Where Did You Go? X-Mas Addition

Tis the season to be watching tons of the most merry programing and movies Hollywood has to offer. Even though I consider the Halloween season to be the most anticipated time of the year for fun TV, the Christmas season is arguably the most popular. Why I say this is because of all the cable channels that are 100% dedicated to the Holidays like AMC, Hallmark, Lifetime, ABC Family, QVC and TMC. Plus, Christmas movies outnumber any other holiday movies probably 51,687,342 to 1. So today I am going to pick a few of the 51,687,342 Christmas movies and see what the actors are up to today. I hope there are not too many dead.

“Stuck? Stuuuck? STUUUUUCCCKKK!!!”

Poor Flick. The kid that proved sticking your tongue to a flagpole is not an urban legend like previously believed. His role in the Christmas movie to end all Christmas movies, The Christmas Story, was really a prominent role to me. I think it was because he captured what kids were really like and that was his high pitch, shrill screams he belted. Bravo Scott Schwartz!

Holy Jingle Bells! Since his most famous role as Flick, it looks like Scott Schwartz has gotten his tongue stuck on more things than a flagpole. Unbelievably so, Scott made a pretty good run in the porn business through the 90’s. It never ceases to amaze me when writing these “catch up” articles what a few of these childhood stars delve into. But to be fair, he has done other things like his other famous role in The Toy and many after school specials. Today he runs a card shop with his dad and still acts in lower budget movies. His porn star days look like they have gone the way of the Dodo. I mean he is only 5 foot 6 so how impressive could he be? I’m just stating what others think.

“I am not a piece of undigested potato, you fucking dick-hole warrior!”

I don’t know if I quoted that completely accurate but I think I am pretty close. Anyway, Frank Finlay played the ghostly assistant to Scrooge (George C. Scott), Marley in the 1984 made for TV movie Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol. And holy holly shit, Marley scared the nog out of me. Really though, that part of the story was always the most unnerving. Much more than the Ghost Of Christmas Yet To Come.

Frank is one of those actors that has been a film legend but has not been privy in my limitless film knowledge because, well, that knowledge is reserved for films like Flight Of The Navigator and Mega Shark 3 (director’s cut). No, Frank is a “serious” British actor that has been in so many films, plays and TV specials from the 1950’s to present, I couldn’t read off the list without taking a pee break. But in that whole list that I am not willing to type, I really only recognized a few like The Pianist, Life Force (amazing space vampire movie) and The Three Musketeers followed a year later by The Four Musketeers (no idea). So with that, thanks Frank. Thanks for scaring the figgy pudding out of me on the most joy-est day of the year.

“Dinosaurs are always linked to the birth of Christ” (Almost made that 10, Norb)

I don’t know if you will remember the “Claymation Christmas Special” but if you do, you will be just as outraged as I am that this isn’t a Christmas classic like “Merry Christmas Charlie Brown” or” How The Grinch Stole Christmas”. No, this amazing TV special died with the dawn of Pixar animation because let’s face it; claymation takes artistic talent and computer geeks out number them 10 to 1. You can probably find the clay animators working for “Ace of Cakes” or something.

So where are our hosts Rex and Douches-Tricer-whocaresish?

Like you didn’t already know that?

“Santa, there is a little boy who wears bear sweaters and corduroy pants that lives in Marietta, Georgia. I think his style is amazing and I totally want to go steady with a guy like that.”

That was actually in the 1985 movie Santa Clause and the actress Carrie Kei Heim said that. I think they edited it out in the TV formated version but I remember it.

Seriously though, I had a huge crush on the young actress as a kid. And if you are a 31-year-old straight male that remembers 1985, you did too. Unfortunately she wasn’t in too many other movies other than Parent Trap II and a few TV programs like “Pippi Longstocking” and “The Equilizer”. No matter, though because she has a successful life as a lawyer, wife and mother of one in Boston. I like learning that child actors have another destiny besides being a guest on “The Smoking Gun TV show”.

