Flashback Friday: Money For Nothing

Yes, denizens, I want my MTV. Of course, I’m old enough to remember that MTV stands for “Music Television” for a reason. I’m probably even older to some of you for actually writing what I just wrote. I do apologize, but seriously? I miss the days of creative music videos. Then again, I also miss the days of creative music…and now I bet some of you are wondering if I’m even older than you originally thought. I swear, I’m in my 30s. And, no, that doesn’t mean I was born in the 30s.

Anyway, when I think of MTV from “way back when,” the 1985 Dires Straits song “Money for Nothing” is one of the songs that immediately comes to mind. Brilliant marketing ploy, if you think about it, using MTV as part of your lyrics, thus ensuring a permanent mnemonic for an entire generation.

This ended up being the biggest hit that Dire Straits ever had, more than likely because of the video’s influence. It was such a popular video, in fact, that it was the first to appear on MTV’s European launch in 1987. With a catchy guitar riff, Sting’s annoyingly infectious falsetto, somewhat cryptic, tangential lyrics, and a video that used early computer animation in whimsical (although shockingly simplistic now) ways, it’s no wonder that this continues to be considered one of the most influential entries from the days of early music videos.

However, it’s also an offensive song as well. Here, from the always unquestionable Wikipedia:

The singer, or more properly the first-person narrating character, refers to a musician “banging on the bongos like a chimpanzee” and describes a singer as “that little faggot with the earring and the make-up,” and bemoans that these artists get “money for nothing and chicks for free.” These lyrics were criticized as being sexist, racist, and homophobic, and in some later releases of the song the lyrics were edited for airplay; “faggot” for example is often replaced with “mother” (itself a shortened version of “motherfucker”).

It’s such a shame that a song that should have remained light-hearted and silly instead allowed itself to be brought down by caustic and hurtful epithets. I know that Mark Knopfler has tried to make excuses for using these lyrics, but really, they’re inexcusable. The song was edited for radio play, by completely removing the second verse. However, the music video uses the full song, offensive lyrics and all.

I don’t want to use the excuse that the 80s “were different times.” However, they were. They were a decade of unbelievably mixed messages…a decade marked by the presence of gender-bending musicians like Boy George…and marred by music and movies that slipped in the “f” epithet like it was any other insult. It always shocks me when I’m watching or listening to something from my childhood and all of a sudden, a character utters this word. It’s as jarring as Sixteen Candles‘ painfully stereotypical Long Duk Dong.

So here it is, denizens…the dark side of Flashback Fridays. Not everything from my generation’s adolescence is Smurfs and snap bracelets and PEZ dispensers. But the good news is that things change. Things have changed since we were young. Things are still changing. However, I do still want my MTV…I just wish it came with actual music videos.

Here, then, is the video. This is the unedited version of the song. So if you’d rather not hear it, skip it. Or let me know what you think of this song. Is it a decent song ruined by poor choices by the writers? Or do you think it sucks regardless? What about the video? Cutting edge? Or painfully cheesy and dated?

http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/VsnA0ix9hZU?fs=1&hl=en_US

Poster Picks: Hard Candy

Right off the bat, I have a confession: I have altered this poster. I only did one thing, but it was significant enough that I wanted to be forthright in my PhotoShop deception. I removed something from the top of the poster…a review quote, to be precise. See, I really don’t like it when movie companies place review quotes on the posters. I know, I know, it’s all about marketing…and good reviews sell more tickets. But, to me, adding a questionable movie review quote (because, really, how many people out there give a movie a good review in the hopes that their quote will be the one chosen?) to someone’s design is like adding the McDonald’s golden arches to the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.

Okay, it’s not that dramatic. But it’s still tampering with someone else’s artistic vision. I don’t know if you’ve noticed this or not, but I have yet to choose a poster that contains review quotes. I highly doubt that will change…but never say never, right?

