Tag: Superman

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.

It’s the Time of Year to Share Our Childhood Memories

This time of year is prone to dredge up memories of long ago tucked away in the recesses of one’s mind. I’m not quite certain it’s the holidays or perhaps that whole getting older and long-term memory that creates a sudden rush of childhood recollections.

I simply know that they are coming in droves.

Of course there is that desire to recapture earlier times spent with family and friends, laced with bittersweet emotions of loss and regret.

For myself living so far from my childhood home I find a lack of snow matters. No blanket of white feels as if an old friend that visited every season has deserted me in lieu of palm trees and blue skies.

Now believe me I’m not saying slipping and sliding along the streets in the cold and slush would be preferable, but there was something about falling snowflakes that just felt right.

I also seem focused on school around the holidays.

We strained at the bit to reach that last day before winter break when a teacher would dress up as Santa and pass out candy canes and Vernor’s Ginger Ale.

Our elementary school was named after James Vernor of the ginger ale company so they gifted us with their soda and candy canes each year.

Santa would be played by a teacher covered in a beard and of course we would whisper about who it might be as we waited in line for our treats.

Childhood seemed quite naïve and innocent so small moments were intensified and more special. We even believed hiding in the school basement under asbestos pipes would prevent an atom bomb from harming us. Silly, right?

Or that a wooden desk would hide us from a nuclear blast.  Either they didn’t know the truth or weren’t about to share it with all of us. Seems so foolish now.

Baby Boomers lived a life full of new discoveries. Television began small and black and white forcing us at times to strain to see the picture among snowy waves.

We used rabbit ear antennas on the television set covered with aluminum foil to enhance the signal as we moved them back and forth while our brother directed until the picture clarity was optimum.

Snowy or clear we rushed home to watch the Mickey Mouse Club and later American Bandstand. Our eyes transfixed on this new way to be entertained and transfixed.

I begged my mother to let me stay up and watch Milton Berle on Tuesday nights and still vividly remember the Texaco servicemen that started the show.

We had strange puppets like Rootie Kazootie and Howdy Doody with visible strings. We never minded or enjoyed them any less; in fact, being able to discern the strings was part of the fun. Every kid wanted to be part of the peanut gallery. Then, when a TV dinner on a metal tray table was added to the mix, it all seemed too perfect.

We even had party lines on the phone for a short time as the new technology was growing faster than the company could provide. Limiting use the phone to only certain times seems comical now when we can’t put it down for a minute.

Could you imagine kids today being told they had to share their phone with someone else? I believe it would lead to some violent revolution.

But to us it was a new magical instrument we were happy to have for any amount of time. A new way to broaden our horizons and communicate with friends.

There was no Google, only sets of Encyclopedias, no computers, only visits to the library branch nearest our homes.

We could spend a lazy summer afternoon reading and sharing comic books like Archie, Katy Keene or Superman with friends munching on snacks. Candy bars were two cents or a nickel and we drank cherry cokes or chocolate phosphates at soda counters served up by kids in white jackets and hats.

We played hopscotch, four square, jumped rope, played jacks and roller skated in metal skates with our key on a ribbon around our neck. Marbles clinked along the sidewalk and we traded movie star pictures cut out of fan magazines.

We ordered the scholastic books from school and couldn’t wait to read them when they arrived.

It seemed the smallest things were a big deal back then. Including rushing over to the first neighbor’s house on the block to own a color television.

Obviously, I’m waxing nostalgic about a time that is now gone forever. Our grandchildren are living in a new world filled with things we only read about in science fiction novels.

Technology that causes my eyes to glaze over as my kids or grandkids attempt to explain it to me.

Our children do battle to keep them innocent and away from the screens and kudos to them for doing so. Yet the world changes each day and new innovation is now moving at a faster pace than ever before.

I’m certain someday our grandchildren will look back on their childhoods with a sense of joy and wonder as we do, at least I hope so.

Was our innocence a good or bad trait? Were we blindsided a bit finding the future was often as scary as Orwell had predicted, or Flash Gordon was actually Neil Armstrong? Were we literally over the moon when man first landed there in front of our eyes?

Am I implying Baby Boomers don’t embrace this new world and its wonders? Heck no! We are all into it big time and enjoying the ride. It’s just nice to wax nostalgic at times and remember our innocence.

Each generation will experience new and uncharted roads to travel. I hope wonder and peace will continue to be a part of their journey. I know it was ours. As much as things change one thing never does…the smell of a turkey roasting in the oven on Thanksgiving. We can all be thankful for that.

Please share your memories with me, I’d love to hear them.