her and if I was good, she'd buy me a comic book or two. The first one I can remember actually having for my own was the Marvel Comics Treasury edition of Star Wars, which was awesome because like every kid at the time, I was a huge fan. After that, I read every comic book I could get my hands on. 

The one comic I've probably read over and over the most is Mike Mignola's "Amazing Screw-On Head".  It's perfect. Literally. It's obvious it came from the heart and it shows on every page. He signed mine in Baltimore. No, you can't have it. 


Marvel, DC or both when you were a child? 

Both. No doubt. 


Any indy comic book faves? 

Oh, for sure. Mignola's "Hellboy". Miller's original "Sin City". Bagge's "Hate". "Milk and Cheese". The first 23 issues of "MAD". R. Crumb's stuff, of course. I could literally go on and on and on. There's literally hundreds.

Guilty comic book pleasures? 

"Lobo's Paramilitary Christmas Special". Anything with M.O.D.O.K. Or the Composite Superman in it. Garth Ennis' "The Pro" or "Adventures in the Rifle Brigade" (or whatever it was called). 


G.I. Joe. When did it start for you? Did you always collect them or was there a resurgence when you were older? If so what made you start collecting again? 

First Joe I ever got was Breaker. I got him because he was the communications guy, and my dad had been a Radioman in the Navy. 

Shortly after, I got a Snake Eyes for my birthday in 82', but his band was snapped and we took him back. I got Stalker instead, as there was not another Snake Eyes on the pegs.

After that, I traded a bunch of Star Wars dudes to some kids for most of the rest of the '82 line.

BUT.....!

When Destro hit the pegs at the local Ben Franklin, I lost my damn 9 year old mind. Who was this dude with armor on his head? Wrist rockets? Holy crap, it's the dude from the comic!

After that, it was ALL ABOUT THE VILLAINS. Major Bludd Mail Away. Hooded Cobra Commander Mail Away. Then Zartan!!! OH MY GOD! This dude changes colors!!!!

When I finally got my hands on Storm Shadow AND Firefly on the same day, it was magic. It was at the height of the "ninja craze". I had watched "House of Traps" and had been reading the comic, so I set about making a full on ninja base FULL of traps, trap doors and ninja stuff out of cardboard boxes, toothpicks, tinfoil, etc. It was glorious.


As an adult, I have a pretty sweet collection of vintage toys. I'm absolutely, 100% uninterested in anything that isn't vintage or that I didn't have as a kid. I don't care how beat up they are or if they're incomplete. Every once in a great while I'll pull Boba Fett or Cobra Commander or someone out and be reminded of being a carefree kid, then get inspired and go do something cool. Plus... pew pew!


Do you have a grail piece that you are looking for? Or have you already found it? 

I've found a few. I have an unopened Manglor Mountain from Ideal Toys that is one of my all time favorites. I've got a '77 Shogun Warriors era Godzilla that brings back some great memories. Would love to get a mint and complete Kraken from the short lived Clash of the Titans line. How sweet would that be?

If you were able to acquire any toy out there, no matter what the price, what would it be? 

Oh man, I have no idea. Does Luke Skywalker's original lightsaber prop count? Maybe Darth Vader's original helmet? It's only fair to my 4 year old self. 


Thanks so much for participating in this man! 


For sure man! Thanks!

Thursday, April 20, 2017

Designated Hitler

Something I made up                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            
Designated Hitler: When one of your friends says something so horribly wrong it just slams your mouth open in shock. They become the "Designated Hitler" The person that said the horrible thing has to goosestep wherever they go and talk with a german accent. They start off with just an hour but once you're Hitler, you tend to push the boundaries as far as the eye can see. So you end up talking like Hitler for four hours. Now that's torture. 

Especially when your german accent is terrible.

This was a little something that I made up...Well that and chaos pool.


more on that later. 

Tuesday, April 18, 2017

A retired Christopher Walken, talking on the phone to the fire chief, about getting his cat down out of his tree.

  A retired Christopher Walken, talking on the phone to the fire chief, about getting his cat down out of his tree.

Walken: (talking on the phone) Hello Gene… You don’t mind if I call you Gene do you? Oh, good. I think of you now more like an old war buddy than my friendly neighborhood fire chief.  I feel a certain closeness to you Gene, that I have never felt before with a fire chief. I mean I’ve never felt close to fire chief, not that I steer clear of them mind you. I just don’t know many.

Any who… Here’s my predicament. I’m sure you remember Boots. Heh, yeah. The little scamp. Always in trouble that little guy. (laughs awkwardly) listen Gene, he’s up my damn Japanese Adler again.  Like, really far up this time.  I threw my old tennis racquet trying to scare him down gene. He just…he just went further up. the little bastard. Half of my Ben Hogans are up in that damn tree cause of that son of a bitch. I am supposed to play 18 holes with Billy Murray on Tuesday and I need those clubs to get in some practice. Murray is a monster on the green. A real savage and I gotta get those clubs…yeah…and the boots too.