Anyway. So this is the poster for 2005’s Hard Candy. Without the gratuitous review quote at the top, this poster takes on an even more desolate, haunting quality. Lots of empty space, interrupted by this gorgeously unsettling image: a solitary hooded figure, facing away from us, standing in the middle of a giant animal trap. The person standing inside the trap has a rather androgynous quality to their figure; however, the skirt and leggings, the delicate wrist with the aqua-colored watch band, and the thin ankles and small feet lead us to believe this is a girl. True, the oversized nature of the trap makes her seem even more diminutive, but she’s obviously also rather slight, while her mode of dress leads us to believe that she’s young…more than likely somewhere in her teens.

And she’s bait. It’s not just the obvious that gives this away. Look again at what she’s wearing: a red hoodie with the hood pulled up. Perhaps it’s because of childhood conditioning, but I immediately think of one thing when I see a red hood: Little Red Riding Hood. My, what big teeth you have, indeed. Of course, the predator becomes the prey in Little Red Riding Hood’s story. Kind of like how a predator caught in a trap like the one in this poster also becomes the prey.

There’s a surprising lack of vulnerability in the girl’s stance. Even though she’s facing away from us and her hood prevents her from even sneaking a peripheral peak behind her, she’s completely at ease. Her weight is evenly distributed to both feet. Her arms are down by her sides, her hand possibly slipped inside a pocket on her skirt. We can’t see her face, but from the position of the hood, it seems as though she is holding her head at a normal angle rather than looking downward. Nothing defensive or protective in her posture at all. Just her standing there, in the middle of a trap with her mysterious bag of tricks slung over her shoulder. If it weren’t for all those jagged teeth around her, you’d think she was just waiting for a ride or something equally benign.

Oh, and yet again I’d like to mention: We can’t see her face. Rather limiting, don’t you think? No clues to her appearance or emotional status at all.

Here comes a bit of an assumption followed by a bit of possibly offensive image association. We live in rather disturbing times, however. And while there are many things that could require a teenage girl as bait, I think it’s safe to assume that most people would jump to a disturbing sexual conclusion about this scenario. Now, take another look at our red-hooded, upright (some might even say erect) figure inside this wide-open circular trap just waiting to spring closed around it.

Graphic enough for you?

As you look at the floor on which the trap sets, you can’t help but notice fissures running underneath the right side of the trap. Something isn’t quite right, something isn’t holding. Something is cracking under pressure.

Then comes the movie title. The artist used a clean sans serif, nicely kerned and in a complementary, almost soothing neutral color. Sort of softens the blow of the preceding image. It also somewhat lessens the jarring meaning of the title when taken in conjunction with the assumption that this is a lure for a predator of the sexually perverse variety. Hard takes on a rather sinister meaning in this unsettling, predatory light. To be honest, so does Candy. Something sweet. Something succulent. Something to be savored. Something to be devoured.

But not easily. This candy is hard…

A View to Die For…

I love the cemeteries of New Orleans: beautiful, aged, foreign, mysterious. My first trip to the Crescent City was incomplete until I was able to sneak away from work long enough for a stroll through St. Louis Cemetery #1. Many of you have probably seen this particular cemetery without even realizing it. Ever see Easy Rider? Then you should recognize this tomb:

If you haven’t seen the movie, I’m not going to ruin it now by telling you what happens on this particular statue. Suffice it to say, however, that because of that scene, the city of New Orleans has banned all production companies from ever again filming in St. Louis #1. Thank you, Peter Fonda.

However, there is another movie link inside this particular cemetery. Everything from the One…

This, denizens, would be the property of Nicolas Cage. I’ve read that this tomb had something to do with National Treasure 3. Since I have spared my brain the torment of watching any of these films, I cannot confirm this. However, our tour guide informed us that Cage plans to use this as his final resting place when his own Ghost Rider comes looking for him. Until then, the tomb is inhabited by Cage’s acting ability, which, let’s be honest, was DOA anyway.

