Whatever Happened To The Hamburger?

so beefy!

Whatever happened to the hamburger?

It seems like you can't find a good, old fashioned, straight up burger anymore.

The hamburger used to be a menu item at every restaurant, sometimes with cheese if you liked, and eventually a couple other variations came along and they decided to pretty much form a hamburger band that occupied about one-third of a menu page.

It looked something like this:

• Hamburger - 1/4 pound burger, with lettuce, tomato, onion, pickle, ketchup and mustard
• Cheeseburger - same as above with a slice of cheese on it
• Double hamburger - (you guess it) two hamburger patties with all the same toppings
• Bacon Double Cheeseburger - heaven in your mouth

And that was fine.  If you wanted something a little more risque, you might venture over to McDonald's and have the Big Mac because it had a special sauce - but that was a specialty burger, and almost the holy grail of all hamburgers in its own way.

Then along came the chicken burger; covered in that disgusting mayonnaise. And someone said, hey, let's take the mayo from the chicken burger and put it on the regular burger.  And my heart sank a bit.

Now, I've been to places where the hamburgers take up an entire menu page.  And they have ridiculous names:

• Squakin' Rockin' Turkey Burger
• The Something What Too Big To Be Too Big Burger
• The Outback Westerner

 And so on, and so on.

I've also been to some restaurants that are totally devoted to hamburgers.  It's like you're an assembly line worker, getting to pick all the pieces of your Frankenstein Hamburger.  It's all so gourmet.  It's not even really a hamburger anymore so much as it is a dinner entree. 

what is that bubbly stuff on the bottom part of the bun?  does this burger have boils?

First you start by picking your bun - white bun, whole wheat bun, 12-grain, bleached wheat to look like white bun, or gluten-free-vegan-inspected-bun.

Then you pick what type of patty you want - beef burger, chicken burger, turkey burger, or veggie burger.  Wait a sec... I thought we were having hamburgers here?

So you start to get my point.  You move on to choose from eleven kinds of imported cheese, thirty different vegetable options, and ten different sauces (eight of which are just fucking mayonnaise with a different kind of spice stirred into it).  I'll just have ketchup and mustard please and thank you.

"Can I take your order?'
"uh... gosh... there's a lot to choose from... maybe I'll try the... uh... what's the Chef's Omega Sauce?"
"It's a garlic infused, sun-dried tomato blended mayonnaise, lightly seasoned with lemon juice."
"Can I have this 'Omega Supreme Burger' without it?"
"Absolutely!  Would you like to try the Pepperjack Mayo instead?"
"Uh... no. Not really.... listen, do you just have a juicy hamburger with ketchup, mustard, lettuce, onion, and tomato?  Maybe a pickle on the side?"
"You mean you don't want a pretentiously spiced up mayonnaise on your burger?  Fine.  Which type of bun would you like?"
"The kind hamburgers come on."

You know, you can still get just a plain hamburger at McDonalds?  Yeah, the fucking thing is, like, seventy-nine cents or something and it tastes alright for seventy-nine cents.  I'm not saying it's great, but for seventy-nine cents you get a bun, a patty, some ketchup, and a pickle.  I don't even think it's on the menu, but they do make it. 

So, whatever happened to the hamburger?  I miss it.

- ryan of the ryan fan club

The Great Superman Movie Book

I grew up on the Christopher Reeve Superman movies.  Superman II, the one where Supes has to battle the three baddies from the Phantom Zone, is my favorite movie of all-time.  I've watched it at least 200 times in my life.

When I was a kid in the 80s, I stumbled across this little gem of a book in my public school's library.  The Great Superman Movie Book.  It covered the first three Superman films and it was awesome.

You've gotta remember, that this was long before the internet, and there were only so many blockbuster movies released each year.  Books like this weren't as common as they are today.  Go into your local bookstore today and you'll find a shelf with six or seven different books all about the current blockbuster movie (Guardians of the Galaxy, X-Men, Captain America... wow, Marvel has done a great job with their marketing department). 

There weren't very many books that focused on the classic Superman movies, so this one stands out - and is a quality little read too. Just from looking at the cover you can see we're treated to Confidential Close-Ups, A Fabulous Photo Collection, and a pull-out poster!

The two different versions of The Great Superman Movie Book.

Believe it or not, I loved this book so much as a kid that I borrowed it from the library enough times to fill up three of those sign-out cards that they stuck in the back.  It was destined to be mine.  But I could never find it anywhere for sale.  My mother even tried to have it specially ordered through the bookstores in town, but by 1988 it was out of print.

everyone needs someone to look up to.

