HAPPY THANKSGIVING

I'm bored, so here's my annual Thanksgiving story. It helps if you know a bit about the history of Taunton -- and the fact that I'm never EVER serious. Apologies if you got this last year.

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As usual, on Monday, I accidentally fell into a temporal distortion caused by a black hole and got sent back to 1621. I really, really hate when that happens -- especially on half price pizza day. I get ornery when I miss Half Price Pizza Day.

It took me a moment, but I was able to get my bearings, and suddenly realized I was in ancient Taunton -- right after I tripped over a pot hole.

I headed down to the Green. At least it looked like the Green. There was an elderly Indian maiden holding a sign with a biblical quote declaring Chief Samoset evil incarnate, and a small group of tattooed settlers on ponies lounging about.

As it normally happens to most time travelers, I immediately bumped into the two most important people from that era -- Chief Massasoit of the Wampanoag tribe and William Bradford of the Mayflower colony. Both had taken a day trip down from Plymouth to get away from the wives.

I moved in closer to eavesdrop. Not surprisingly, as is common to all time travelers as well, both spoke perfect 2011 English, the only difference beng one called it Tawn-ton and the other called it Tarn-ton.

Massasoit was clearly upset. “Look, Billy, I know your people are lousy farmers, but you gotta stop stealing our grain and shooting our critters!”

“Sorry, Chief. But we’re starving here! Christopher Jones has even begun setting traps for Myles’ poodle!”

That answer didn't seem to calm the old Indian. “Heck, you’re even starting to piss off poor Squanto, who’s thinking of sending smoke signals to your wife about that afternoon you guys
spent in Provincetown. Something has to be done!”

This is where I jumped in.

“Look, fellas. I got a great idea. Bill, you know how you guys spend every Thursday in mid-week prayer session??”

Bradford’s eyes rolled. “yeah, that was another of Myles’ great ideas. He figured it’d be a good way to try get everyone together and try to sell tickets to a booze cruise aboard the Mayflower.”

“And … uh … Mass … can I call you Mass? You know how you’ve run out of space for all that excess food you’ve been storing up for the winter?”

“Yeah, I really miss using my spare teepee for poker night …”

“Well, how about you guys throw a huge party instead this week? You can start by watching the Macy’s parade, sitting down to a great feast of turkey, stuffing, and pumpkin pie with both tribes, then settling back and watching some football!”

Both men just stared at me. I’d forgotten forks, ovens, football – not to mention Macy’s and the entire city of New York – hadn’t been invented yet.

I could see they were deciding who’d get the honor of chasing me away, when, luckily yet another distortion in the space-time continuum sucked me back to modern day Taunton.

But I’m firmly convinced it was me – yup, me – that gave them the idea of Thanksgiving.

And I'm pretty sure that’s the reason the cats have ceded the stalking duties over to the turkeys.

Fame has its price.

Remembering Sputnik

Cobbled together while reading 50 year old newspapers, this is one I probably should have finished and sold. My apologies for the lack of a cohesive presentation!

54 years ago today, on October 3, 1957, Sputnik 1, the first artificial satellite, was launched, the result of years of development by Soviet engineer Sergei Korolev, its chief designer.

Satellites obviously have a high reproductive rate. At last count, according to one source, there are currently 29,493 objects being tracked in near earth orbit!! This includes not only the satellites and their booster rockets, but a whole bunch of assorted space junk, including spare nuts and bolts.

For those of you not even born at that time, you might be wondering just how big an event the Sputnik launch was.

Its probably one of three days when 1950's baby boomers remember exactly where they where when the news broke -- the other two events being the assassination of JFK and that "one small step for 'A' man" incident.

If Sputnik had never launched, we wouldn't have had an entire era of communism paranoia that included huge sales of bomb shelters and the Bay of Pigs. More importantly, NASA and all that followed, including Tang, and the current state of weather forecasting and communications couldn't have happened. And the US government also wouldn't have shoved billions into science education in the decade that followed.

It was an event that mass media leaped upon with vigor.

TV Guide from November 30, 1957 lists a wide range of Sputnik-centric projects, from the rushed "Mars and Beyond" animated special from Walt Disney with lots of animation [and the world's dumbest looking 10-legged Martian Banth from Edgar Rice Burroughs' John Carter of Mars] to a CBS Close-Up program called Conquest, hosted by Eric Sevareid.

