Posts Tagged ‘there’s a Jay-Z line in there’

Sorry to issue the high alert. Please rest assured that my Eggo is safe. The danger is only figurative.

For now.

But we still have to talk about some things.

First the Fat Boys break up; now every day I wake up, somebody takes something away. My childhood memories are under attack. Maybe yours, too.

There were the new Looney Toons a few years ago that WB called the “Loonatics.”

(Scare the hope and dreams out of children much? They made toys of those; in prisons, probably, considering how much they look like the original models were just sharpened into shivs.)

There was that Alvin and the Chipmunks with Jason Lee.1

(By the way, what are those? And is the new Theodore wearing ski goggles? Apparently he’s gearing up for the Giant Slalom life becomes after childhood.2)

Then they started committing to making movies out of some of my favorite games; out of some of my favorite memories.







But why?! Why are they doing this to me? Leave. my memories. alone. I expected to die with them intact, absent whatever frequent nights of drinking and tangentially related repression have cost me. I expected that when I was 80 or so, I could tell kids about Risk, a game of world domination, and that they’d assume I was just talking the crazy, not that they’d know it as the feature film starring Will Smith as Barack Obama.

I just want things to be the way they used to be. I want my baby back, baby back, baby back. And I don’t mean Chili’s baby back ribs;4 I mean the light in my eyes that is starting to dim.

I also want an explanation. Does no one have any ideas for movies? Because if paying people to sit in a room and decide things like “how to make Battleship a movie” is what Hollywood is doing these days, I, too, often have less developed ideas than chimps do and I can be out to L.A. by the end of the day.


1Why, Jason? Why?

2This ski reference was one big excuse to remember Picabo Street. Yep: just because.

3Neveryoumind that this whole Monopoly City Streets project between Hasbro and Google sounds awesome. Let’s assume that doesn’t shred my point to pieces.

4Barbecue sauce.


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30-days-official-website-only-on-fxMorgan Spurlock parlayed his Super Size Me fame and indie-film-street-cred into a number of really challenging adventures on 30 Days, a show on FX.

Every episode is a new venture into lifestyle immersion.  One of my favorite episodes is the premiere: Minimum Wage.  Spurlock and his special lady friend had to live on minimum wage for 30 days.  They started with a few hundred dollars and some clothes, but then had to find a place to live, find jobs, commute to those jobs, get health care, etc.

Condescending?  Arguably.  I get that.  But he’s trying, and that’s big.

Today, I have a similar yet wholly different ambition I’ve had since writing a science report in 4th grade:

I want to adopt and live with an adult, wild cheetah for 30 days.

cheetah-6090Here are highlights of how I imagine my 30-day experience, in note-to-self form.

Day 1:
Pick up chain-mail bodysuit from blacksmith on way to pick up cheetah at airport. Call Zipcar and ask what cheetah policy is.

Day 2:
Remember – handler said there is no “safe word.” There is bite and there is lose.

Day 3:
Ask Jeeves what cheetahs eat. Running out of time. Cheez-Its were no-go.

Day 6:
Earn trust. Give cheetah name; like “Killer” but with gentility of “Puddin’.”

Day 8:
“Stalks” not ready for playground, yet. Was too soon. Too soon.

Day 9:
Hid from Stalks and then I ran. I was playing. Thought being in house would quash speed advantage. Gotta learn to live with regrets.

Day 14:
Hospital release. Same insurance that didn’t cover the flu did cover readily avoidable cheetah mauling. America.

Day 15:
Unattended cheetahs poop in houses like undiapered babies: on anything.

Day 18:
Stalks finally let me pet him. Won’t admit, but missed me while I was in ICU.

Day 19:
Pushed envelope. Trained Stalks to hone murderous tendencies. Took all afternoon and three mailpersons.

Day 20:
Took Stalks out and about. Vanquished mine enemies. Didn’t have to wait in line at local supermarket for first time in ever.

Day 23:
Finally called boss. Told her Stalks was my bro; I am on bro-ternity leave.

Day 24:
Told roommate it was safe to leave bedroom now.

Day 26:
Missionaries came to door with pamphlets for my soul. Stalks was not afraid of their god.

Day 29:
Stalks caught bird in the house. Bird had it coming.

Day 30:
Drove slowly back to airport. Didn’t cry. It was allergies.

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