This was clearly a job for Superman.

Or a super-lie.  The last time I borrowed the book from my school's library, I hid it in my room and didn't return it.  A week or so went by and the librarian sent me home with a note for my parents that I would have to reimburse the school's library for the lost book.

I think the fee was something like, $2.50... which for an eight year old kid in 1988 was a lot of money. 

My mother, who was no idiot, asked me where the book was.  I couldn't lie to her. 

Kids, don't lie to your mother.  It's wrong, and it's stupid, and it's just silly.

So my mother gave me the money to reimburse the school for the book, on the condition that I would work it off around the house.  This whole solution may seem strange because the actual issue at hand was never solved... the school never got their book back, I worked my debt off around the house, and in the end I got what I wanted all along - The Great Superman Movie Book.

Kids, don't go looking for a real moral in this story.  You won't find one. 

Unless you keep reading!

back cover

Many years later I was at a rummage sale outside my old public school.  People in the neighborhood and the community donated items for sale.  I forget what they were raising money for, and really, it doesn't matter to this story.  For the sake of argument, let's say they were raising money to build a super-computer for Gus Gorman. 

I was going through the books at the sale, and lo and behold was a copy of The Great Superman Movie Book!  However, this one was a little different.  It didn't have anything from Superman III in it.  Great Caesar's Ghost, I had found the original edition!  And I didn't even know it existed.

"How much for the book?" I asked.
"I dunno... fifty cents, I guess," said the rummage saleswoman.
"Here's twenty bucks," I said. "It's for a good cause."

And really, it was for a GREAT cause.  The Great Superman Movie Book!

- ryan

Rosalina Is A Total Babe

Rosalina, a total biker babe

What's hotter than a hot chick on a motorcycle?

Okay, I realize that Rosalina here isn't even a cartoon character - she's a video game character, and that's actually even less cool, but let's face facts.  A chick on a motorcycle is hot.

She just is.  Motorcycle babes are total babes.

When I'm playing Mario Kart on the Wii, and I've been riding in first place for most of the race, and suddenly I get lambasted with a Blue Shell of Death, I get really mad.  Until I realize that the shell was sent to me by Rosalina.  And then all is forgiven because she's a total babe.

I don't even know if Rosalina has ever been in any other Nintendo game.  As far as I'm concerned, she was put in Mario Kart to sexy it up a bit.

Not Rosalina, but still a total biker babe

And when I play in two-player mode against my darling wife, I don't let her bully Rosalina around.  In video game land, Rosalina is my woman and my real wife just needs to understand and accept that.

I kinda wonder how Princess Toadstool (apparently called "Peach" these days) feels about having another pretty lady kicking around in the Mushroom Kingdom.  I mean, she's always been the number one gal that all the plumbers (both red and green) are digging.

Well, until someone named Daisy came about just so Green Mario could have a girlfriend too.  Oh wait, there's also Toadette - who's a bit of a babe in her own way too, but in the same sense as dating an eighteen year old high school girl and being her prom date is.

And let's not forget Birdo.  You're one fucked up freak if that's your idea of a babe fantasy.

So I'll stick with Rosalina.  Total Babe.

And, fuck it, I wrote this rant after drinking a whole bunch of beer.

- ryan of the ryan fan club

I don't know who this is dressed up as Rosalina, but she doesn't have a motorcycle.

That's My Spot

"I was here first."

When I was a kid, and I'm sure many of you have had a similar experience growing up, my father had one specific spot on the couch where he liked to sit.  It was the best spot on the couch for several reasons - there was a coffee table right next to it, it was in perfect view of the television, and it was always warm n' comfy.

It was his spot.

And, as a kid, I sat in his spot every single chance I had.

And every single time he saw me there, he'd quickly kick me out of it.

After all, it was his spot.

It started off pretty simply, with him telling me to move over, and over time this graduated into simple hand gestures and pointing.  Sometimes all he had to do to get the message across was clear his throat a big, deep, *ahem*.

The place where I sit and get fat

As I aged and became braver, I found myself not sitting in my dad's spot until I knew he was nearby.  I'd wait for him to come home from work, and then I'd quickly leap into his spot - it was a clear act of rebellion and I was curious to see how he'd react and what he'd do about it.  One way or another, I'd end up further down the couch.

Because it was his spot.