The launch also inspired writer Herb Caen to coin the term "beatnik" in an article about the Beat Generation in the San Francisco Chronicle on April 02, 1958, a mere 6 months later. [a story for another time ...]

Science fiction writer Isaac Asimov made the courageous decision to quit both teaching and writing SF full time, to dedicating himself to writing nonficion designed to educate the American public and public speaking. [his reactions are described in his autobiography In Joy Still Felt; he also has a lengthy letter in If: Worlds of Science Fiction from June, 1958 dealing with the Russian Sputnik program]. Reporters at the time had great fun with a sign Isaac had on his desk that read "They Said It Couldn't Be Done!"

Fellow writer Arthur C Clarke, in Barcelona at an International Astronautical Federation, at the time said the event "reduced the US to a second rate power". His quotes were paired in newspaper articles to balance statements by Eisenhower who insisted the launch was "no big deal".

The government's own actions, contrary to Eisenhower's public statements, proved they believed otherwise, however. Project Scoop, for years a serious program to "net" a returning satellite before it crashed to earth, was used to examine the possibility of capturing Sputnik when it fell to earth, since our military leaders suspected it of being a spy platform. At least one general argued for funds to send up a camera immediately to follow the satellite closely [but this was a last gasp public relations campaign to perpetuate the belief that US technology was leaps and bounds beyond the Soviets]

Science fiction writer Harry Harrison, just returning from LonCon I, the first international science fiction convention, with a host of other SF notatables when the news hit, suddenly found new markets and a decade long gig writing Flash Gordon for King Features, thanks to editor Sy Byck's search for 'realistic' outer space stories. Fritz Leiber likewise began writing Buck Rogers in response to the Dille's desire to do the same for their flagship comic strip feature.

TV hastily gave us an intelligent MEN INTO SPACE series with Jerome Bixby, later best known as a Star Trek novelist, as one of the writer. Movies gave us THE BLOB [of course], the FIRST MAN INTO SPACE, WAR OF THE SATELLITES and a whole lot more.

In his collection Danse Macabre from 1980, Stephen King relates how he sat in an audience of excited young people in a movie house showing Earth vs. The Flying Saucers, when the film was interrupted and the house manager made an announcement that the Russians had put a space satellite in orbit around the earth, called Sputnik. "We sat there," King says, "in absolute tomblike silence." This sudden terrifying intrusion of a world of adult political drama and potential doom, in the midst of science-fiction fantasy, made a powerful impression upon the 10-year-old.

And in Taunton, Massahusetts, this spoiled kid, addicted to such things as Flash Gordon and Asimov's Lucky Starr, whined a whole lot and ended up with a $300 telescope on the following Monday. I recall watching a blinking light in the sky [that I later learned was Sputnik's booster rocket instead] and listening to the Road Runner-ish "beep beep" it broadcast on a neighbor's ham radio.

That beep-beep was appropriate, since elsewhere the US rocket program was being compared to Wile Coyote's Acme Supply Company.

In the magazine Amazing Science Fiction for March, 1958, editor John W. Campbell's editorial chastised Americans for their satellite-launching failures and grudgingly praised the Russians for its Sputnik success. The August, 1958 issue gave us the informative essay "It Started with Sputnik" by Bertram A. Chandler.

*OUR* German rocket scientist Wernher von Braun (the Russians had their own team of captured German scientists) suddenly became a media darling. Life Magazine followed its October 14, 1957 issue [which ran the "Soviet Satellite Sends U.S. into a Tizzy"] with a November 18, 1957 cover "starring" Von Braun. He also "starred" in the aforementioned Walt Disney special along with fellow German refugee and SF / pop science writer Willy Ley. Strangely, I couldn't find any quotes by later media darling Ray Bradbury in any newspaper or magazine until nearly 18 months later.

National Geographic for December, 1957 took a break from its anthropological endeavors to run "How Man-made Satellites Can Affect Our Lives" by Joseph Kaplan, the former U.S. Director of efforts during the International Geophysical Year of 1956.

