Tag: Bugs Bunny

Round One: Birth

You come on with it, come on

You don’t fight fair

But that’s okay, see if I care

Knock me down, it’s all in vain

I get right back on my feet again

Hit me with your best shot

Why don’t you hit me with your best shot

Hit me with your best shot

Fire away… from Hit Me With Your Best Shot, the Pat Benatar song.

Many songs have been written about the difficulties of existence. Love, hate, sex, every emotion that affects the human condition has been analyzed, examined, written and sung about.

I have noticed a huge difference in the way young people today are prepared for life as opposed to the Baby Boomer generation.

We didn’t have video games that taught us to shoot, fight demons or tackle extraordinary tasks.

We had Roy Rogers, Superman and Mickey Mouse as our leaders. We were taught snide and sarcastic by a little stinker of a rabbit called Bugs.  No one actually believed you could travel through space on Flash Gordon’s cardboard spaceship.

Superman jumping in the air to fly didn’t inspire us to jump off a roof. Or at least hopefully most of us.

And come on, although we laughed our asses off when Coyote fell off that cliff and was crushed by an anvil, we never believed it was real.

It was all fun, but did it teach us life skills? Well maybe to buy everything at Acme.

I understand that life was very different in our era. Sure there were bad guys and mobsters, but we knew there was also a real live Eliot Ness to battle them.

We were taught that despots would be destroyed by armies of soldiers battling evil. And win.

It was also very clear that Mickey Mouse had the power to make anything happen on Wednesdays.

Honestly in many ways we were ill-prepared for the challenges or the dangers we’d face. Still, although many of those came much later in life, we did learn very quickly how to fight.

When we were called to battle in Viet Nam it was a shock to the system of an entire generation. Sadly, we didn’t cope with that battle very well. Perhaps it was the lack of tools.

Maybe life is simple and people make it hard.

If everyone just took a minute to breathe and reflect on the things that would simplify one’s trials and tribulations. In just a short time it would become clear, sometimes we just need better equipment.

Can a builder construct a house without tools? Or a doctor operate without instruments? Could you bake Toll House cookies without chocolate chips? Outrageous!

We all do better when we have the right tools for the job at hand.

In life the job is often surviving. Overcoming obstacles and fighting demons, from within and without.

Can you imagine how much easier life would be if the doctor strapped boxing gloves on us at birth. We’d be ready to do battle from day one.

However, it is a long time for most of us before we have to do any serious fighting. Our parents usually intercede to be our protectors until we reach a certain age. And when we reach that age what survival skills have been honed?

Our lives have been colored by a comfortable bubble that has allowed us to grow and thrive.

We are fed, housed and loved until reality kicks in. At least that’s the hope.

Recent generations have been more alerted to life. They understand war at its grittiest because they play it online as an avatar. They know about attack on their own home turf after 9/11. They have a far different view of life than a generation that loved Casper the Ghost.

So is it a matter of preparation, or a matter of stealing childhood?

Are Baby Boomers better off because we were caught off guard by a war on the other side of the planet? Were we tough enough to rise to the challenge, or too weak and chose to march instead?

Does playing video games, watching violent television shows and living in more turbulent times toughen you up or make you want to run and hide?

It’s a bit ironic that young people today are so sensitive. You can’t say anything to them that offends or invades their space. Even with all their violent video games and movies.

Baby Boomers seemed able to laugh so much off and ignore the rest. When bad came to our door we’d hide behind our parents and let them handle it. But when they didn’t, we had to and did.

So was ease and pampering simply a good way to make us feel secure and capable? Did we need to play at killing to rise up to the occasion?

Are heroes born or allowed to become?

Baby Boomers in some ways seemed idealistic and ill-prepared for parts of life that arose suddenly without warning. Still, we seemed to find the strength somewhere.

Are young people today any tougher or stronger for their games and toys?

Does being aware of the world make you any more adept at taking it on?

Truly I don’t think so.

