So I’m hearing that the transformers movie is product placement laden cgi-fest filled with shallow 2-d characters. Um, duh? I loved the show back when I was a kid, but a lot of my generation seem to be forgetting that this and almost every other after school cartoon of it’s time was just one huge ad. Yes, they would slap a heartwarming good vs. evil or socially redeeming moral at the end of the show, but these shows (Transformers, GI Joe, Thundercats, Jem, etc…) existed purely to make. us. buy. toys.

Transformers is unique in that is has occasionally risen above it’s source material (Beast Wars comes to mind) but (and I may be in the minority here) going back and watching original episodes makes me do nothing so much as cringe. The plots are simplistic, the technical production values were low, the artistic style looked exactly the same as every other cartoon on TV, and with a few exceptions the voice talent was not that good. This show and most others of it’s time talked *down* to us. Until I was older and discovered Ralph Bakshi, the only cartoons that didn’t treat me as though I was brain damaged were Looney Tunes. (Hardly contemporary fare for the time - they stopped production in 1969.)

In spite of this, I really do have fond memories of the show and it’s brethren, and I’ll probably go see it. (or I’ll wind up renting it) Sometimes, a big mindless summer movie is *exactly* the thing one needs. Kinda like an ice cream cone.

This one either looks very norse or very mask-like depending on how I squint.

Getting stuck working the NY Gift show at the Javits center twice a year is slightly hellish (crappy customers, long hours, and no time to wander though the very nice handmade section), but working the yearly food show is indeed a treat. Nothing makes people happier than good alcohol and gourmet food. Happy people = happy customers who do not make my life suck.

Also, there’s the samples. Lunch hour means wandering from booth to booth blissing out on samples of gourmet cheese, lemon stuffed olives, mohito flavored agave based gelato, and *chocolate*. Specifically, cosmic chocolate. And then there were our next door neighbors, who were selling something called Cricket Cola. It’s got cane sugar, kola nut, green tea, and cola. It tastes phenomenal - as if your coke got a class upgrade to the Waldorf Astoria, and the balls of a pro soccer player. - if you haven’t seen this yet, I think you might like it. :)

This doesn’t even cover whole energy drinks section downstairs, notable because there are a lot of international vendors from countries that haven’t banned ephedra. Last year Bill came home with the most interesting assortment of… well I guess you could call it candy. (They were chocolate coated at least.)

It totally makes the sore feet at the end of the day worth it.

Having a song stuck in your head is annoying, but having a song that you don’t really like (or even hate) stuck on mental repeat sucks ever so much more. It’s been easier since the radio in the warehouse broke and I’m no longer treated to the “no repeat” play list of the local dance station. Today though, I have to blame Big Love for giving me today’s mental track of “tiny dancer”. (which I don’t associate with Elton John at *all* for some reason, although I am having scenes from “Almost Famous” pop though my head.)

On another note, this post reminds me of how much I really love the movie version of 1776, and how much I should really go and pick up a copy now that it’s on DVD. John/Abby totally set up my later love for Beatrice/Benedick, and I would always force myself to sit though “momma, look sharp” even though it still reduces me to a pathetic pile of tears. (I am such a sentimental weeper at movies it is not to be believed.)

And really, it it any wonder that little junior high me completely pinged on this version of John Adams? Obnoxious and disliked and pugnacious and everything I wanted to be (well, when I wasn’t wanting to grow up and be Sandy at the end of Grease) and he got a beautiful, witty, and amazing wife to boot. Yup, he was my hero.

1.) We really are put here on this planet to make things a little bit better than we found them. Random acts of kindness are a good thing.
2.) At the end of the day, people are just people. Not good, not bad, just imperfect and struggling.
3.) In spite of points one and two I am still an antisocial, elitist bitch who would, most of the time, rather be left alone. Bother me when I don’t want to be bothered, and I’ll cheerfully eat your face.

Every so often someone tries to reconcile the happy-nice and antisocial-hermit parts of me. And their head explodes. I’ve seen it happen enough where I just stand back and watch. No real point in trying to help them… what am I going to say? Sorry, smarter folks than you have tried to figure me out, and come up with nothing? I make sense to me (most of the time) and that’s all I’m going to shoot for.

That sound? Might be part of my childhood dying.