The other day, I came downstairs from the bathroom, walked over to the couch took one look at Ryleigh - who was sitting where I normally do - and simply pointed to the other end of the couch.  She moved.  I sat.  Sipped on my coffee that was right next to me on the table and proceeded to watch a Full House re-run in perfect view.

That's my spot.

Then it dawned on me: am I turning into my father?

- ryan of the ryan fan club

AutoRYography - Hallowe'en '98

1998 was a pivotal year for me.

That fall, after having just started my own fan club and not knowing what I had gotten myself into, was when I dressed up (or down really) in my most controversial Hallowe'en costume ever.  It resulted in me getting strange looks, curious half-smiles, stern talkings to, and a even a few fingers pointed in my face.

I painted my upper body half black with a zipper down the middle of my chest.  And I only wore pants because I didn't want to be arrested that night.

It was a bit of an odd reference and homage to Steven Tyler in Aerosmith's "Livin' On The Edge" video.  That video was already eight years old by this point, and was certainly not in anyone's mind but mine.

...there's something wrong with THIS GUY today...

Livin' On The Edge

By mid-98 I was a HUGE Aerosmith fan.  I secretly wanted to be just like Steven Tyler.  I grew my hair long, started wearing leopard print clothing and... well, okay I guess it wasn't that big of a secret.  This Hallowe'en costume may have been a step too far, but I digress - I still, to this day, think it was fucking awesome.

And really, you weren't me back then and never saw the looks on the peoples' faces.  That was worth it all.

My high school was on the other side of town, and I had to be bussed there.  Usually I'd get up around 6:30 am to get ready for school on a normal day.  I had to be up at 5:30 that morning to get this costume ready.  The painting part was pretty painstaking.  It took a long time to do, and I had to be careful not to rub against anything.

I had never painted my body before, and didn't even know what body paint was.  I was certainly no expert in this field.  I had purchased a dozen or so tubes of black face paint from the dollar store to make this transformation happen, and it took all of them to finish the paint job.  And really, there's no photos of my back, but it got pretty choppy looking towards my spine.

So then I got on the school bus, wearing a big black trench coat as I so often did back in those days.  My friends could tell that something was up.  Since I had applied the paint with my finger, I could really only make the zipper look so good.  Some people on the bus thought I was being crude or bold or even racist by being half black.

Wrestlemania VI

When I got into school and took my jacket off, a couple people thought my costume was "Rowdy" Roddy Piper in Wrestlemania VI.  This was, of course, 1998 and the WWF was at the height of its all-time popularity.  Oh well.  Mostly, the kids at school didn't know what to make of me that day.  Everyone kept their distance, obviously to not have any black paint rub off on them. But more and more I was greeted with comments about race, prejudice, and how cool it was that I was making a statement about how we were all the same on the inside.

When I would explain that I was dressed as Steven Tyler in "Livin' On The Edge" I'd just get blank stares from people.

"What do you think you're doing, walking around here with no shirt on," asked my first period English teacher.  She was a bitch by nature, overly preach about the ways of feminism, and didn't understand art even though she prided herself on being artistic.  I hated her so much I eventually dropped her class.  "This is my Hallowe'en costume," I replied as if to insinuate that she didn't realize that it was, in fact, October 31st.

"And why did you feel the need to come to my class like this today?"
"If it would make you feel better I'd be more than willing to leave."  So I spent the rest of first period in the Theater Complete room, rambling about nothing, and visiting the art classes down the hall.

That night was the high school dance and I didn't miss it for the world.  I was never one for going to these dances before.  I thought they were pretty hokey.  But I had a sweet costume that had everyone talking.  There was even a costume contest, which I didn't win but I'm glad to say the guys from my school dressed up as the Beastie Boys "Sabotage" video did.  Me and the other Theater Complete kids found ourselves wandering outside for a couple quick beers before calling it a night.

The famous naked photo of me came from that night too.  I had convinced some friends (who naturally don't want to be named and I don't friggin' blame them) to snap a quick picture of me totally nude and covering myself, just like the opening of the "Edge" video that I was mirroring.  That photo wound up in Ryan Fan Club Newsletter #3. 

L2R: Stephen (the first ever Ryan-Fan who signed up) ... me....  Brendon dressed as Hercules

When I got home that night, around midnight, I had to get that black shit off my body.  There was no way I was going to sleep with that on and have it wind up all over my sheets.   So I took a shower to scrub it off.  This was probably the longest shower I have ever had, and I've had some darn good shower sex of the years, and I used nearly an entire new bar of Ivory soap.  I learned something that night:

Hot water + black paint + white bath tub = grey bath tub.