John Christopher -- later best known for his War of the Worlds pastiche The Tripods Trilogy -- ran a widely syndicated article detailing the anticipated steps that would lead us (or them) from Sputnik to the moon.

Another SF writer and editor, G. Harry Stine, who reportedly lost his high level job testing rockets at the White Sands Proving Ground because of his "I told you so!" stance, wrote "Sputnik: One Reason Why We Lost" for the January, 1958 issue of the Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction.

Writer L Sprague de Camp was interviewed at the time, and he explained that the idea of an earth satellite could be traced back to the Greeks, specifically Aristophanes.

But he could also have pointed to a 17th-century clergyman who drew up plans for a spaceship powered by wings, springs and gunpowder, perhaps the first "serious" attempt at a manned flight to the Moon. Dr John Wilkins, scientist, theologian and brother-in-law of Oliver Cromwell wrote a detailed description of the machinery needed in 1640. According to him, the gravitational and magnetic pull of the Earth extended only 20 miles and if it were possible to get airborne and pass beyond this point, it would be easy to continue to the Moon. [By the 1660s, the idea began to fall apart with the work of Robert Boyle and Robert Hooke, who demonstrated the nature of the vacuum that would stretch between the Earth and the Moon.]

Here's some links to articles I found:

Boston Globe on Sputnik’s 50th Anniversary - http://tinyurl.com/2uh7jm

Associated Press on the 50th Anniversary - http://tinyurl.com/2ytjc2

Arthur C. Clarke: Remembering Sputnik - http://www.spectrum.ieee.org/oct07/5584

Lost in LOST -- Men In Trees

The good thing about the two-word "home work" is that I get to multitask. So it’s just like in those long ago days when I did the one-word "homework": there's some electronic device belching forth decadent sounds and images into at least part of my consciousness, while the rest of it is engaged in a respectable activity.

And so it goes that over the last few weeks I've rewatched 4 seasons of LOST in preparation for the new season.

I've even seen a new commercial where Hurley is carrying a gun. HURLEY! The man who sees more dead people than Haley Joel Osment and who, when last threatened, reached for a fully loaded VW bus as his weapon of choice! They damn well better have a good reason for turning him into a mini-Rambo or I'm heading to wherever writer J J Abrahms hangs and pelting him with harsh words.

But my viewing marathon has put many theories into my head, some of which I'll share today, and maybe some later. My track record on this is just so-so, and I haven't yet paper-listed the reasons why I think Vincent the dog is the true island mastermind, so take everything here with a grain of salt. Following the Gospel According to St. Buddy too closely will just get you into trouble.

Lesson #1 -- beware men in trees! They're always up to no good! If someone doesn't pop up out of a hole or crash on a beach, they're most likely wishing our heroes dead!

There's a whole litany of ghosts, doppelgangers and imaginaries that crawled out of the forests. Jack first saw his dad in the trees. And the smoke monsters never leave the trees. We even first saw both Jack and Vincent in the forest! I'm fairly certain Jack is one of the good guys, but I'm warning you -- Vincent's an evil mastermind!

The most obvious MIT [Man in Tree] is the former Henry Gale, now better known as Benjamin Linus, once leader of the Others, and presently a globe-hopping manipulator of the rich and famous. We first saw him hanging from a hot air balloon, a ruse to get him into the confidence of our hapless survivor's camp.

Linus has Special Forces skills, a poker face that would make him a natural at Texas Hold 'Em, and no redeeming social graces that we know of. He also seems to have been transported 10 months into the future and stranded in the Sahara Desert as punishment for following Jacob's orders to move the island. [just an aside here -- I refuse to believe, despite events that involve Ben, Daniel and Desmond, that there's a real time machine involved. That creates more logistic problems than it solves; they could then just send our castaways back in time to the airport and they could chose to get on the plane or not. The only real mystery a time machine solves is why Richard Alpert is apparently the same age in all events depicted from 1986 to the present. With Ben, I think he was frozen for nearly a year and thawed out in the Sahara. That scenario still requires non-existent technology, and also the involvement of outside forces, likely the Smoke Monsters or their controllers, but creator Abrahms did something similar on ALIAS]

Two more of the Others came out of the trees to infiltrate the survivor's camps -- Ethan Rom and Goodwin. Their purpose was to create lists of names and observe, even though their tasks seemed somewhat unnecessary since Mikhail was shown canvassing the flight manifest and then tapping world wide databases for information on the passengers.