Wearing boxing gloves doesn’t make you Mohammed Ali. And killing monsters on Xbox doesn’t help you defeat the real-life ones.

So what are the real tools we need to do battle?

The same that have always existed. Strength, determination, brains, fortitude and mostly a great sense of humor.

Because in the end laughter makes it less scary and shrinks problems down to a size you can conquer.

So, laugh it up guys and fasten your seat belts cause the craziness that is life isn’t going to change anytime soon.

Because as they say, whoever this they is, “it’s not how you start, but how you finish that matters.”

Wishing you all some overflowing tool boxes.

What the Heck is a Magic Twanger, Froggy?

We all grow up with idols. I imagine who or what we choose to emulate is a reflection of our character.

So here goes and please don’t judge me.

My favorite TV personality growing up in the fifties was, drum roll please…Froggy the Gremlin from Andy’s Gang.  Hiya, Kids Hiya Hiya. Words to live by I say.

Yes, Baby Boomers were lucky to grow up with such a brilliant and hysterical array of puppets and unforgettable characters.

Although I loved Howdy Doody, Rootie Kazootie, White Fang and Black Tooth, Kukla Fran and Ollie and all the others, Froggy the Gremlin from Andy’s Gang holds a special place in my heart.

“Why?” you ask.

Who couldn’t love a frog with a deep bass voice in a suit? One who drives everyone around him crazy and gets them tearing their hair out, and screaming while you roar with laughter?

Top that off with a black cat named Midnight that says nothing except “nice” and plays musical instruments badly. Hello, pure perfection.

The sponsor was even a little strange. Some kid with a pageboy and a dog announcing,

“That’s my dog Tige, he lives in a shoe.

I’m Buster Brown look for me in there too.”

The show followed a pretty straightforward formula. Andy Divine was the host who welcomed you each week singing the sage words:

You Got a Gang

I got a gang.  

Everybody’s got to have a gang.

But there’s only one real gang for me, Good old Andy’s gang.

It all seemed pretty harmless to me. But of course, our generation was nothing if not innocent.

There was also a short film mostly starring Gunga the Jungle Boy. He rode an elephant and had adventures.

Then there may be a musical number, but the highlight was always Froggy driving his music teacher, Pasta Fazooli, and everyone crazy. He’d twist and add to their words to completely change the meaning and make them look stupid.

By the time Froggy was done they were tearing their hair out and running screaming off the stage. Froggy just laughed evilly.

Okay, so what was so funny about that you ask?

I believe this is the same generation that thought that anything bought from Acme and used by Coyote was the funniest thing of life?

And most still do.

So did we have a warped sense of humor? Or was there something we missed in the violence and nastiness? Did this lead to aggressive behavior?  What is so funny about a frog creating chaos? Driving people to distraction and freaking out while a frog breaks into fits of laughter at their pain.

Could you ever imagine Big Bird slamming the lid down on Oscar’s head? Or Bert stealing Cookie Monster’s cookies? Or Kermit making Elmo cry?

Couldn’t happen.

I see irony here. After all Baby Boomers marched against war, despite the carnage they found so hilarious.

Seriously, Coyote falling off a cliff with an anvil aiming for his head? And don’t forget that dumb look on his face. Priceless.

Despite the fact we watched the Untouchables, Froggy Gremlin driving people out of their minds, Bugs creating havoc for everyone around him and Acme selling explosives, I thought we abhorred violence.

We marched against a war and made Peace, Love and Rock and Roll the watchwords of our generation.

We were Woodstock, The Chicago Seven and flower children. If true, how were we affected by the violence we found so uproariously funny?

“Watching violence in movies and on television is potentially harmful to your child. As early as the 1960s, studies reported that watching violence can make children more aggressive.”

This is what the experts claimed.

Still, is it true? It doesn’t seem to make any sense at all.

I always turn my head away from the horse head in the bed scene every time I watch The Godfather. And I have watched it a lot.