Boy, did I get in a lot of shit from my parents the next day.  In all honesty, I had the water so hot in that shower and combined with the few beer I'd had and the cool October air on my mostly naked body... well, I puked up a storm before bed.  I refuse to blame the booze for that one.  You never blame the booze.

So, is there a legacy for this?  I'm sure the Ryanites and Ryanettes from those early days remember this well, and when I bring out the photo for new Ryan-Fans they give me those same looks I experienced in 1998.  I love it.

Oh, and "Livin' On The Edge" has become one of my all-time favorite Aerosmith songs.

But I don't try to dress like Steven Tyler anymore.

- ryan

My Hate/Love Relationship with Disney

"Let it go... let it go... can't hold it back anymore..."

Do you know how many times a day I get to hear that song?

Sure, Demi Lovato and Idina Menzel have taken the song, "Let It Go" to the top of charts, the Oscars, and the stratosphere.  But lucky for me, I get to hear my little girl sing "Let It Go" about fifteen to twenty times a day.

Sometimes she even makes up her own words for it.  And I gotta admit, no matter how many times I get to hear that tune (which actually isn't a bad song at all for the first few times), when Ryleigh sings it I always listen. 

Somewhere along the way, over the last three years or so, my life changed.  I stopped hating Disney.

I used to have a real hate-on for Disney.  Not the company, or the parks, or Walt himself, or even the buttloads of merchandise you'd see kicking around the mall... just the animated movies.  God, I hated the Little Mermaid. 

What I never understood was how, with all the quality animation Disney produces and is capable of producing, they never opened a mature studio to capitalize on the demographic that glues their eyes to Family Guy, The Simpsons, etc etc.  I guess we'll never know.

So after watching the Lion King and Alladin for a hundred times in the early 90s, I got really sick of Disney cartoons.  And the stupid songs.  Why did those characters have to break out into song for no reason at all, just to explain the events they were doing in the first place?

It wasn't until much later in life that I realized that I too often break out into random song, explaining exactly what I'm doing at any given moment... Here I am, walking down the street, to check the mail and who do I meet, but a nice old mailman tall and thin, oh he's got my parcel and he reeks of gin...

So, I guess I can't really hate on Disney films for that.

In the mid-90s, while I was still in high school, I had started sorta quasi-dating this girl who was in love with everything Disney.  Because I'm a sucker for a pretty girl, I re-educated myself on those animated classics - everything from Lady & The Tramp, Snow White, and more recent ones like The Little Mermaid.  Go figure that when she broke my heart was coincidentally when I really started hating Disney movies.  As disappointed as I am that I never did get to make sweet passionate dirty love to her, it did mean that I never had to sit through the later-90s Disney films like, Mulan, Pocahontas, the Hunchback, and all those other shitty ones.  I guess you win some and you lose some.  I'd like to think I broke even.  Though I might be wrong.  I'll never know for sure.

While animated Disney movies sucked in the late 90s, those Pixar movies started to take off, and unfortunately I missed out on that too.  Stupid ego pride.

Hmmm... maybe these movies aren't so bad after all...

So let's flash forward fifteen years or so.  I've become a dad, to a beautiful little girl, and she just so happens to be in love with everything Frozen.  I've said before, that when we watch Disney flicks as part of family movie night I tend to watch Ryleigh watch the movie.  That's where my enjoyment comes from these days.  But also, I'm picking up on things I'd never picked up on before.

For example, The Little Mermaid has one of those most gruesome death scenes I've ever witnessed - when the big octopus lady is impaled by the mast of a ship!  That was fucking awesome!  There should've been more of that in the movie.

Last week when Sleeping Beauty was re-released on Blu-Ray I decided to sit through that one too.  I'd never seen it before, and it was pretty darn good too.  The action sequence at the end was everything I'd like to see in a Hobbit-style movie.

WHAT'S HAPPENING TO ME?  Has being the father of a little girl really transformed my opinion of Disney movies so much? Did I sell out my beliefs to make my daughter happy?  Have I just become a big softie at heart?

For the record, my favorite Disney movie of all-time is still The Black Cauldron.  That movie beats up all other Disney flicks.  But, man, I actually really enjoyed Frozen (the first couple times) and I really liked Tangled too.  And Brave? Damn good movie!