And that leaves 2 other MIT introductions, both of who have motives I believe haven't been revealed yet.

The first is Seth Norris, the pilot that crashed Oceanic Flight 815 on the island. He replaced Frank Lapidus in the flight crew at the last minute, and the poor guy was immediately killed by the Smoke Monster when he popped his head out the cockpit.

I boldly suggest that it was Seth’s mission to get these castaways to the island. We've already seen how all our characters lives are intertwined and apparently chosen by the island forces to be on that flight. If so, rather than leaving their destination to chance, a Hanso [probably] operative delivered the goods.

Plus his death was odd. Usually the Smoke Creature judged its victims before killing them or sparing them [Mr. Eko twice, Juliet]. In the case of Mayhew, one of the men from the freighter, whatever Ben had done in the tunnel caused the monster to kill him, so that doesn’t fully count.

So then why was Norris killed? I suspect that he somehow failed in his mission -- perhaps both plane sections were supposed to be together or there were too many survivors -- and was punished by the Island, much like Ben's later banishment into the Sahara.

That gets me to my favorite MIT -- Bernard Nadler. Sam Anderson is too recognizable as a character actor to be wasted in a minor role. And he was found sitting in a tree still strapped in his seat, fer chrissakes. Just like Ben!

But more importantly -- he's the *only* remaining survivor from the tail section not killed nor taken by the Others! [awww ... I miss Mr. Eko!] He's also one of two current characters -- Sun is the other -- not yet shown face-to-face with Ben.

And, besides, he's a friggin’ dentist. I hate friggin’ dentists!

I think he's been a plant since he first met Rose in the snow. He's outwardly motivated by a desire to save Rose from her cancer -- which is why he'd be in league with the island forces -- but I still haven't figured out his true motives.

So, your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to figure out why Seth was killed and what Bernard is up to. Since he's a MIT, you can be sure it’s no good.

But I'm still keeping an eye on Vincent. That mutt knows more than he's letting on!

Next time, when the spirit moves me: what Shakespeare and Leslie Neilsen have taught us about Smoke Monsters.

How to Write a Bestseller

After my last blog entry on Christmas movies, I was gently taken to task by a couple of my correspondents. To quote one: 'you forgot the best [holiday] movie of all time -- A Christmas Story.' Her comments were generously even accompanied by the requisite movie quotation: "You'll shoot your eye out kid. Ho...Ho...Ho." as spoken by a very scary Santa.

And I have to admit, sheepishly, that I *did* forget about it, not having watched it in over a decade. I'm not sure what movie I'd bounce from my top 10 list to shoehorn it in, but it certainly deserved inclusion.

But what made my momentary lapse even more disconcerting is that I've been a big fan of the 'Christmas Story' writer and narrator, Jean Shepherd, since his syndicated 15-minute radio segments in the early 1980's. Even our Festivus muse Jerry Seinfeld says on his Season 6 DVD set: "He really formed my entire comedic sensibility. I learned how to do comedy from Jean Shepherd." And as further proof, please note that the first name of Jerry's third child is -- ta da! -- Shepherd!

This long-winded lead-in gives me the opportunity to relate one of my favorite Shepherd stories. As usual, it touches on one of my recurring subjects -- gullible and / or stupid people. After all, what can I possibly say about Albert Einstein that might be humorous?

In 1956, our hero Shepherd arrived in New York City with nothing but his quick wit and his ability to talk [and talk ... and talk]. He quickly landed a radio talk show gig on WOR but was 'banished' to the overnight, 1-6 am slot. His show had no budget; and therefore no guests and little music, but it gave him the perfect forum to talk about all the things he found odd about New York and its people. Or any other topic that popped into his head. This was a highly unusual format in a pre-Lenny Bruce era; and his anti-establishment sentiments couldn't have flourished in any other timeslot. Controversy didn't exist in what was then a staid and conservative medium.