Were we being brainwashed to accept pain and destruction as commonplace? I never felt that way, but perhaps I was naïve.

Was Froggy the inspiration for Jedi mind control. After all what is different about Froggy changing the meaning of someone’s sentence and Luke saying “You will take me to Jabba?”

Was pluck your magic twanger, Froggy some sort of secret code for brainwashing?

Have the CIA and Mossad adopted it to use on terrorists?

How could anyone accuse Midnight the Cat, whose every word was “Nice,” of exhibiting aggressive behavior?

Let’s get real here. Do you really believe Baby Boomers were affected by Ming the Merciless when Flash Gordon chased him through space on his cardboard rocket ship?

Or wanted to emulate Superman when he hit the bad guy a foot away from his face?

For heaven’s sake people, have you forgotten about Lassie and Timmy?

Yes, I agree Viet Nam changed us. We were greatly upset by the Chicago Democratic Convention of 1968. No doubt about the horror we all felt watching the brutal violence against our peace efforts.

Yet no one can ever convince me that Froggy, Bugs or Yosemite Sam created a generation of violence-prone adults. Did we all grow up to be the Three Stooges?

Perhaps we were an angry generation, I’ll give you that one.

War, Watergate, John, Martin and Robert assassinations, drugs, the loss of innocence, all contributed to a feeling of frustration and hopelessness. But violence? I just can’t see it.

Yet, if I’m wrong about the impact, I’m not about the need for the laughter.

I admit our taste was a bit juvenile. But Froggy and his magic twanger (whatever that is) or Acme’s weapons list seemed to provide great laughs. After all Punch and Judy are older than dirt.

Can laughter be a bad thing? No one will ever convince me it can.

If you say it is I’ll get really angry with you and…

Never mind. Have a nice day.

The Zen of Mr. Ed and Wise and Wascally Wabbits

My brother loved cowboys. Roy Rogers, The Lone Ranger and Tonto, and of course Marty’s favorite, Hopalong Cassidy.

I myself preferred Rin Tin Tin. Every time I heard the words “Yo Rinty” my ears perked up and I felt like chasing bank robbers. When Rin Tin Tin came after you it was no contest. He was always a hero.

Then Mr. Ed came along of course.

Yes, I watched Mr. Ed. Did I believe a horse could talk, no. Although he did sound so authentic. But it wasn’t that Mr. Ed was a talking horse that made him fun. It was what he said. Let’s face it, if Ed was an intellectual saying stuff like E=MC squared (I don’t know how to type squared) that would be boring. Even if the words were coming out of his ass.

So it wasn’t the talking angle that captured viewers. It was the mouth on him. He reeked with sarcasm and because he was a horse, pulled it off. People couldn’t say what Ed said. No way. But from him…pure gems. The ruder and more demanding he was, the more entertaining the show. And Wilbur just went along for the ride. Literally. Ed had no filter and the subjects were universal.

On being a household pet: “If you had a dog, you’d let him sleep in the house… Then call me ‘Rover’ and wake me at eight.”

Food: “Stop gabbin’ and get me some oats!”

A simple life: “Well, time to hit the hay…oh I forgot, I ate it!”

Ed on fashion: “I’ll wear it till it goes out of style. Then I’ll eat it!”

He was demanding, sarcastic and always lording his superior intelligence over poor Wilbur.

One of my favorite episodes was when Mr. Ed was reading the morning stock reports in the paper and said he was glad his money is tied up in hay.

He then began a dialogue about his lack of financial security and what would happen to him post Wilbur. What if his wife Carol married a horse hater? Watching him question Wilbur about his will was brilliant. Hey, even a horse has to have something to retire on! Maybe it was Mr. Ed that subconsciously influenced our decisions to start an IRA.

Okay so the humor isn’t Seinfeld, but what did we know?  Even Larry David had to start somewhere. To us sophisticated humor was Milton Berle dressed as a woman. Or the three stooges, I will say no more.