So there, I guess I don't hate Disney movie anymore.  Well, except for what they're doing to my bank account. 

- ryan

PS - I also won't let anyone say a bad word about Darkwing Duck.  That guy was a stone cold bad ass mother fucker.

What I'm Thankful For

What I'm Thankful For...

I'm thankful that I comes before E, except after C or when it sounds like A.

I'm thankful that my liver, kidneys, lungs, aorta, large intestine, and small intestine have yet to form a union and continue to work round the clock, seven days a week.

I'm thankful that my cat will outlive my wife's dog.

I'm thankful for bacon bits.  The real ones, not those simulated non-bacon-flavored things.

I'm thankful for sunsets.  Mostly because that sun is a hard working sonofabitch and deserves some downtime.

I'm thankful that things such as "Best Before" dates on milk are really just guidelines and that I can still rely on my sense of taste and smell to determine if I should drink that milk or not.  The milk man ain't gonna keep me down today!

I'm thankful that my cable box gives me the same channels in regular and HD, in the event that I might be feeling retro and want to watch a show in crappier quality than what is available to me.

I'm thankful that I'm tall enough to reach everything that is up high in my house, even though, yes, I did put those things up at that height knowing full well that I could reach up and grab them whenever I wanted.  It's just nice to feel successful.

I'm thankful for whoever first mixed chocolate and peanut butter together.

I'm thankful for Full House on DVD.

I'm very thankful
That I can show off my thanks
In haiku format

- ryan

...and I'm thankful for moments like these.

Top 11 Times Cartoons Got Very Real

Cartoons have always been a great form of escapism.  We can see robots that turn into vehicles.  Animals that talk.  And, of course, Hammerman.  But during the course of our childhoods there were a few times that our favorite animated adventures got a little too real.

Very real, and many of you may not have realized the real message that was being sent to you at the time.  So check this out:

Partnership for a Drug Free America!

11. Super Mario Meets Milli Vanilli
I keep this first example a little light, but really, if you were Mario (or even his brother, Green Mario) and you arrived on Earth and then met Milli Vanilli, you'd be depressed enough to need some serious counseling.
What the cartoon was telling us: Milli Vanilli are phonies. 

10. Cartoon All-Stars to the Rescue
Imagine all of your favorite cartoon characters coming together in one very special episode.  Turtles, Bugs Bunny, Alf, Chipmunks, Winnie The Mother Fucking Pooh.  And then they all need to stop a boy - a boy not unlike YOU maybe - from his ADDICTION TO ILLEGAL NARCOTICS.  Yes sir, in an attempt to teach us about the dangers of drugs, the powers that be actually made them more appealing.
What the cartoon was telling us: Just say not to drugs? 

9. When The Chipettes Let "Uncle" Harry Take Photos Of Them
If you remember this one, then you're about to be blown away.  The Chipmunks had previously thwarted the evil money schemes of their "Uncle" Harry a few times, so he came back to try and snake some money out of the Chipettes - this included him taking modelling photos of them at his roach motel of an apartment.  David Seville should have called child services.
What the cartoon was telling us: Everyone has that one "uncle" that they aren't allowed to go for long walks in the wilderness with. 

8. Jon Arbuckle Wants To Pay With Cash
In my personal favorite Garfield cartoon, Jon Arbuckle is doing some shopping and wants to pay with cash.  The retailer questions him, "What is this CASH you keep referring to," and insists that Jon use a credit card to pay.  They simply won't take his money.
What the cartoon was telling us: The world will change around us and we'd better be prepared.  And if you're Jon Arbuckle, nobody wants your money.  Or your love.

7. Mad Love
Everyone loved Batman: The Animated Series.  It's still heralded as one of the greatest achievements in animation history.  Remember the episode Mad Love?  Go watch it again.  It's all about abusing the ones you love to further your own personal affairs.
What the cartoon was telling us: If you're a lovely person, and maybe pure and innocent at heart and just a little jaded and misunderstood, who is in love with an abusive (mentally and physically) psychopath then you have no choice but to continue loving them... even if you think they might be dead.

"C'mon puddin', don'tcha wanna rev up your Harley?"

 6. The Looney Tunes Got Juiced Up In Space Jam
Halfway through the epic outer space battle (jam?) between the Monstars and the Looney Tunes, the good guys all decide that whatever "secret" juice Michael Jordan is drinking must be what they need too in order to be successful basketball players.  Sure, it's just water in a bottle marked for Jordan, but they buy right into it.
What the cartoon was telling us: Your skills and hard work do not matter.  To be successful you need either drugs, magic, or Michael Jordan. 