Shepherd also took his status as a exalted 'Night Person' semi-seriously and railed against the "creeping meatball-ism" of what he called the 'Day People', those armies of identically dressed cemetery plot salesmen, soap opera housewives and others who would simply believe anything, and everything, they were told. In Shepard's diatribes, the chosen 'Night People' were being continually persecuted by the 'Day People'. It was time to turn the tables, he decided!

His show quickly became an underground hit among intellectuals and artists, those creative types who did their best work in the wee morning hours. They even developed their own greeting. If someone spotted a person they thought, or hoped, was a Night Person, they would yell 'Excelsior!'. The proper response of 'Seltzer Bottle!' would identify a kindred spirit. This off-the-wall nonsensical conversation was met with dumbfounded stares by the rigid Day folk, who, naturally, simply ... did ... not ... get ... it!

Shepherd's shtick became an ability to weave humorous stories about the Daytime list makers and the sheep who earnestly believed in such things like The Best Dressed List ... or The Ten Most Eligible Bachelors List.

In April, 1956, The Best Seller List became Shepherd's target. In those days, the lists were compiled by storeowners who counted not only the number of books sold, but also the number of requests received by customers. Illogical, of course, but that’s how the muddled mind of a Day person works.

So over the course of several shows an idea developed. Shepherd went on to describe a non-existent book that fell into a popular genre of the day, the historical romance. Although 'romance' is included in the descriptive, these books were generally written by men, for men, and involved men of high standing and women of low morals.

Both the title and author needed to sound pretentious, Shepherd decided, so "I, Libertine" was born, written by British author Frederick R. Ewing. He even concocted a fictitious background for Ewing, complete with wife and academic credentials. And then the Night People were dispatched to toy with the Day People.

Those that worked in libraries created fake entries in card catalogs for the book. Bookstores were besieged with requests for "I, Libertine". Within weeks it shot to the top of the Best Seller List, which naturally, created even more demand for the title, and it enjoyed a healthy run in the Top 10. Excelsior! The hoax had worked!

But then things began to get out of hand. Information about the book and author reached the frenzy stage and the Day People scrambled. A popular New York Times columnist, wanting to seem in the loop as always, claimed to have had lunch with Ewing and his wife. The Village Voice reviewed the book, calling it a "rousing swashbuckler" and "a must read". A disc jockey in Eastern Pennsylvania even provided a 5-minute taped interview with Ewing. All of these going-ons were dutifully reported by Shepherd every night. And still, the reading public -- aka The Day People -- had no clue and kept requesting the book, keeping it atop the weekly lists!

Finally, a Newsweek reporter decided enough was enough and interviewed Shepard, who had not tried keeping the hoax secret -- at least from 1-6 am.

But first ---

Ian Ballantine of Ballantine Books, himself a Night Person, recognized a golden goose when he saw it, and quickly commissioned writer Ted Sturgeon to work with Shepard and create a parody / pastiche using every known cliche from historical fiction. Sturgeon is well known to Star Trek fans for the episode where its revealed that pointy-eared Spock goes into heat every 7 years, and the 'Live Long and Prosper' slogan.

The book was created virtually overnight and Ian's wife Betty finished the final chapter when Sturgeon fell asleep on the couch.

The book also needed a cover, and that task fell to artist Kelly Freas, probably best known outside science fiction circles as the guy who created Mad Magazine's Alfred E. Neuman ["What, me worry?"]. As shown below, the cover mirrored the book's less than serious writing by including even more in-jokes.



Though my scan isn't detailed enough, you should be able to read the outrageous quote setting the book's tone: "'Gadzooks,' quoth I, 'but here's a saucy bawd!'". The tavern is the 'Fish & Staff', and its shepherd's staff and name reference both Sturgeon and Shepherd. A portion of the word "Excelsior!" is in a triangular area at the extreme left, and the exclamation is also hidden in the ruffles on the dress worn by the woman.

The hardcover and softcover editions of the book beat the Newsweek article to the stands by a few weeks. Predictably, the book was a hit just based on fulfilling past orders alone, but its stay atop the Best Seller List was shorter after publication than before.

Aside from the magazine expose and a brief mention or two in non-New York newspapers, the US press had little to say about how they had been manipulated. The British, on the other hand, had a field day, using it as the prime example of American gullibility.