Of course there was nothing odd to us about talking animals. After all, if you grew up in Detroit you ate lunch every day with Black Tooth, White Fang, Willie da Worm and Pookie the lion.

To be honest they were far superior to many people I’ve had to dine with in my life. There have been times I would’ve much preferred listening to Black Tooth kissing Soupy, than conversing with the person sitting across the table from me.

Seriously, can anyone top Soupy asking White Fang if he took a bath and White Fang answering “why, is one missing?” I still laugh.

Or when White Fang was chasing a rabbit and shot it and Soupy said, “Oh well, Hare today, Gone Tomorrow.” Do not mock me…just watch this Soupy moment on a day you need a laugh and tell me you aren’t hysterical. Here’s the cyber land address, or whatever it’s called https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fv9Rr6zPZuE.

When one thinks about it, we actually started believing animals talked with fairy tales and of course there was Jiminy Cricket.

Yep, a cricket that wore a top hat, carried an umbrella and sang When You Wish Upon a Star. I still wish on stars. Oh sure, like you don’t. And I still clap for fairies, too. Tinkerbell counted on us.

Rocky and Bullwinkle. Iconic and the whole Boris and Natasha thing, too funny. Who didn’t love Dudley Do Right or Peabody’s Improbable History? I’ll give you two to one odds even Peabody could never have seen this future coming.

We had Mickey Mouse and his club. Yes, I was a Mousketeer. Winnie the Pooh and his big tummy. Somebody needed Ozempic.

There is no way I could ever write about talking animals without mentioning one of the greatest of all time. The king of sarcasm, the greatest stinker of all, the irascible and inimitable Bugs Bunny. The wascally wabbit himself.

Who couldn’t love him watching him dress as a woman to fool the Tasmanian Devil? Always outwitting Elmer Fudd, and Elmer was the one toting a gun! Funny when you think about it there was a lot of violence in those cartoons, hello roadrunner. Yet, perhaps because it was a cartoon we never equated it with any reality. Today I suspect it wouldn’t pass the PG13 seal of approval.

Bugs was not only the best, he was a step ahead at all times and we loved him for it. There was Zen in Bugs. His wit, his guts, his brain taught us one of life’s great lessons…brain beats brawn anytime.

The whole crew was wonderful, Daffy Duck, and poor Sylvester whose mouth was always watering for the Tweety Bird. If you think about it animals brought us a wealth of laughter and a lot of wisdom to boot.

They are and were such a positive part of our lives. Still today kids are watching and enjoy new generations of talking canines, rabbits, dragons, pussycats and numerous other species.

I personally believe this is one of the foundations for growing up compassionate and kind.

Loving animals, feeling as though they are friends and being entertained by them.  Learning this at a young age has always and always will be an enjoyable and important lesson.

So if you’re having a bad day, watch YouTube. All the old shows are on there and I guarantee the kid in you will still be singing along. M-I-C-K-E-Y-M-O-U-S-E.

What is Heaven and Am I Going?

What is Heaven and Am I Going?

So, there is a commercial on television now with some guy asking me if I’m going to heaven. How do you answer that question?

I guess I’d have an easier time if I knew for sure there actually is a heaven. Or what heaven is if it does exist.

How do I know if I want to go there if I don’t know what I’m signing up for? Didn’t your mother teach you to read everything before signing?

Cause now that we are watching this insane world you have to wonder; what is everyone’s version of heaven and whose do you want to go to?

I mean I have certain criteria here for how I’d like to spend the afterlife. I don’t mean to be snobby about this, but if I’m going to be in a place for all eternity, I’m not spending my days listening to politicians. 

I definitely don’t want to have to watch award programs and listen to hosts doing unfunny monologues and see Robert De Niro’s pissed off looks when Robert Downey Jr. wins instead of him.

Can you imagine having to spend eternity  listening to Oprah talk about her weight loss issues, car salesmen saying let me check with my manager and see if I can make that deal or watching Nancy Pelosi getting more Botox injections?