5. Donald, Huey, Duey, and Louie Eat a Turkey
In pretty much any holiday themed classic Disney cartoon you'll see Uncle Donald sit down to turkey dinner with his duckling nephews.  I might as well just go an eat my neighbor for fun.
What the cartoon was telling us: Cannibalism isn't just for emergencies anymore kiddo. 

4. Murder Is Always Better At Christmastime 
In the Smurf's Christmas Special, a new bad guy named The Stranger kidnaps a bunch of kids.  Well, you wouldn't adultnap a bunch of kids.  Anyway, this Stranger guy gets chased down by The Smurfs AND Gargamel and they combine their efforts to stop the Stranger by engulfing him in a circle of fire, and when the flames go out he's as dead as your Christmas Turkey.
What the cartoon was telling us: This holiday season, just stay in with your family for a change.

3. Teela's Origin 
Teela, daughter of Man-At-Arms and Captain of the Royal Guard, goes on a quest to find out who her long lost mother truly is.  She has to fight monsters and get help from He-Man, but she mostly does the grunt work herself, and learns that the Sorceress of Greyskull is her real mommy.  Awwww.
What the cartoon was telling us: If you uncover a great truth about yourself or your life, your mom will simply take that memory away from you to better suit her own needs.  Oh, and your weekly allowance has just been cut back too.

Ooooh, kissin' cousins!

2. The Care Bear Pandas
In the only episode of the original Care Bears show that ever featured them, we met Perfect and Polite - two Care Bears who were pandas and had been missing for just about ever.  Well, long enough to support the plot device of that episode anyway.  The Care Bears give the pandas their own tummy symbols, and they have a hard time controlling them.  Eventually, and much like every single date Joey Gladstone ever had on Full House, we say "see you soon" to the pandas at the end of the episode and they disappear, never to be seen again.
What the cartoon was telling us: It's not okay if you don't fit in.  You need to be just like everyone else to be successful in life. Conform.  Conform!  CONFORM!

1. The Death of Optimus Prime
We've all seen it.  Optimus Prime dies and passes on the Autobot Matrix of Leadership to that pansy Ultra Magnus.  If I talk too much about it, I'll tear up and cry like a baby, so I'll ask this instead: why did the Decepticons want the AUTOBOT Matrix of Leadership so bad?  Didn't they have their own Decepticon one?
What the cartoon was telling us: Your mother and your father are going to die someday, junior.  Learn to deal with it.

And that's all!  I hope I've only slightly ruined your childhood today.  Probably not as much as Milli Vanilli did though.

- ryan

"No kids, Daddy isn't coming home tonight.  Or tomorrow.  Or ever again."

Ryan's Inappropriate Alphabet Book For Intermediate Readers

Just noticed I hadn't posted this into the Blog yet, so enjoy Ryan's Inappropriate Alphabet Book For Intermediate Readers!

Harold, Another Green Apple

Only a handful of apples ever really come to the incredible realization that Harold the Green Apple did that day.  You see, while Harold was a green apple - which is really nothing out of the ordinary as far as green apples go, most of them are different shades of green that sometimes even range into the yellow-ish realm of things - he wasn't the only one of his kind.  He was, however, the only one of his kind - the nothing out of the ordinary green kind with a skin that was nowhere near tinted yellow-ish - to discover the cause and potential solution to his own demise.

Harold, in all of his green glory, was just one of the bushel.  A bushel which in fact was no more than seven apples on this particular day.  Oh, they all had names given to them by whoever it is that gives names to apples, and for sake of argument you could let such labellings as Hector, Helena, or Hugo roll off your tongue, but such details about the other apples in the bushel would be determined as trivial, considering our adventure is about Harold.

Harold knew he was different.  Maybe it was a certain amount of curiosity that floated within his consciousness.  Perhaps it was that he was saving up a degree of bravery for a rainy day.  Some might have suggested that he, quite simply, had an abundant amount of tenured charisma.

What is most certainly for certain is that Harold still had a stem on his top, while the others did not.

Yes, that's correct - Harold was separated by a digit growing out of him that had not fallen or been pulled off, and while the other six apples in the bushel could see this protrusion that had been protruding from him, Harold could not.  And since apples don't speak in the audible languages that we, as human beings, are used to then it was relatively and incredibly impossible for any of the other six apples in the bushel that were also not at all yellowy tinted to let Harold in on the difference that made him different.

