Tag Archives: Childhood

A Word About Vampires

A Word About Vampires

When I was little, Barnabas Collins rocked my world. I would run home from Catholic school and gladly dive from the divine light of our savior, Jesus Christ, to the dark underworld of vampires.

It was my favorite half hour in the universe. Dark Shadows was this weird acid-trip of a gothic soap opera that featured the tormented Barnabas Collins, the tortured and impassioned vampire and a pioneer for the piecey bang look.  It was scary and romantic and probably the worst show on television.

There is a huge cult following to this day and I know there will be a mob of angry fanboys with torches on my front lawn any minute now….(not to overstate the obvious delusions I have that anyone outside my best friends and family actually read this blog).

But, truly, I defy you to follow the Escher-like maze of a storyline. There were actors playing multiple roles, timelines that jumped from present to past to parallel universes to living to dead and back again.

I was a 6-year-old Goth and a tip o’ the hat to my mother for supporting my addiction. I’m sure it molded my love of The Cure. Picture, if you will, Robert Smith in a Brownie uniform.

So, imagine my sunken-eyed delight when I heard that Tim Burton was making a movie of my beloved Collinwood. And, with the singular Johnny Depp as well. Be still my bloodless heart!

(I wonder if Johnny Depp just sits in front of his mirror saying “You, my man, are freakin’ amazing. Is there nothing you can’t do?” I know I would do exactly that if I were Johnny Depp. Aren’t you glad I’m not?)

Now, I haven’t seen the movie yet but I do have an innate distrust of taking my beloved 60’s and 70’s TV childhood and slapping lipstick and a push-up bra on it. We never let anything age gracefully, do we?

It certainly didn’t do the Beverly Hillbillies Movie any favors. What? You didn’t see it? Point made.

See, one of the best parts of Dark Shadows was how absurdly bad it was. I’m not sure they could really capture the art of a boom hitting an actor in the head, the craft services dude eating a donut just to the left of the grand staircase, or the fly that continually lands on Josette’s nose as she pleads with Barnabas. Even a child knew they were witnessing something terrible and brilliant all at the same time.

But, because the FLIPPIN’ AWESOME Johnny Depp is in it and the FREAKIN’ BRILLIANT Tim Burton is at the helm, I will give it a chance. They are the two-headed idiot savants of creativity so if they can’t pull it off, who can? Maybe no one. In which case, perhaps we should leave bad enough alone.

Why I Love Talking Monkeys

Why I Love Talking Monkeys

I love any talking monkey. I will watch all the Eddie Murphy Dr. Doolittle movies a million times just for the drunk French monkey. Same goes for that Kevin James zookeeper movie….I love me a chatty monkey! Put clothes on them and I’ll wet myself.

Oddly, I don’t like George Bush though so clearly all talking monkeys are not funny.

Now, my husband is having an aneurism because he is a science geek extraordinaire and, technically, I love talking primates, not monkeys alone, monkeys being a sub-order of primate and blah blah blah blah. So, I’ve given him a resounding whack across the head and told him that I am not Darwin so shut up and make me a lemon drop.

The crowning glory of the talking ape genre (that I just made up) is Lancelot Link, Secret Chimp. Why hasn’t some brilliant Hollywood exec (I know, I crack myself up too!) remade this inspired artifact?

For those of you not yet enlightened on the beauty of Lancelot, Mata Hairi, Dragon Woman (where the creators cast an exceptionally politically incorrect Chinese villain), APE (Agency to Prevent Evil) and CHUMP (Criminal Headquarters for Underworld Master Plan), please do yourself a favor and look at this. You will be a better person for it.

And, because Lancelot had time on his hands after saving the world from CHUMP domination, he put a bitchin’ band together: The Evolution Revolution. It’s fucking epic.

Just watch Mata Hairi shred on that tambourine. Take that Susan Dey, you candy-ass percussionist. Though, why do they feel it’s necessary to put a beard and mustache on a chimpanzee? Seems redundant somehow.

I Mock Therefore I Am

I Mock Therefore I Am

So, a blog. I know this is what is done these days….sharing information with the world that you think they are clamoring for but, in reality, only you think is helpful/interesting/humorous/etc.  It always seemed akin to telling someone about your vacation to the Grand Canyon in molecular detail or talking about how your colon is doing – of great import to you but a painful and awkward experience for the recipient. Kind of like sex.

I work at home, alone, so I am thinking this is somewhat like my lunatic ramblings as I shuffle around my house in my slippers talking to my imaginary friends and co-workers. The way I see it, I’m just looking a little less insane to an outsider by purposefully writing it down because, dude, I am a BLOGGER!

A little about myself in case you are in the least bit interested. (If not, feel free to hit that little box with the x and get the hell outta here because you have THINGS to DO!) I’m the youngest of 6 kids, raised in a predominantly Irish Catholic family with a smattering of Chilean. We are a thick-skinned, sarcastic clan with excessive body hair. If we had a family crest it would be emblazoned with the words “I mock therefore I am”.

One of the biggest litmus tests I have when I meet someone, aside from whether or not they LOVE Raising Arizona as much as I do (and if you can quote any of it, I’ll add you to my will), is whether or not they are capable of finding humor in their own crazy ticks, missteps or third nipples. There is nothing that is more of a bore than someone who takes themselves too seriously and can’t stand to be mocked or made fun of.

Along the same lines, I also believe that there is humor and absurdity in pretty much any situation.

And, since this is a blog and I’m supposed to keep it short…..

  • I hate getting into an unmade bed.
  • I can’t stand it when people say “irregardless”. It’s not a freakin’ word.
  • I am one of the only women I know who loves Mystery Science Theater 3000 and consider “Manos, Hands of Fate” to be a modern classic.
  • My hall passes: John Cusack, Paul Rudd and Gregory Peck circa 1953 (I have time travel capabilities in this scenario).
  • My lesbian hall passes: Tina Fey, Zooey Deschanel and Leslie Mann.

There you have it, dear imaginary readers.

Until next time,

Irene