Other famous names from history already reside at St. Louis #1, including Homer Plessy, he of the landmark 1896 Supreme Court case Plessy v. Ferguson, which established the erroneous concept of “separate but equal.”

Then there is Marie Laveau, the Voodoo Queen of New Orleans. This is a bouquet left for the Voodoo Queen (note the triple Xs all over her crypt; no, she wasn’t also a porn star…some believe the Xs are a sign of gratitude to the queen and her powers, even from beyond the grave).

There are other noteworthy burials inside this cemetery, but these are the only ones I snapped shots of before being distracted by the actual beauty of this cemetery. It’s located in a rather “off” section of the city, so if you visit it, please do so with a group. Trust me, you won’t regret your visit.

Flashback Friday: The New Zoo Revue

This is available on DVD but China Beach isn't? There is no justice in this world, K.C.

Other kids, when they reminisce about their childhoods, mention watching shows like Sesame Street, 3-2-1-Contact, or The Electric Company. Strangely enough, I don’t remember watching any of these shows when I was little (at least not at the age at which I should have been watching them…prophets know I did enjoy me some Sesame Street muppetry when I was in summertime shiftless teen mode).

However, I do remember watching The New Zoo Revue. Actually, that’s not even completely true. I don’t remember any of the episodes. I didn’t even remember the majority of the theme song until I found a few clips on YouTube. The only thing I really remember about this show is that my dad made unmerciful fun of it. He would call it “The Rubber Head Revue” and would alter the theme song accordingly. He thought it was one of the most ridiculous things that he’d ever seen. This was, of course, years before my Pee-wee Herman obsession kicked in.

Looking at this following clip as well as a few others I found, I have to admit, it is pretty ridiculous. And quite creepy. And dated. Seriously, could this show scream 70s any louder? Those pants. Those go-go boots. Those hairstyles. And who knew that before Lady Kier Kirby found the groove in her heart, she lip-synced (rather poorly) through horribly cheesy lesson-teaching diddies directed toward dancers wearing giant rubber animal heads?

[Loba Tangent: No, that’s not really Lady Kier Kirby. And, no, I didn’t have to look up her name…I already knew it. Oh, to flotsam that floats to the top of my memory when I least expect it.]

Anyway, welcome to one of my earliest television memories, denizens. It ain’t pretty. But it explains a lot…

http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/9CFNAuVYc78?fs=1&hl=en_US

In Beauty, There Is Truth

Sometimes there’s so much beauty in the world I feel like I can’t take it, like my heart’s going to cave in.

I know. Most people found that line, and that scene, from American Beauty to be cheesy. I remember it bringing tears to my eyes. Guess I’m just a soppy girl after all.

It’s so easy to be jaded, so easy to lose faith, lose sight, lose hope. But sometimes…sometimes, you stumble upon a moment of beauty so overwhelming, that you’re left breathless and restored at the same time. I found such moments while driving into Sedona, Arizona, this past weekend.

I wish I could find the words, but they elude even me.

I wish my camera could have captured the rawness and the majesty of every moment. But nothing comes close.

Still, I did try. And these are some of my favorite moments. I hope you enjoy them…

BookBin2011: The Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror: Thirteenth Annual Collection

So this is it, denizens. This is what has been the bane of my literary existence for quite some time. True, when the slog became too tedious, I stopped to read some books that I thought I might actually enjoy. Then again, I thought I would enjoy this anthology.

Oh so wrong was I.

I purchased this anthology almost 10 years ago at a charity book sale at my first Big Girl job. I purchased quite a few books that day, including several mint/near mint Stephen King books that I still haven’t read. I believe they might end up on the scheduled reading list at some point this year.

I honestly thought that this more than 700-page tome (which includes more than 100 pages of preface material) would be an inevitable favorite. True, I much prefer to read science fiction than fantasy, but I do enjoy a good fantasy romp now and again. Plus, I’m such a horror junkie that I figured there would be plenty in the mix for me to love.