That’s where I am going to leave this addition of “Where Did You Go” for the 2009 Christmas season. We learned that Flick’s pole licking led him to a carrier in pornography, Marley is arguably the scariest of the ghosts in The Christmas Carol (except for Goofy), Claymation is awesome and the only way for a comeback is to go buy your own Play-do set, and the cute girl in Santa Clause grew up to be boring and a lawyer. So that means she is damned to Hell. Well, that’s pretty interesting.

December 16, 2009 7

It’s Christmas Time Already?

What? When did this happen? I am not going to say that I don’t like it, but what happened to, well, the year? I suppose there is no use in being upset by a year that when from zero to “Ba-Zing” so…let’s start the holiday off with a bang!

If the above image is confusing to you, then I guess you don’t have X-Entertainment.com in your life, and I am sad for you. Like a broken record, every year at the same time, I shout from the mountain tops to check out Matt’s famous site of all things great. So this year is no different. Make a point to click the link and take a fun trip, whether it is the blog or the wacky antics in the advent calender, I promise you’ll feel colors. Red and Green colors.

For the first official day of the 2009 Christmas season, I believe I will discuss the greatest memories I have and that is the countless hours spent browsing the Sears catalog, making a “wish list” and checking twice. Or three hundred times. Ok, five hundred. Whatever. Combing my memory, here are some great toys that even today, I wouldn’t mind having.

The USS FLAGG was the greatest toy a boy could have. It was like a toy for your toys. That didn’t make any sense, I know, but go with me here. It was so massive it required a permanent portion of a room. I had fantasies about this thing. I dreamed of being the kid that truly had the best gift every kid wanted and the massive amounts superficial friends I would acquire because of it. I dreamed of eating cheeseburgers on the deck while watching Thundercats. I dreamed of reenacting the opening scene of Top Gun while humming the theme song. A kid can dream, can’t he? But sadly enough, it was a dream. Never had the damn thing.

Holy shit did I have a few of these. I think this was the present that all my relatives bought for me when I was six. It was as if everyone got a memo for that Christmas stating my aspirations to build a fleet for the Rebel Alliance. What ever the case, if you needed a Kenner X-Wing; I was your guy. The one thing I hated about this toy was the laser sound. It made a noise that would turn a cat inside out and explode. What ever that noise was, it was not a laser sound. Watch this below and see what I am talking about. “REEEEE”

Speaking of lasers, remember this awesomeness of awesome? The Hasbro Lazer Tag set was one of my most treasured Christmas gifts and even though I never found a kid in the neighborhood who had a set to compete with, I did enjoy shooting myself with the help of the bathroom mirror. The only thing I didn’t like about this was the noisy heartbeat sounds on the monitor. Made sneaking around pretty much impossible.

When I was searching for the perfect Transformer picture to rant and rave for the “must have” toy of the mid to late 80’s, I came upon this. Megatron. In an instant I was whisked off the couch back to 1987, sitting in my PJ’s on the blue carpeted den in Marietta, Georgia on Christmas morning. On my lap was this glorious purple box. When I took it out of the static clinging styrofoam I immediately began to “transform” the Rugger pistol into the nemesis of Optimus Prime, ignoring the pleads of my father not to force it. But before I knew it, I forced it, and hyper-extended it. I broke off the leg of Megatron. Though the disappointment was apparent, I still managed to enjoy it for what it was. God, I can still smell the pine, scotch tape and new plastic. Some nostalgia can rival any of Einstein’s greatest theories.

Pow Pow Power Wheels! Much like the dream of owning the USS Flagg, another pipe dream of mine was owning a set of Power Wheels. I had plenty of first grade daydreams of driving my Power Wheel Jeep to the store for my Mom or picking up my pal Toby and cruising to Showbiz Pizza and catching a Rock-A-Fire Explosion animatronic show. But it was not in the stars. But the next year I did car jack the neighbors daughter and take her Barbie Jeep around the block. That is until Mom found out and a foot chase issued. Turns out Power Wheels were a lot faster in my dreams. I was escorted by the elbow to a cell without dinner.