As it were, the apples had once taken a vow of silence anyway, and weren't about to break it over a silly little stem that could simply fall out at any inconvenient moment in which someone might just pass by and accidentally bump into their bushel.  Unfortunately, these things do happen.

So it's also safe to say that Harold, also harboring the inability to even look up at his own top, was completely unaware that he even had a stem or was different from the others at all.

It came as a shock to all of them when a larger man, spouting profanities in a European accent - and if you're reading this story somewhere in Europe then feel free to substitute "European accent" for "American accent" or "Islamic accent" or even "Icelandic accent" if you're really full of hatred - grabbed the bushel and proceeded to spill all seven of the apples onto a very clean stainless steel counter top.  If, in fact, Harold couldn't see the stem on his top then he could surely see the collection of well-sharpened kitchen knives in close proximity to him and his bushel companions, all of which - possibly from an unnerving apprehension in this moment - had seemingly started to tint toward a yellowish-ness that they had never tinted towards before.  It was very brief, the yellowing, and they were all most definitely back to their usual green shade within a moment or two.

Soon, an aroma of cinnamon filled the air.  Good cinnamon, the kind your mother's mother would use when baking a pie, which is not to be confused with the discount variety often utilized by large corporate baking facilities that pay their employees in the most minimal of wages.  Harold, entranced by this pleasuring odor, followed the rest of his bushel friends into a round pan, about twelve inches in diameter.  It was like a warm, newly made bed with freshly washed linen that had been air dried on a clothesline in a Spring meadow.  Harold wanted to lay there with his friends and nap for the rest of forever.

Another warm blanket, almost like a comforter, soon covered up Harold and his hardly unique pals.  The darkness that now surrounded them became warmer and warmer until it reached a loving three-hundred and fifty degrees.  The comforter sunk down on them all, and it was at this moment that Harold finally realized he was physically different from the other green apples.  No, he didn't manically believe he was now a yellow apple - or heaven forbid a red apple, because that would be enough to have him tossed into an asylum - but instead discovered that ounce of building bravery that was now stemming from his seeds inside of him.

And stemming is what he did.  His stem, that one iota that made him stand out in a crowd, was no longer simply protruding from his top.  That stem was reaching from his top all the way up, as high as it could go, which just so happened to be just enough of a distance to puncture the comforter that had been keeping the pre-heated darkness inside.

Something funny happens when one apple comes to the realization that they are contrasted from the others in any given bushel.  They desire to fit in, to belong, to kiss the prettiest girl at the high school semi-formal (assuming apples go through such tedious and traditional happenstances) - and when they realize they can't, like Harold did this day, they decide to stick out once and for all - much like the stem on Harold's top did this day - and then fade into obscurity with the rest of the bushel.

And so Harold stuck out, once and for all, and pushed his stem as far up as he could - which was just enough to garner the attention of those with the European (*you know what to do here) accents to pull the snuggling bed out from the three-hundred and fifty degrees.  And upon inspecting the green apples further, they noticed one small stem laying amongst all of the friends who had left the bushel together.  Moments passed, and the assumption determined that something must have been wrong with one of the green apples and thus all of them would be spared.  Many experts would refer to this as quality control.  Others, divine intervention.

A voice in an accent that really doesn't need clarification because it will change from region to region then suggested that yellow apples should have been used all along anyway.

And so, Harold had discovered not only his own demise, but that of his fellow green apples, and in the process assured their safety for the future (well, time being anyway, apples only last a few days once they've been picked) all the while discovering that he was, in fact, different and would now be fitting in for the rest of his days.

At least now Harold finally felt as though he was one of the bushel.  No longer would anyone make a comment having to do with the comparison of him and his greenly, un-yellowishly tinted comrades as being, "like comparing apples and oranges."

The end.

- ryan

Hulkster vs Macho Man - a Musical Battle

Just yesterday, my friend Shelby posted a classic Macho Man Slim Jim commercial to my Facebook page.  Yeah, that brought up a lot of memories of one of my all-time favorite WWF Superstars.

Miss Elizabeth couldn't pick her favorite Mega Powers record... and that's what eventually killed her.  RIP Miss Elizabeth.

But imagine my shock and surprize to learn that she had never heard Randy Savage's rap album.

Nine out of Five stars.

Wait... you mean, YOU'VE NEVER HEARD IT EITHER???