The New York Times, and others, then wisely changed their method for calculating Best Sellers to cash orders only.

Shepard was eventually fired from WOR, but for low ratings [well, it *was* post midnight radio, after all]. And he deservedly went on to bigger and better things, including, of course, 'A Christmas Story'.

On New Year's Eve, I'll be hoisting a toast [likely papaya juice] to Shepard in honor of his ability to fill 5 hours of air time by just chatting. Which makes him the patron saint of all bloggers.

Festivus Films for the Rest of Us

I don't believe in God or Santa Claus [gasp]. Plus I've never seen a partridge in a pear tree; I want Christmas to be 70 degrees and sunny and not white; and if I hear 'Dominick the Donkey' one more time, I'm hunting down the songwriters with a bazooka.

On the other hand, I love to see children opening gifts, I've framed the cover of Maria Carey's holiday album [hubba-hubba], and I carry an unlimited supply of mistletoe. So Scrooge I ain't.

And just to prove it, I'm compiling and sharing a list of my top 10 Christmas DVD offerings. You won't find the old chestnuts like 'Its A Wonderful Life', 'White Christmas', or 'Miracle on 34th Street' on it, if only for the same reason that even pizza isn't enjoyable if you eat it every day.

And if you check back next year, you may even find a different grouping of watchable flicks. The only constant here is change.

10] Seinfeld,'The Strike', first aired December 18, 1997

'And at the Festivus dinner, you gather your family around, and tell them all the ways they have disappointed you over the past year!' - Frank Costanza

I swiped the title of this blog entry from this Seinfeld episode. Festivus, of course, is a fake holiday, now 'officially' celebrated on December 23rd. I highly recommend episode writer Daniel O'Keefe's book 'The Real Festivus', which reveals an early version of the holiday as celebrated by his family.

9] Arthur C. Clarke's 'The Star' from Infinity Science Fiction, November, 1955

'Oh God, there were so many stars you could have used. What was the need to give these people to the fire, that the symbol of their passing might shine above Bethlehem?' - Father Matthew Karsighan

Though technically a prose story, it was dramatized on 'The New Twilight Zone' on December 20, 1985 -- which allows me to sneak this on the list. [Hey! Its *my* list! If I want to cheat, I'll cheat!]

Astronauts find the remnants of an advanced civilization, whose art, music and culture were leaps and bounds over ours. Tragically, itwas all wiped out when their star exploded about 2000 years ago and gave three earthly wise men a beacon. See the quote above.

Yeah, a semi-serious entry amongst my frivolity. Sorry about that. Won't happen again.

8] Home Alone (1990)

'This house is so full of people it makes me sick. When I grow up and get married, I'm living alone.' - Kevin McCallister

Has Road Runner-esque violence and a pre-annoying Macauley Caulkin. And I'm not sure I should reveal this, but I actually have that issue of Playboy that Kevin finds in Buzz's room [July 1989, with Erika Eleniak of 'Baywatch' as Miss July].

7] National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation (1989)

'Welcome to our home - what's left of it.' - Ellen

They tried traveling twice, and this time the Griswald's seem to have learned their lesson and stay home. Should be safe, right? A truly dysfunctional family that makes all of ours look normal.

6] Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer (1964)

'Why, any doe would be lucky to know someone with a nose like that.' - Clarice

Oh, OK, so its schmaltzy and intended for little kids. But think of Rudolph as Rocky Balboa and you can justify watching it once again. Maybe not to your friends, of course, but to your inner voice.

5] A Charlie Brown Christmas (1965)

'I never thought it was such a bad little tree. It's not bad at all, really. Maybe it just needs a little love.' - Linus Van Pelt

All of Charles Schultz's classic set pieces are here, from Lucy's psychiatrist booth to Snoopy and his doghouse. But its really all about the over-commercialization and true meaning of Christmas. Even ol' bah-humbug me appreciates the moral. [and I think I had a tree just like Charlie's once]

4] Mickey's Christmas Carol (1983)

'Bah humbug!' - Scrooge McDuck

There's so many versions of Charles Dickens' classic floating around, but this is probably the best one [with apologies to Bill Murray]. Jiminy Cricket ... er, The Ghost of Christmas Past ... always reminded me of the ledger they supposedly keep at the Pearly Gates. I hope my final judgement re Christmas will be a hearty thumbs up.