You’re gonna need the engine with the ladder this time. He’s gone so far up. So far.
Yeah. Like on the really bendy branches gene. I don’t know the scientific term for those branches…yeah. Oh, the crown, that’s what it’s called? Well, he’s on top of jewels of the crown. That’s how damn high up he is. I mean, I got dizzy just looking up there. It’s stupid scary Gene.  

If you use a loudspeaker to get his attention, you can’t yell thru it. You have to whisper. Yelling just pisses him off. Then you’ll have a pissed off cat up at the top of your Japanese adler. What? ….was that how He got up there? Well, I won’t go into the particulars with you Gene-o but yes, we had a heated discussion. There was a disagreement between the ungrateful prick and I over a Satsuma orange that he had to play with. It was the last orange in the house and he has to mess it up! It looked like a murder scene! If that Satsuma had folks to come over and see what that cat did to him. That fruit’s parents would die of shock, on site Gene! On site! And the kicker is that he didn’t even eat it. He just tore it to shreds like he does everything else in this damn house.

Look Gene, I got to go. My idiot of a gardener is trimming my rose bush with the bold cutters again. But please, like I said. Hurry. I need those damn golf clubs…yeah… yeah, and the cat too.
(hangs up)



Monday, April 17, 2017

Cobra Copter, and chill.



It's been too long since Cobra Copter has graced our ears with their sonic blessings.

Not to worry though. They haven’t lost their edge...not one bit.

If anything, they’ve branched out into the synthwave, retro wave spectrum. Venturing in the territory of chillwave with their latest work, “1987” a standalone gem if there has ever been one, full of all the stuff that we fans crave from them, and they’ve hit the main nostalgia vein with this one. You can almost see them strut away as the song ends.

Well played Cobra. Well played indeed

Never a reply and always waiting.

Late last year I reached out to someone that I haven't talked to in a very long time. I don't know why I did. I just felt like I needed to talk to him. He could be a very different person from when I knew him, but I wrote him a letter. I got a hold of his mother and she gave me his physical address and after a few false starts, I finally got a letter finished and sent it to him. I sent it to him in early feb of 2017. It's now mid April and I doubt I will be getting a letter back like I hoped. Hey, at least I wrote the letter and sent it to him. So, I thought I would be brave and post it on my blog for you all to read. Good or bad, here it is. I am just bummed he never wrote back. 




Brad,


Greetings sir, you probably don’t remember me, but that’s okay, it’s been 38 years since I have talked to you so I won’t be hurt if you don’t.   

My mother, Connie and my father Jim, lived next to your house back in the late 70’s. I am guessing maybe 78 or 79. I can’t be certain.  My mother worked in your Father’s grocery store back then, We lived next to the store, in a small home that doesn’t stand anymore. Anyway, my name is Tim. We played together back then. You invited me to go see Star Trek the motion picture but I was too afraid to go. (Anxiety rearing its ugly head already in my life. LOL)  

You are probably asking yourself, why is this guy contacting me after all this time. I guess in a nut shell I just wanted to say, thank you.

Now you are probably asking yourself, why is this guy saying thank you to me?
I wanted to say thanks for the influence. I was a young child, that had a dad that loved the TV and booze more than doing things with me, and from the stories I have heard. I don’t think anyone holds him in the highest of regards. But I digress….Influence.

I remember one day. You showed me some of your toy collection. One toy line in particular was branded into my mind from then on. The Mego line, “Micronauts.” 
You had the vehicle that, and I quote the fearsome Myriapod from the far-off galaxy of Thoraxia.” and that thing was called called “Hornetroid”


This is what it looked like. This vehicle broke my brain, like some horrible mechanized insect that could scorch the earth with its abominable fire power. That toy sent my mind on a collision course to find anything like this out there in the world. But being only 5 years old at the time, I didn’t have the funds to purchase such a thing. Later when I was 8 or 9 I did get some of the figures from my Grandmother. She found them at a garage sale and got them for me and one of the vehicles.




But still no Hornetroid though. I had two or three of the figures. Their chrome heads, clear blue bodies and oddly white feet and hands sent my imagination into overdrive!


I guess what I am trying to get at in this letter is to say that you guided me down the path of Science Fiction and I have never looked back since. I can vividly recall you showing me that toy and me just being blown away by it.

For some strange reason, the music of the French band, “Air” makes me think of the Micronauts. Because of you I am an avid toy collector. It was something that I was made fun of in high school for. You wouldn't believe what people called me because of it. I got rid of my toys near the end of high school after being pestered for long enough. I caved in and gave them to younger cousins. But after reading a Ray Bradbury quote, I changed my mind from then on. He said, “Love what you do and do what you love. Don't listen to anyone else who tells you not to do it. You do what you want, what you love. Imagination should be the center of your life.”

Ray found out about negative people in fourth grade, shortly after his classmates started making fun of him for collecting Buck Rogers comic strips.

"In that particular year, I tore up my comic strips and a month later, I burst into tears and said to myself, 'Why am I weeping?' Who died?' “He said.”And the answer was me. I had allowed these fools to kill me and to kill the future."

