I just want to take a minute and share with you a little about this book my sister gave me for Christmas. It's not your ordinary stocking-stuffer trivia book, the Uncle John's Bathroom Reader or the Jeff Foxworthy Redneck Christmas book. This is way better. It's called Just Can't Get Enough: Toys, Games, and Other Stuff From the 80's That Rocked.
If you grew up in the 1980's, this is a great walk down memory lane. Authors Matthew Robinson and Jensen Karp have eerily captured all the feelings and memories I have (which apparently are universal to children of the 80's). This read is hilarious and it will make you want to break out your Ewok Village from your parents' attic.
Just Can't Get Enough covers plenty more of your favorite toys and whatnot of yesteryear, from Pogo Balls to Garbage Pail Kids, with hilarious descriptions and personal anecdotes from the authors (trust me, if you grew up with this stuff, you will laugh, particularly the sections on He-Man, the Ewok Village and M.A.S.K.).
The U.S.S. Flagg G.I. Joe Aircraft Carrier was, without a doubt, the holy grail of 1980's toys. For its time, the U.S.S. Flagg was the biggest, most expensive, most extravagant toy imaginable. No one had this thing. It was something you heard about in hushed whispers on the playground, something spoken about in cafeteria backroom huddles. Even a picture of this thing was a valuable item - it was proof it existed.
Just like the Jessica Rabbit crotch shot in Who Framed Roger Rabbit?, the U.S.S. Flagg was something everyone had heard about but no one had seen. Most toy stores wouldn't even carry the damn thing because they didn't have the shelf or warehouse space to keep it. The U.S.S. Flagg was a thing of great mystery, a decadent mirage of hope floating just below the horizon of possibility, a zeitgeist for the era we called home. . .
. . . The U.S.S. Flagg Aircraft Carrier playset was roughly the size of Shaquille O'Neal. Coming in at 7½ feet long, 3½ feet tall, and 2½ feet, the size of the U.S.S. Flagg was simply ridiculous. The thing was so big that if you gave it to your average kid, he'd have to choose between either it or his bed to remain in his room. That'd be a pretty easy choice, though - sleep on the Flagg all night, play on the Flagg all day. . .
Peter Finch's famous monologue from the 1976 film Network:
I don't drink, and I could really care less about the fate of this possibly illegally obtained whiskey, estimated at $1 Million. I just thought that the quote below from an "outraged" whiskey fan was priceless. Bless his Canadian heart...
Vintage Whiskey May Be Poured Out
Law Requires Officials Destroy Whiskey That Cannot Be Sold Legally
from WSMV Channel 4 Nashville
NASHVILLE, Tenn. -- Here's a sobering thought: Hundreds of bottles of Jack Daniel's whiskey, some of it almost 100 years old, may be unceremoniously poured down a drain because authorities suspect it was being sold by someone without a license.Officials seized 2,400 bottles late last month during warehouse raids in Nashville and Lynchburg, the southern Tennessee town where the whiskey is distilled.
"Punish the person, not the whiskey," said an outraged Kyle MacDonald, 28, a Jack Daniel's drinker from British Columbia who promotes the whiskey on his blog. "Jack never did anything wrong, and the whiskey itself is innocent."
Investigators are also looking into whether some of the bottles had been stolen from the distillery. No one has been arrested.
Authorities are still determining how much of the liquor will be disposed of, and how much can be sold at auction.
Tennessee law requires officials to destroy whiskey that cannot be sold legally in the state, such as bottles designed for sale overseas and those with broken seals.
"We'd pour it out," said Danielle Elks, executive director of the Tennessee Alcoholic Beverage Commission.
The estimated value of the liquor is $1 million, possibly driven up by the value of the antique bottles, which range from 3-liter bottles to half-pints.
One seized bottle dates to 1914, with its seal unbroken. Elks said it is worth $10,000 on the collectors market. Investigators are looking into whether the liquor was being sold for the value of the bottles rather than the whiskey.
"Someone was making a great deal of profit," she said.
Tennessee whiskeys age in charred white oak barrels, but the maturing process that gives them character mostly stops when it is bottled. A bottled whiskey can deteriorate over a long period of time, especially if it is opened or exposed to sunlight and heat.
Christopher Carlsson, a spirits connoisseur and collector in Rochester, N.Y., said old vintages of whiskey in their original containers are highly prized.
"A lot of these bottles are priceless," he said. "It's like having a rare painting. It's heavily collected."
The raids, prompted by a tip, were conducted at two warehouses and a home in Lynchburg, about 65 miles southeast of Nashville. Another raid was at a Nashville hotel room where drinks were being served and bottles were being sold.
For now, the whiskey is being stored in a Nashville vault.
Elks acknowledged that pouring out the whiskey would not be a happy hour for her.
"It'd kill me," she said.
Alright, Briefcase fans, it's been a while since I've blogged, and finally, à la Holden McNeil, I have something personal to say.
I watched a movie last night, and I'm quite certain it is now the reigning champion of movie turdburgers: Semi-Tough.
Released the same year as the first Bandit, it is probably Burt Reynolds' worst movie. And I say that having seen part of City Heat and all of Cop & a Half.
In addition to the poorly wigged, legendary - and dare I say genial (for Thomas) - Burt Reynolds, it has Kris Kristofferson, Robert Preston, Roger E. Mosley ("TC" from Magnum, P.I.), Carl Weathers, Brian Dennehy, and Bert Convy - that's right, I said BERT CONVY! So I'm thinking that this looks like Smokey & the Bandit meets Slap-Shot meets North Dallas Forty, right? Wrong.
I can't believe I sat through most of it, save the part where I went to the bathroom. I don't know why I kept watching. Maybe it's because there is nothing good on TV these days. Maybe it was because Convy is so danged good-looking. Perhaps I missed the key element of the story when I was in the john. The majority of the movie seemed to be a parody of/stab at the "est" seminars. If you didn't live in the 70's or if you haven't seen VH1's "I Love the 70's," you won't get it. Anywho, remember: that's Semi-Tough. Avoid it like the plague. I still think Burt Reynolds is great, though.
Well, I was thinking of writing something about the Red Mountain Museum, inspired by this week's Birmingham Weekly cover story. Weekly staff writer Molly Folse presents a good article that chronicles the life of the one-time staple of annual elementary school field trips, you should pick up a copy of this week's issue. It's free.
I was going to say something about how the Museum closed with the advent of the McWane Center in 1998, and how anyone who went to elementary school at any point from 1977 until then can tell you all about the Discovery Place and the Red Mountain Museum. I was going to say something about how the Museum was a fabulous byproduct of cutting into Red Mountain for the Expressway, as they found all kinds of fossils and geological whatnot, how I still have a huge fossil rock from the Museum, and also how all of the Museum's artifacts are owned by the McWane Center, yet they have been exiled in storage for the past ten years.
But no, I can't think of any of that now, because I am really intrigued by this entry on "The Backboard" classified section on the last page of the Weekly:
I guess it's good to know that I'm not completely out of options
when it comes to romance. Whoever this is, will not only
provide you with mail-order nuptials, but they'll teach
you her language too. Aww...
Ever wonder whatever became of Jane's Addiction frontman Perry Farrell? I turned on C-SPAN the other day and there he was, the distinguished gentleman from Connecticut's Third District addressing the House. But the chair recognized him as Rosa DeLauro. Must have been my mistake.