3] How the Grinch Stole Christmas (1966)

'I wouldn't touch you with a thirty-nine-and-a-half foot pole.' - Singer

Yeah, Jim Carrey did OK in the remake, but Boris Karloff and animator Chuck Jones defined the role.

I suffered through the reading of Beowulf in English like everyone else, but Dr. Seuss reworks the story to good advantage here.

2] The Santa Clause (1994)

'We're your worst nightmare. Elves with attitude.' - E.L.F.S. Leader

I have great memories of watching this over and over again with my kid. And I still can't watch TV's 'Numb3rs' without picturing David Krumholtz as head elf Bernard.

And finally ---

1] Die Hard (1988)

'Yippee-ki-yay' - John McClain

Oh, c'mon, did anyone really think I'd create a list that didn't include a murder and mayhem and special effects flick? Non-traditional and non-preachy for the new Christmas classic. And no reindeer, turtle doves, elves, geese, swimming swans nor partridges were harmed during the filming of this film [though reportedly a piper and maid did go missing]

Now anyone else's list will certainly differ. And there's a half-dozen other TV episodes that belong here ['A Very Special Family Guy Freakin' Christmas' comes immediately to mind -- Stewie's version of Santa as an omnipotent being capable of delivering plutonium is classic].

And now to go find a bazooka and a damn donkey named Dominick.

Ready.. Set.. Zoom!

Next Wednesday, December 17th, marks the 105th anniversary of the inaugural flight of the world's first successful heavier-than-air aircraft. It's kinda/sorta important to me because if there were no aircraft, there would have been no airlines. Without airlines, I would probably have gotten married at age 22 [long, LONG story].

I now celebrate that anniversary a little sadly, but -- more importantly -- also researching the really stupid moments in the history of man's early attempts to fly. The latter is much more interesting to you folks, of course, so I'll share one of those favorite tidbits.

The header I selected, Ready.. Set.. Zoom!, is the title of a Road Runner cartoon. Which is a highly appropriate subject line since I'm pretty sure the guy I'm going to tell you about is a direct inspiration for Wile E Coyote.

Rockets had existed in China for centuries, and are known to have been used to defend the city of Kai-Feng Fu from attackers as early as 1232 AD. But deep thinker Wan Hoo [sometimes translated as Wan Hu], a 15th century Chinese prince who lived -- and died -- during the Ming dynasty, was sitting around one day, and, perhaps spurred on by too many Mai Tais or seeking refuge from his nagging wives, came up with a better mousetrap.

About 150 years before Isaac Newton got plunked by an apple, Hoo somehow opened his Acme Supply catalog [Hong Kong division], gazed longingly up at the moon, and meticulously calculated that exactly 47 skyrockets were needed for him to reach escape velocity and deposit him in the same zip code as the Arthur C Clarke monolith from the movie 2001.

So Hoo got to work, built a sturdy wooden framework around his favorite comfortable chair, poured himself a cool one and confidently attached those 47 skyrockets to the back of the seat. Atop it he fastened two large kites, presumably to ease his reentry to earth's atmosphere. He then strapped himself to the chair, raised his hand, hollered out a bold "One of these days, Aliki! Wham! Bam! To the moon!" and 47 underpaid servants with blazing torches ignited the skyrockets. A moment later there was a mighty blast, followed by an impressive cloud of black smoke.

Predictably, Wan Hoo vanished, leaving nothing behind but a legend. Rather than a lifetime supply of the San Francisco treat, Wan Hoo must now be content with having a crater named for him on the moon, in honor of being the first Chinese taikonaut. [just FYI, the crater is located at 9.8S latitude, 138.8W longitude, and has a diameter of 52.0 km].

We can only hope that the legends are true, and this was, in fact, his final resting place and he wasn't simply Road Runner-ed to smithereens.

There's this ancient drawing currently in the possession of the United States Civil Air Patrol. [why? no clue]:

The upraised hand gesture has many meanings. But I prefer that rather than simply waving goodby, Wan Hoo had a brief moment of sanity and was madly waving "whoa!" and that the47 underpaid servants were too busy laughing to comply.