Right off the bat, I think that the editors of this anthology confused the term “fantasy” with the term “miscellaneous,” because that’s what this collection screams to me. It comprises stories that I wouldn’t in a million years categorize as fantasy stories…and, yes, I do understand that this is already a wide-reaching genre, covering stories from Mary Poppins to His Dark Materials to Edward Scissorhands to Xena. Still, there’s something about several of the stories in this collection that strikes me as decidedly lacking in that fantasy je ne sais quoi. They simply seem to be lacking in anything that would be easily defined as belonging to any other genres as well. So just throw them in with the fantasy grouping. No one will notice.

Also, I’m either far more nonplussed by fear than I used to be, or there are hardly any horror stories in this anthology. I think the only story that really got under my skin in any way was Tim Lebbon’s “White.” Lebbon strikes a strong, disconcerting stride, leaving you descending further and further into a world designed to keep you uneasy, unsettled, uncertain.

Paul J. McAuley also provides a delightfully macabre tale with his “Naming the Dead”; “The Disappearance of Elaine Coleman” by Steven Millhauser was indeterminably chilling; and Gemma Files’ “The Emperor’s Old Bones,” Steve Rasnic Tem’s “Halloween Street,” and Tia V. Travis’s “The Kiss” finally prove that sometimes anthologies do save the best for (near the) last.

Add to this the fact that Neil Gaiman makes two strong appearances, “Harlequin Valentine” and “Keepsakes and Treasures: A Love Story,” and it almost sounds as though I’m not too sure about the fate of this book’s future in my collection. The thing is this though: I recently purchased Gaiman’s Fragile Things, which contains both of the stories from this anthology. As for the other stories I mentioned, as much as I enjoyed them, I feel that the disappointment of the rest of this anthology still greatly outweighs any delight that these few non-Gaiman tales brought me.

Final Verdict: Be gone, oh ye tome of terrific disappointment. I’m tired of dusting you. I will, however, list your Table of Contents so that others might see what you possess and decide for themselves whether or not they’d like to give you a go:

  • “Darkrose and Diamond” by Ursula K. Le Guin
  • “The Chop Girl” by Ian R.MacLeod
  • “The Girl Detective” by Kelly Link
  • “The Transformation” by N. Scott Momaday
  • “Carabosse” (poem” by Delia Sherman
  • “Harlequin Valentine” by Neil Gaiman
  • “Toad” by Patricia A. McKillip
  • “Washed in the River” (poem) by Beckian Fritz Goldberg
  • “The Dinner Party” by Robert Girardi
  • “Heat” by Steve Rasnic Tem
  • “The Wedding at Esperaza” by Linnet Taylor
  • “Redescending” (poem) by Ursula K. Le Guin
  • “You Don’t Have to Be Mad…” by Kim Newman
  • “The Paper-Thin Garden” by Thomas Wharton
  • “The Anatomy of a Mermaid” by Mary Sharratt
  • “The Grammarian’s Five Daughters” by Eleanor Aranson
  • “The Tree is My Hat” by Gene Wolfe
  • “Welcome” by Michael Marshall Smith
  • “The Pathos of Genre” (essay) by Douglas E. Winter
  • “Shatsi” by Peter Crowther
  • “Keepsakes and Treasures: A Love Story” by Neil Gaiman
  • “What You Make It” by Michael Marshall Smith
  • “The Parwat Ruby” by Delia Sherman
  • “Odysseus Old” (poem) by Geoffrey Brock
  • “The Smell of the Deer” by Kent Meyers
  • “Chorion and the Pleiades” (poem) by Sarah Van Arsdale
  • “Crosley” by Elizabeth Engstrom
  • “Naming the Dead” by Paul J. McAuley
  • “The Stork-Men” by Juan Goytisolo
  • “The Disappearance of Elaine Coleman” by Steven Millhauser
  • “White” by Tim Lebbon
  • “Dear Floods of Her Hair” by James Sallis
  • “Mrs Santa Decides to Move to Florida” (poem) by April Selley
  • “Tanuki” by Jan Hodgman
  • “At Reparata” by Jeffrey Ford
  • “Skin So Green and Fine” by Wendy Wheeler
  • “Old Merlin Dancing on the Sands of Time” (poem) by Jane Yolen
  • “Sailing the Painted Ocean” by Denise Lee
  • “Grandmother” (poem) by Laurence Snydal
  • “Small Song” by Gary A. Braunbeck
  • “The Emperor’s Old Bones” by Gemma Files
  • “The Duke of Wellington Misplaces his Horse” by Susanna Clarke
  • “Halloween Street” by Steve Rasnic Tem
  • “The Kiss” by Tia V. Travis
  • “The Beast” (poem) by Bill Lewis
  • “The Hedge” (poem) by Bill Lewis
  • “Pixel Pixies” by Charles de Lint
  • “Falling Away” by Elizabeth Birmingham

