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Showing posts from January, 2006

Trapper Keeper: Mead's Answer to the Swiss Army Knife

Admit it: There was always a tiny spec of excitement you used to feel when heading out that day to buy your fresh, new school supplies every September. Sure, the feelings of dread, impending humiliation, exclusion and forced conformity took center stage when labor day rolled around, but a quick trip to Woolworth's or K-Mart would ease that pain for a moment. Of course, most of what you'd buy would become instantly obsolete: Multi-colored ball point pens, laminated college-themed book covers and that uber-geek pencil holder you'd never use. Amidst all those pencil-top erasers, translucent rulers and paint pens, the one central anchor of every school supply shopping list was the notebook and/or binder. Enter the Mead Trapper Keeper. In the early 80's, the Trapper Keeper was the Rolls Royce of binders. Forget that spiral bound crap, or that cromagnon denim-coated notebook, the Trapper was state of the art: A large, vinyl/plastic holder that folded open to reveal several ...

Sly Fox Goes All the Way--Into Oblivion

One of the great things about the 80's (and any other decade, for that matter), is the proliferation of "one-hit wonders" that became some of pop music's most memorable songs. Some of these tunes many know by heart: they can name the song/artist at the drop of a hat (Toni Basil's "Mickey"). Others, however, are songs that ignite an internal memory conflict in your brain rivalling "Total Recall": The all-too-familiar battle in which one part of you says, "dammit I kow this song--I used to love it!" and the other says "who the hell is this?"Of course, if you loved it so much, common sense would dictate you should know the artist--but such is not the case with one-hit wonders... and this is their devlish charm. In 1985, British producer Ted Currier assembled a pop/funk duo called "Sly Fox." The duo was made up of Gary 'Muddbone' Cooper, a former member of the iconic funk group Parliament, and a vocalist by t...

Tomy's Handheld Pac Man: A Forgotten Gem

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The 1980's spawned dozens of versions of the iconic arcade classic Pac Man: From mini-arcade tabetop, to home video game system, to electronic game watch. Some versions were way more popular than others, but each had it's own distinct charm. For example: While Coleco made the definitive tabletop/electronic iteration, there were quite a few handheld competitors that were pretty fun too. And, if you were one of the kids who had the "friend" who had the Coleco, you most certainly got attached to another version, usually out of jealousy. In 1981, Tomy released a version of the classic maze game called "TomyTronic Pac Man." This version was distinctive for several reasons: First of all, it had a striking, bright yellow circular casing that screamed Pac Man. The game screen itself was rather small compared to the size of the unit, but it was fairly bright and colorful. Lastly--and oddly--Pac Man could only actually EAT the dots (or "bait" as the ...

Duran Duran Makes Bond History... In a Film We'd Like to Forget

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I like to consider myself a bit of a James Bond aficionado. And while I don't own Odd Job's hat, a replica Walther PPK, or a shoe with a 3 inch switchblade in it (although that would be pretty cool)--I'm a huge fan of the franchise. However, unlike the usual "fanboy" type, I can realistically admit when something sucks--even when it's something one of my favorite characters appears in. In 1985, EON and UA released what is possibly the worst Bond film ever made: "A View to a Kill." (I say possibly because "Moonraker" is usually considered the worst). Whether it's the somewhat miscast geriatric Roger Moore (Filmed constantly with softening filters, and as stiff as a board), the stilted script, the vacuous Tanya Roberts, or the scene in which Grace Jones sleeps with Bond (Yikes!)--this film had it all. In short, the only notable things about "A View to a Kill" are Christopher Walken's bizarrely captivating performance as th...

What Exactly is a Neutron Dance?

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If you owned a radio in 1984, there were certain musical acts that you couldn't go 5 minutes without hearing. You know what we're talking about: Those long-lasting, uber-popular groups that released track after track of radio friendly goodness that seemed to remain in heavy rotation for half the decade. Think Duran Duran, Prince, Madonna, Michael Jackson and Whitney Houston. One act that fell squarely into this esteemed group of 80's icons was the Pointer Sisters--and one song that kept them there was the oddly-titled "Neutron Dance." You remember it: the thumping 80's synth lead-in, the infectious early-80's dance beat and the title that didn't make a lick of sense. In 1983, the talented sisters Pointer released a massive hit album by the name of "Break Out." In the years leading up to its release, they were already heavy hitters, scoring six convincing top ten hits on both the pop and R&B charts--a feat many acts would have been ha...

And What of Chess King?

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It's been said that the 80's were the decade of excess, and that was never more true in than in the explosion of specialty clothing stores on the retail landscape at the time. And while some of those stores survived until today, many fell to the fickle, stinging blade of the retail industry due to poor management and an overall lack of understanding fashion trends. One shining example of this fate was Chess King. For the uninitiated, Chess King was NOT a store for chess players or chess aficionados. Nor was it a store specializing in clothing WORN by chess players. In fact, one could say that anyone shopping at Chess King probably lacked the intelligence to play a game of Chess, but that's neither here nor there. The store was a specialty clothing outlet that sold men's and women's lines of "faux-upscale" 80's designer wear. More specifically, the cheesiest, sleaziest, ugliest and most eye-searing 80's clothes you could possibly find. Velc...