The WWF Wrestling Buddies were a big item for my friends and me. What toy could be better than an Ultimate Warrior a 75 pound kid can body slam? In fact, this pillow character above is directly responsible for a dislocated shoulder. I will just say the couch is not a platform for a pile driver. It’s embarrassing to admit losing a match to a half pound pillow. Even if it was this dude:

Yeah, would you mess with this guy? I didn’t think so.

Perhaps it was for a lack of siblings but I really wanted a bear that could read me bedtime stories and have conversations about Star Wars. This was the one time it was sociably acceptable to have a teddy bear as a boy. We all knew Christopher Robin was a pansy. But going through my old photos from my time home for Thanksgiving I found a troubling picture.

Ah shit. No wonder. I will leave it at that. No wonder.

Nothing will fuck a vacuum up like a Lite Brite peg. I know this from experience. But really, I have received this a couple of different times during Christmas and even though I understood the concept, I never made anything more than an illuminated Jackson Pullock. Seriously, if Lite Brite was an intelligence test, I would have scored somewhere between “cat with paintbrush in mouth” and “chimp with paint on it’s ass”. Meh, this was a shit gift.

No, I have never owned a Strawberry Shortcake doll but I have tried to eat one. Like you haven’t at least thought about it. But I can attest, it just tastes like plastic.

I believe this is a good way to wrap up this old Christmas-want article. The one, the only Castle Greyskull. Even my Grandmother knows what Castle Greyskull is. This magnificent play set was a Masters of the Universe staple in every snotty kid’s room. I was shit, I admit. I even had Skeletor’s Castle. In fact, there are fond memories of saying “boner” over the Doom microphone. I suppose you have to be eight to see the humor. I still cackle when I hear “boner”.

I hope some of my memories have brought up a few of yours. I know I can’t be alone in my head toy chest. Tis the season to be happy and these memories make me smile no matter where or when. Let’s kick off the X-Mas fun starting….right…….NOW!

December 3, 2009 25

Ode To The Elementary School Art Ashtray

This post may be a little dated to some readers but to many of us we have fond memories of the lovely clay art projects in elementary school circa 1980. It was a different time and what flew then would sure to crash hard today. I kind of miss that naivate’. Simple.

Around the beginning of December the art teacher’s project for the kids was always geared toward Christmas presents for the folks. I am not sure if they do that now with the whole “Christmas is offensive” campaign that seems to exponentially increase each year. But back in my day, parents always knew their tax dollars would yield intelligent kids and some sort of ornament each Christmas. The real bonus would be a clay thing. I say clay thing because many parents got just that; a thing.

I remember these projects would always give me delusions of grandeur and at the end of it I would be the envy of every kid as I brought home the most beautiful clay thing my parents had ever seen. Of course being a no talent ass clown grounded me within the first few minutes of art class. Clay was not the medium for me.

I really can’t remember how long this project lasted but I believe it was a couple of weeks. Each day we would retrieve our work in progress that was wrapped in cheese cloth from the fridge and start on destroying what we had done the previous day. There were not many guidelines for what the final product would be. If you had an artistic inkling then perhaps the folks would receive a pot for a plant or a nice plate with a hand print in it. If you were like me and struggled to form any sort of shape they got an ashtray.

It was a cool time when a kid could express his or her love through artistic expression resulting in a carcinogenic ash receptacle. There is no way that shit would fly today. Under that dump-in-a-jar plan for zero tolerance I am sure a kid who made an ashtray would be suspended and child services would be called ensuring a debate on Foxnews’ Kelley’s Court. (That woman sucks) No, kids don’t make them like they used to.

Well, the process would draw to a close soon enough. Once the shape was made it would bake. Then you painted it and glazed it and that usually sealed the deal for me. It wasn’t just shit but colored shit after that. But by that time I was just happy to be done with it. Of course the teacher had to grade it. No matter what I got the elementary equivalent of a B which was VG for “very good”.