Flashback Friday: Macarena

Oh but I’m in a devilish mood this Friday. Remember “The Macarena”? I bet most of you just finally got the song out of your heads, right?

Sorry about that.

Actually, no, I’m not. I’m evil. Evil doesn’t apologize.

😉

This song drove me nuts. Yeah, it was catchy the first time. It was even catchy the first 10 times. The first 100 times? Not so much. By the quadruple-digit numbers, I was ready to find the radio DJ who was yet again subjecting me to this torture and rip their toenails off…through their nostrils.

Evil and violent. Such a combination for a Flashback Friday.

http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/sN62PAKoBfE?fs=1&hl=en_US

BookBin2011: Rough Justice: The DC Comics Sketches of Alex Ross

I debated whether or not to post Rough Justice: The DC Comics Sketches of Alex Ross to the BookBin. It admittedly contains the bare minimum text possible. If you’re just reading the book, in fact, I’m willing to bet you could zip through this in less than an hour.

However, if you’re a comic art geek like me, you’re going to spend as much time with this book as you possibly can. I received this as an early Christmas present from my California Dreamin’ friend (thank you again, Z), and I haven’t gone a day without picking it up and looking at it since. Why? Because the inside is just as gorgeous as this cover art:

Seriously, I’m such a sucker for beautiful comic art. And, even though I do enjoy abstract or reinvigorated interpretations, comic artist extraordinaire Alex Ross continuously blows me away with his almost photo-realistic renderings of some of our most beloved comic stars. His specialty is obviously Superman, but this book is filled with gorgeous renderings of many of DC Comics’ big hitters and several lesser known players resurrected by Ross either for proposed or accepted revisits to their worlds.

[Loba Tangent: Oh, and before any of you start getting strange ideas about the sadomasochistic quality of the title, it’s called Rough Justice because most of the drawings within are rough pencil or marker sketches. Doesn’t matter though; even with nothing more than a pencil, Ross is an exemplary artist.]

Probably the most interesting of these proposed revisits was a redesign that Ross came up with for Barbara Gordon’s Batgirl. He formulated a new storyline for her and even came up with some beautiful sketches of what he envisioned his new, darker Batgirl would look like. Perhaps she looks familiar?

Yep, Ross’s redesign of Barbara Gordon’s Batgirl costume was slightly modified to become Kate Kane’s Batwoman costume (thankfully said modifications included getting rid of those ridonculous heels).

I’m going to stop here because I realize that this entry will quickly become nothing more than me posting my favorite images from this book if I don’t. Suffice it say, if you are a comic fan and love Alex Ross as much as I do (or are new to the comics world and would like to see some of the best that the best has to offer), then you need this book.

Final Verdict: Wow, I’m 5 for 5 this year. Guess it’s time to return to that anthology. Only 100 more pages to go…

But before I do, one more image. You know I can’t end this post without leaving you with Ross’s take on Wonder Woman, right? Especially with as unenthusiastic as I was about the artwork from The Circle. This should make it better:

BookBin 2011: Wonder Woman: The Circle

Still not ready to go back to my abysmal anthology. Sorry. I’m sure I’ll get back to it, if only to finish it and have a guilt-free conscience regarding the possibility that I might have missed anything decent before donating it. However, this time I was lured away from my misery by nothing less than a goddess.