I want to go someplace where refrigerators are always fully stocked with unhealthy foods, your stomach is always empty and fat cells don’t exist.

Can someone promise me I won’t have to make a bed, wash a floor or clean a toilet?

A place where there is no traffic, the only newscasters are Huntley and Brinkley and Walter Cronkite and John Kennedy will actually tell me how many bullets really did kill him.

Where all the property is on the water, there are no UV rays and you can walk halfway across the ocean and find a sandbar to sunbathe on. Oh, and the fish are all no longer than 10 inches and in neon colors.

Where pina coladas flow all day and no one gets drunk, where children can play outside anywhere, anytime and no one would ever hurt them and you can pull apart monkey bread without getting your hands sticky.

A place where everything for sale that you want is always equal to the amount of money you’re carrying, chocolate chip cookies are always warm and coming out of the oven next to fresh cold milk, and you can have Thanksgiving any or every day you want with only the relatives you can stand.

Where Santa delivers 24/7 and the temperature is always a perfect 72 degrees with no rain or snow in sight. And the chocolate fountains on every corner are always flowing.

Where your cell phone never runs out of juice, and old Mickey Mouse Club shows and Bugs Bunny, Road Runner and Tweety and Sylvester cartoons are always playing, and Clarabell can talk.

A place where no one says anything nasty or mean to anyone else, where people say thank you and excuse me, and Harry and Meagan are not allowed to write books about how terrible life is in the palace.

A place where babies never cry because their needs are instantly met, where no one is judged by their skin color or religion and anyone who threatens to take over the world has to go back down and live in it again. 

There must be a sign at the gates of my heaven that reads, no politicians or members of Congress, assholes, or haters allowed and there is a no tolerance policy for those who mistreat others.

If a heaven exists with those features, I might be enticed to buy a ticket. 

However, since everyone has their own idea of what heaven or hell entails, I don’t want to get on the wrong train and wind up in the hell where Hamas gets its 72 virgins. 

I imagine my heaven train would be in a special station like the one to Hogwarts, where you have to go to a certain wall and push your stuff through or oops, no entrance for you.

So, in answer to the question, are you going to heaven, I’d have to say I’m not rushing to sign up like it’s a time share opportunity in Cabo.

When I’m sure what I’m in for, I’ll sign on the dotted line. Until then I’m still down here on earth, hell or whatever the name for this place is now. 
Maybe the question this guy on TV should be asking is; “Are you ready to turn earth into heaven by living like you’re already there?”

Now that’s a question I could easily answer?

The Tao of the Baby Boomer

The Tao of the Baby Boomer

Yes it’s true I write a great deal about getting older. Usually I try to include humor in my tirades just to ease the pain a bit, but lately I find myself at a loss about how to stem the tide of gray hair, muscles morphing into fat and turning up the television sound at regular intervals.

Oh sure we all share the same trials and tribulations about the passing years and I’ve often thought that the Baby Boomer generation, who I believe, and more so every day was one of the smartest groups to populate the earth, should have some answers. 

However, as I meditate on the past and the idols we all shared I’m coming up a bit empty on the whole self-help front. What exactly should we have learned from the childhood icons we spent our time watching and adoring?

I’m starting with Clarabell. Don’t mock yet, for in thinking about this silent clown who preferred to communicate though a horn I have discovered so much wisdom my mind truly boggles.

First and foremost to my knowledge no one ever told us why he honked instead of talking like regular people.

So was it to promote silence? Nope, don’t think so since that damn horn was noisy and annoying. I’d rather he spout Shakespeare than keep violating my ears with that racket, so what did we learn here? Or perhaps should have learned?

Perhaps Clarabell was trying to teach us that sometimes we can communicate without the need for words. A smile, a beep, a wink or a hand gesture, and I think we all know that a hand gesture can indeed speak volumes, can suffice when communicating our thoughts.