Hoo's feat has echoed through pop culture. But I always think of Danny Glover in Lethal Weapon though he clearly wasn't a willing disciple of the Wan Hoo Tao.

As a counterexample, just so you don't think all aviation daredevils are stupid, Burt Rutan, one of my personal heroes, won the Antari X-Prize back in 2004. The X Prize was a $10 million cash purse awarded to the first team that successfully launched three people to an altitude of 62.5 miles, returns them safely to Earth and then repeats that feat with the same vehicle within two weeks. 24 teams from 7 nations fought for the big bucks using a wide variety of techniques. But all these "think outside the box" research teams were clearly kindred spirits to Wan Hoo, if only because they achieved their high ambitions by bravely strapping high explosives to their butts.

As for me, I'm seeking safer roots to immortal fame.

Sunday, December 07, 2008

The First Drive-In Theatre

I never figured out why anybody blogs daily. After all, how many people would really care that today I made crepes for the first time, my car started in cold weather, I made inroads with that cute girl at the Y, or that there's a parade outside my apartment messing up my Creedence Clearwater retrospective? Well ... I'll tell you! None. Zippo. Nada.

So I figgered I'd try something a little different, since every day I research something, either for fun or profit. Lots of those things never get used because there's not enough substance for a full blown article. But a short, occasional paragraph or two where someone / anyone might learn something, get a little chuckle, or waste away 10 idle minutes? Now *that's* a blog! [and I'll even take requests for subjects]

Case in point: The First Drive-In Theatre!

Most of the poor young'uns today will never know what a thrill the old drive in theatres were. Pack 20 friends in the trunk or a babe in the passenger seat [which folded down], pay $2, and then watch two, maybe three, movies of varying quality. The poor sound from the speakers, the mosquito attacks, and -- of course -- the world's greasiest food from the concession stands were all part of the experience. Alcohol or illegal drugs were optional.

But, sez I, who first thought of putting flicks outside in the first place?

The boring part of the story is that Thomas Edison predicted them as far back as 1900, but all his early attempts failed. Seems that any bulb bright enough to work in quasi-dark conditions caused the film strip to spontaneously combust. Some movies may actually deserve this fate, but for most, technology still had some growing up to do.

Fast forward now to early 1930s New Jersey following advances in cooler running lightbulbs and chemistry, and let me introduce you to wealthy mama's boy Richard M. Hollingshead Jr.

Now poor bedeviled Richard had a major problem. His mother loved movies. I mean she *really* loved movies! But the theatres in those days were built to accomodate patrons of normal sized proportions. And the Hollingshead matriarch -- being of proud Italian stock - liked to cook and eat ... and EAT ... and simply could not wedge herself into a theatre seat! [Honest! I couldn't make this stuff up if I wanted to!]

Picture a modern housewife forced to go a month without All My Children and you get the idea. And her son, being within arm's reach, faced the brunt of her frustration.

So Richard placed a projector on top of his car and set up a makeshift screen in the driveway. Mama and the neighbors loved it.

But he was also a successful businessman, and so he applied for a patent for his "drive-in theatre". Patent number 1909537 was granted May 16, 1933 and three weeks later, Hollingshead's new company, Park-In Theatres Inc., finished the world's first drive-in theatre: the Camden [NJ] Drive-In Theatre. It could fit 335 cars on its 500 by 600 feet lot, and opened June 6, 1933. The entry fee was a mere 25 cents per car, plus 25 cents per person, for three nightly shows running at 8:30, 10 and 11:30.

Hollingshead's drive-in had three 10-foot RCA High Fidelity speakers placed strategically so the sound would overlap. Folks in the back experienced a slight sound delay but were probably otherwise occupied so they didn't notice. [it wasn't until later in the decade when the in-car speaker was introduced]

And for you trivia buffs: The opening attraction at Camden was "Wives Beware", starring the immortal Adolphe Menjou, a retitled / shortened version of the 1932 "Two White Arms".

So now you know. An elderly, obese woman was responsible for more teen sex than the pill, cable TV, Bill Clinton, or Playboy combined. And if the question ever comes up on Jeopardy ["I'll take Swamp Land Development for $100, Alex"], you'll have me to thank for knowing the answer.