Anyone who knows me even in a limited way knows that I have quite a thing for Wonder Woman. How can you not? Strong-willed, majestic, powerful, intelligent…admittedly possessing a questionable fashion sense, but still beautiful. Plus, she was once portrayed by Lynda Carter, who I have yet to encounter during my perambulations through the D.C. area…but one day, denizens. One day.

Sadly, however, I do believe that Wonder Woman regularly misses out on most of the fun that her male counterparts seem to find coming their way in ample supply. Regardless of the fact that she is one of the originals from the pantheon of DC Comics superhero royalty, she doesn’t seem to get much respect for that fact. While Superman and Batman continue to be remixed, remade, and remodeled in the movie world, Wonder Woman has yet to get even one shot at the big screen. She gets quite shafted in comic book stories as well.

Wait. That came out completely wrong.

What I meant was that…well, Wonder Woman’s stories have been pretty much hit or miss. Mostly miss though. Even a writer as respected as J. Michael Straczynski seems to be botching things badly with the recent reboot of the Amazon princess’s story (admittedly, I only read the first two issues of his run, but they made me frown in ways that threatened to add lines to places on my face that I’m not yet ready to have them).

Then there’s Gail Simone. I’ve known about Simone for a while. she’s the one who coined the phrase “Women in Refrigerators Syndrome” as a delightfully macabre (yet depressingly astute) way of describing the fate of most women in the male-dominated world of comic book superheroes. However, I had never read any of Simone’s work in the comic industry. For whatever reasons, her stories always slipped under my radar, even though I noted each time one of her anthologies was released for purchase and even added a few to my wishlist.

This past Christmas, I finally ended up with my very own copy of The Circle, the collected story arc that marked the beginning of Simone’s time as the longest-running female writer of the Wonder Woman comics. Apparently, Simone was brought in to take over after a unilaterally panned run by Allan Heinberg (I know very little of Heinberg’s comic writing prowess, but seeing that he has written for shows like Sex and the City and Grey’s Anatomy gives me a horrible NO feeling when it comes to my beloved princess of Themyscira).

According to several reviews that I read of this collection, Simone had quite a lot to fix in regard to the Wonder Woman storyline, including repairs to her origin (I believe, however, that this damage/alteration came from another comic series, Infinite Crisis, rather than anything perpetrated by Heinberg). I’m completely in the dark regarding whatever took place prior to the beginning of “The Circle” (including those ape warriors that Wonder Woman is fighting at the beginning, which left me feeling decidedly WTFish, but not so much so that I wanted to read the preceding storyline to figure them out…at least not right now). However, I have to say that I very much enjoyed what Simone did with Wonder Woman, including her revised take on how she came to be.

What’s more, I love how…real Wonder Woman becomes through Simone’s writing. Yeah, I know. Wonder Woman isn’t real. I haven’t completely lost my grip on reality. That doesn’t come for a few more years at least. What I mean is that Simone doesn’t make her version of Wonder Woman impervious to those little things that make her approachable, likable, respectable. Real. Simone’s Wonder Woman has a strong sense of being and purpose, without being limited to just these goals. She’s complex and funny, bold and passionate, disciplined and loyal. She’s also a goddess and behaves accordingly.

Even better? I love Simone’s take on Etta Candy, the oftentimes silly/sometimes tragic gal pal who has been an off again/on again part of Wonder Woman’s universe since the beginning (she was even in the first season of the Lynda Carter television show, played by Beatrice Colen). Simone depicts Etta as smart, skilled, and funny (but not in a derogatory or Falstaffian way). She’s a great counterbalance to Wonder Woman without being unnecessary (which, admittedly, is how I have viewed this character in other iterations). I still hate her name though.