Did he also want us to learn that we need to look behind the mask and make up human beings may use to cover up their feelings at times and see the real person? That digging deeper is sometimes a true act of charity when someone needs our help. So was the message wasted? How many of us have sought to determine whether or not someone is truly hurting when they portray a mask of unkindness to the world? Have we reached out and learned Clarabell’s lesson or merely walked away when we could have helped?

Of course most importantly is the lesson of silence. How many times have we spoken and regretted our words? How many times have we kept silent and made a greater impact? Many I assume. I know I have.

I could never speak of idols without including the great Bugs Bunny. Oh the lessons here were too numerous to mention, but one of my very favorites was wearing a mask to achieve our ends in life? No, I haven’t lost it altogether, although I admit I’m pretty close after watching the news this morning. If you will reach back into your memory banks and visualize Bugs in red lipstick and a bear trap in his mouth seductively stopping the Tasmanian Devil in his steps, you will agree that sometimes make up can do wonders. No, I don’t mean in the sense we can stop a mugger by applying lipstick, but that when we face the world both friends and adversaries, oftentimes it is necessary to wear a different face in diverse situations. We must morph into that which will achieve our ultimate goal and secure what we are seeking. In other words knowing our opponent is a special power that one might even call a super power if, we are Marvel fans.

Whether it is to close a multi-million dollar deal or simply convince a salesperson to return a sweater that pilled too quickly, our superpower is in knowing how to handle others. Thank you, Bugs. Of course it is also obvious that a little lipstick and great haircut will do wonders for seducing the opposite sex, and we probably have the Bugmeister to thank for that lesson. If he can stop the Tasmanian Devil, we can secure a second date.

American Bandstand’s lesson is an easy one, you can actually dance your troubles away and Dick Clark had found the Fountain of Youth. Although the dancing part gets a bit sketchy when you’re recovering from that knee replacement.

No list of learning would be complete without the Mickey Mouse Club. So what did we learn from the people with the mouse ears? So much. For example did you know Wednesday is anything-can-happen day? Every week I couldn’t wait for Wednesday and although I watched diligently the other four days, it was the excitement of not knowing what might happen that kept me glued to the old black and white TV set. 

This was a truly important lesson that I have carried with me my entire life. For if we’ve learned nothing from our stay on this planet it is that there is no knowing, no magic power that can prepare us for what is to come. This is the yin and yang that truly defines life. For it is the thrill of the unknown paired with the fear of tomorrow that makes life so seductive. Will tomorrow be a better day or bring more problems?Will I laugh or cry when the sun rises and am I the one who ultimately determines which that will be?

Perhaps a bit of both I say.

How many people have visited a psychic and the first thing they say is, “don’t tell me anything bad.” Ah, so there are conditions on us knowing the future after all. 

So anything can happen day is a double-edged sword. Of course on the Mickey Mouse Club it was always something fun, but in real life we’ve learned perhaps not so much all the time.

Of course there are many more examples of the Tao of the Baby Boomer or as the Mandalore put it, “This is the Way.” I shall continue to write about them from time to time and I’d love to hear from readers as well about, so please write.

In the end growing old is nothing to joke about, or is it? Is this what we have learned from all the upbeat icons of the past after all? Is it our responsibility to take the knowledge of the past and find some comfort and often much humor in what has come before?

What lessons can we embrace each day to better our lives?

First, don’t watch the news. Call a friend each day and laugh together. Count five things we are grateful for and damnit, I don’t care what anyone says, eat chocolate! I sometimes go on YouTube and pull up the acts of my favorite comedians and just sit and laugh. It does actually help and if you have some chocolate while you’re laughing, well I believe they call that achieving nirvana.

I truly believe there is no magic bullet for aging despite all those who profess to know the answers, but I do know that sharing the creaking bones, anemic metabolism and every new wrinkle with friends helps. And when you’re having a really bad day just remember what Clarabell always said…