I knew exactly how he felt. I killed me because of those troglodytes; I let those who had no hobbies, except date raping girls on trampolines, to kill my hobby.  I was too embarrassed to go into a toy store without making up some stupid, elaborate story about finding a gift for a cousin, or I would bring my little sister in and tell her the story about pretending to find a toy for a cousin. It was very similar to trying to purchase prophylactics from a drug store clerk and avoid being judged.  Years ago I saw an old school mate in Wal-Mart and I was buying a transformer.
“Aren’t you a little too old to be buying that?” He asked me, like I should be ashamed because I am purchasing a toy!
“At least I am not wearing a shirt that says, “I love caulk.”” I said to him, while reading his shirt.

So now, I say who care what they think. I know I should have learned that lesson a long time ago, and in a way I did…but not this one, not this lesson. This was the most important lesson to be learned. Don’t let them kill your inner wonderment; don’t let them kill your inner child off. Cause once he’s dead. Then you are just one of them and you’ll catch yourself judging people for buying a toy while wearing a shirt that says, “I let the dogs out.”

Now cut to December of 2016 and I just recently I found a Battle Cruiser, the complete Micronauts vehicle at a flea market in Jonesboro. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I found it. It was just setting there, complete and the stickers weren’t even placed on it! Needless to say, it lives me with and my girlfriend now. Up to that point, I was on the fence about trying to find you and send you a letter. The toy clinched it for me. I told myself that I would ask your mother for your address. (kudos for steering clear of the vile facebook!) 


So here we are now. I hope that you don’t feel pressured to reply to this letter. I just hope that if finds you in good health and good memories. And even if you don’t remember me, that’s fine. I just wanted to reach out there in this cold world and say to you, “Thanks!”

And remember, No matter where you go, there you are.

Tim

Friday, April 14, 2017

Oh, the embarrassment....

When I was young, I used to take all the change that I had (which consisted entirely of pennies. Personally I think pennies multiply by masturbation. You put one in your pocket then two hours later, you got fifty of the suckers) and place them on my bed, I did this during the summer. The nice cool pennies on my skin, made it easier to sleep. One time doing this, I got up and looked at my reflection in the mirror.
My whole body was covered in pennies that were stuck to me like metallic leeches. So I jumped up and down in place to make them fall off, and I had tiny imprints of Lincoln and his memorial all over my body.
One time my mother opened the door to my room while I was de-pennying myself.
That was a hard thing to explain.
Oh, the embarrassment

Evil Flip-Flop!

The dreaded announcement of spring
Yes...
I can already hear it.
The vile echo of horridness, the sound of what I have connected to total unadulterated apathy and helplessness.
The sound of what makes me think of, two limbs riddled with compound fractures, being drug across a floor.
Yes... that sound announces the arrival of nature's renewal, it's flowering, and it's awakening. (Flowers creep me out...if you think about it, you are actually giving your loved ones a dozen castrated sexual organs from a plant. That she or he puts in a vase for all to see.)  
So yes, as I was saying, the noise that accompanies spring is the sound of flip-flops.
The evil flip-flop...
The moment the weather begins to warm is the moment that people stop wearing their uggs and start wearing those horrible atrocities! (Don't get me started on uggs.)
*shudders*
The sound that accompanies the flip-flops is really what I have a problem with. I don't know...I personally wouldn't want to wear an onomatopoeia on my feet or anywhere else.  Now if you live in feudal Japan and are wearing flip-flop-like sandals made of straw, I would have no problem with that, I mean if I saw people walking around with those types of footwear then I wouldn't be offended. Because that TERRIBLE sound would be gone as well.
And besides people haven't you read that article about having wrecks because their flip-flop got caught under the gas pedal or the woman that bought some flip-flops from Wal-Mart and suffered horrible chemical burns from them because they were cheaply made?
I could go on and on about those plastic abortions people wear on their feet but I think I've got my point across.
Didn't I?
Did I have a point?
Oh, yeah...I can't stand flip-flops!


Wednesday, April 12, 2017

Mark E. Rogers and The Dead

I remember in 1989, I was in 9th grade and in study hall and a friend of mine was reading The Dead by Mark E. Rogers.  He told me that was a very scary book and that I should definitely read it.
So, twelve hours later.  I neglected every class that day, I neglected my friends, the girl that I was obsessed with, I neglected my homework, dinner, and sleep that night.  This book scared the hell out of me! This is coming from someone who was raised on a steady diet of horror movies, horror comics, and other assorted things that could give a person the creeps.
So now fast forward to when I am a thirty-something adult and I come across this book on the internet and order it so consume yet again. Even now this book still scares the hell out of me! So naturally, I did what any great friend would do. I forced it on every friend I have. I made my girlfriend at the time read it. Even my mother had to read it! Needless to say, I had a lot of calls from my friends telling me in a sarcastic tone, “Thanks for making me read this book, it scared the hell out of me!” but they had to share my dread of this book! They had to know about this book. It was too important to not tell anyone about. Even now, when I run across someone who has not read this book, I pull it out and read to them the part that hooked me. Let’s just call it, “When Duncan meets Legion.” and then they react just like I did when I was in 9th grade. The just neglect everything and then call me and tell me that they hate me for making them read this very scary and creepy novel.

I just smile and say, “You’re very welcome.”