Don’t be fooled, the picture above was not done by me. Actually this one is pretty fucking good. It is far less bumpy and minus the fingerprints. The only way to to tell the difference between my ashtray and petrified orangutan shit was the fact it had a convenient dent in the middle; perfect for putting out a cowboy killer.

On Christmas morning I would give them the ashtray with a little trepidation because even a little kid knows the difference between art and deification. But my parents always looked at it as if I gave them gold. Today I really look back at that and know how much they love me. They didn’t even smoke.

A few years ago I found my ashtray. It was in the table top Nativity set and baby Jesus was sleeping in it. I kid you not. But don’t tell him, he doesn’t need to know it’s an ashtray.

July 17, 2009 14

How A Guy Makes A Christmas Sweater

It’s that time of year again! Time to roll out the holly, deck the halls, drink the eggnog and buy your dad English Leather. But this year I am adding a new tradition. I am going to make my own Christmas sweater and attend at least one holiday ugly sweater party. Lucky for me I was invited to one and I don’t have to crash a complete stranger’s shindig.

So now is the question of how does a guy go about making a Christmas sweater, anyway? Well, I need a sweater. That’s the first step. TO VALUE VILLAGE!

There it is! The canvas for my Christmas expression! And it was only $6 so I can’t feel too bad if I butcher it with gaudy crap. It’s not like I went to the mall and picked up a Kashmir sweater. I just pray that no one died in it.

What you are about to see in the next few pictures was inspired by a lost bid on eBay and even as I write this I am still stewing over that loss. I take the most stupid shit personally sometimes. Anyway, I lost and now I am stealing the concept and doing it myself. I hope who ever bought that sweater online is happy they paid $210. Maybe it’ll give them a rash.

I am starting with the back of the sweater because the front is 3D. You know where I am going with this.

Yes. I went to Hancock Fabrics. Wanna fight about it? Ok, well I decided that on the back of the sweater I needed a reindeer’s ass. This was not on the said lost sweater. This is my invention. So you can see the antlers that I cut off a novelty headband and fabric to cut out the body from. I am the type of person that will always get the carpenter’s rule of thumb, “measure twice, cut once”, backwards. I just jumped in with a permanent marker and scissors and went to town.

Reindeer are males, right? It’s hard to imagine Donner and Blitzen as girls and if I am not mistaken, wasn’t Donner Rudolf’s father? Did I just make all that up? Oh well, he needs testicles so there will be no confusion. Christmas balls!

You can’t buy shit like this, folks! Seriously, where would you find this? Now for the front. This is where I have “borrowed” the idea from eBay. But that was sewn and I am gluing. I feel confident that the glue will hold because Billy May’s said it would. He has an outside voice.

Isn’t he cute? Well don’t get too attached because his head is coming off and I am gluing it to my sweater.

Oh, and there is Kootanee. We are best buddies now.

It’s kind of funny but Kootanee actually watches TV. About a second after I took the picture above a bear came on the television and Kootanee ran into the bathroom and it took me about a half an hour to get him to come out. Poor guy. I gave him the headless bodies.

Now that I safely decapped the snowmen it is now time for gluing. But first I had to measure the position they were to be in. This takes both precision and a degree of shamelessness. You’ll see why.

I have no shame. Who do I think I am? My Mom would be so disappointed in me. I apologize, I really do. Me and my naked feet.

As you can see I am going for the Madonna style with the carrot noses. They are not as big as I would like but they’ll do. Why should I complain, though? I have bigger issues like the fact am a 30 year old guy making a Christmas sweater.

I’m not going to lie to you, I am pretty proud of the way this turned out. Making crafts has never been my bag. I went on a date a long time ago to paint pottery and drink wine. It’s a quirky Atlanta thing. Anyway, I finished it, brought it home and it leaked. True, I didn’t make the bowl, but that was a sign that all things creative should not come from my kidneys. (points to forehead)