I wish I could continue my praise for this collection beyond “The Circle.” However, I was far less impressed by the follow-up story, “The Expatriate.” First was the noticeable change in artwork. The primary artists for “The Circle” were Terry and Rachel Dodson, a husband/wife artist/colorist team. True, the artwork from “The Circle” was rather par for the course (with a few brilliant exceptions…there are a couple of gorgeous depictions of Wonder Woman that more than make the price of admission worth it). At no point did I ever feel like gushing in the unrepentantly fangirlish way that I continue to gush over the amazing work that J.H. Williams, III did for the Batwoman collection, Elegy. It was pretty much standard comic book artwork. Not a whole lot of wow.

However, for “The Expatriate,” the Dodsons were replaced by artist Bernie Chang. No mincing words here: I hate how he drew Wonder Woman, especially at the beginning of the story arc. Not only was her face jarringly different in appearance from how she looked in “The Circle,” she also seemed utterly devoid of any semblance of stature or power. Chang’s Wonder Woman possessed a vulnerability that was in no way flattering or favorable. I grew used to his depiction of her after a while, but the very beginning of this story was highly disappointing from a visual perspective. Plus, the story itself was rather mediocre, especially in comparison with the high note of Simone’s beginning run at the Wonder Woman mythology.

All in all, though, I was pleased by this collection. It was indeed a strong start to Simone’s work with the Grand Dame of the DC Universe (even if her follow-up story was decidedly less than stellar). I’ve already started looking at other collections of Simone’s Wonder Woman stories…so don’t be too surprised if you see her name appearing here again sometime soon.

And of course you won’t be surprised if Wonder Woman appears again. And again. And again. What can I say? I’ve got a thing for Greek princesses with black hair and blue eyes…

Final Verdict: Keep. Duh.

Flashback Friday: Speak & Spell

A long, long time ago in a blog post far, far away, I once told you about my very first computer. It was a Texas Instruments TI-99/4A console on which I first learned to type, to program, to Hunt the Wumpus.

No, that’s not a euphemism.

However, it was a different Texas Instrument that taught me how to spell:

This might possibly win the prize for sexiest use of primary-colored plastic (plus orange) known to man. Everything about the Speak & Spell was awesome: educational, fun, portable, relatively low-key, and not all that obnoxious…the perfect toy for an introverted only child with parents who liked to take long drives all along the East Coast. I’d settle in to the squeaky, sticky pleather of our Chevette’s back seat and wile away the hours and the miles, tapping out words on the alphabetically arranged raised buttons (this damned toy screwed me up for the longest time when I finally started trying to type…QWERTY? WTF is QWERTY?). Is it any wonder that I ended up always being in the annual spelling competitions during elementary school? Just think, if I’d gone to a public school, I might have made it all the way to the national spelling bee. I coulda been a contender!

Later iterations of the Speak & Spell came with pressure-sensitive flat panels rather than the raised buttons. I never liked those versions. I also never liked the Speak & Read or the Speak & Math. Speak & Math? More like Cruel & Unusual. Although perhaps if my parents had given me a Speak & Math rather than a Speak & Spell, I’d be a CSI now rather than a word nerd. Who knew that a toy could have such power over my destiny.

Yeah. And maybe if they’d given me Barbie instead of my talking K.I.T.T., I’d be Miss Freakin’ Congeniality right now. Thank the prophets for K.I.T.T. and Speak & Spell…that’s all I’m saying.

You know I still have my Speak & Spell, right? And it still works, still speaks in its groovy male computer voice. Still rewards me for correctly spelled words with its happy little digitized tune…still chastises failed spelling attempts with, “No! Try again.” Strangely enough, I don’t ever remember typing in naughty words when I was little. Weird, huh? That didn’t start until I got my hands on Dr. SBAITSO. But that’s for a completely different Flashback Friday…

http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/qM8FcN0aAvU?fs=1&hl=en_US