Both "Macho Man" Randy Savage and Hulk Hogan took a break from the ring to release their own albums at one point in their career.  And only two words can truly describe these albums:

BRILLIANT STUPENDOUS CONCEPT ALBUMS.

When I was first getting into WWF (sorry, I refuse to call it WWE) Wrestling in the late 80s, the Mega Powers had just exploded at Wrestlemania V, leading to one of the biggest hyped main events of all-time: Hulk Hogan versus Randy "Macho Man" Savage.

Not only was the WWF Heavyweight Title on the line, but so was Miss Elizabeth's loyalty.

Ever since then, these two have hated each other - even in real life... and probably death too, because Macho Man is unfortunately dropping flying elbows up in heaven these days.  Well, I'm not too certain that the hatred went both ways.  Savage definitely hated Hogan, but I don't think Hulk Hogan can possibly hate anybody.  As long as the Hulkster gets his own way, he's a happy heavyweight champ.

Truly emotional.

Okay, so which wrestling superstar was actually better?  It's a tough one to compare in the ring.  Hulk Hogan was WWF champion more times than Macho Man was.  But, Macho Man was actually a better in-ring performer.  Both were featured in Hollywood movies - let's not forget Macho Man appeared in Spider-Man as Bonesaw and I truly believe Hogan should have won an Academy Award for his portayal of The WWF Heavyweight Champion "Rip" in No Holds Barred.  Nobody but Hulk Hogan could have done as solid of an acting job of bringing Hulk Hogan to life on the big screen.

I think the only way to settle the score once and for all, then, is to compare their albums.  Yep, I've listened to them.  All the way through.  More than once.  More than ten times.  I'm listening to them again right now.

Below you can listen to the entire album, "Be A Man" by Macho Man Randy Savage.  It's a beautiful thing in which you can listen to Savage call out Hogan as a punk, rap a few times about how he's back (at least three different songs), and get sentimental about his dead wrestling buddy, Mr. Perfect.

 

And that was the Hulkster's song, "Hulkster In Heaven" - all about a little boy who died in the hospital, and how sad it is that he won't be able to be the number one Hulkamaniac anymore.  Yeah, that's some real heavy shit there.

For some reason (probably good taste and not copyright) the entire album isn't on YouTube, but here's a link so you can listen to most of "Hulk Rules":

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YsI5bfUIYHQ&list=PL-PdUU-mU5BIISfAjJ1MPPGoiUxFj0d9f

"Smell my finger, brother!"

So, who had the better album?  Would you be surprized to learn that the Hulkster actually plays the bass?  I sure was.  Just as surprized as I was to hear that MACHO MAN CAN ACTUALLY FUCKING RAP.

So the big question is, Is Macho Man's rap album better than Hulk Hogan's self-indulgent tribute album?

Oooooooh yeah!

- ryan

PS - How awesome would it be if Hulk Hogan did a cover album now of Macho Man's rap album?

Prince - Art Official Age & Plectrum Electrum

So, Prince has a couple new albums out this week.  One of them, Plectrum Electrum, has been talked about for quite some time.  It features Prince's all-girl band 3rd Eye Girl and was announced almost a year ago.  Based on the single "Screwdriver" they put out last year, I was really excited for this record.  Then it got delayed and delayed.

Art Official Age

Then a couple months back Prince announced his return to Warner Music and that a new solo album, Art Official Age, would be coming at the same time as Plectrum Electrum.  While it's not uncommon for Prince to release multiple albums on the same day, I was really hoping one wouldn't overshadow the other.

Let's not forget that since Prince is accustomed to giving us almost too much new music all at once, some of it easily gets overlooked.  Yeah, I'm looking at you Emancipation.

When I first read the title "Art Official Age" I thought it was pretty stupid.  It wasn't until I actually listened to the album and realized he's really saying, artificial age... ha ha Prince, you got me again!  You smooth, bad, mother fucker.

The two albums are very different from each other.  While Plectrum Electrum was recorded in analog with a full band, Art Official Age is the soulful R&B-inspired Prince with layered vocals, dubs, sound samples, and synths.   Both, naturally, have a strong funky element to them.  It's Prince, so you can get up and dance if you want to.

Mind you, with that said, I fully expected Art Official Age to have more upbeat dancier songs.  It's definitely not an album full of ballads, but it's not a party album either.  Neither of these new records are Purple Rain, so if you're looking for that sound again... sorry, it's lost in the past and I think Prince is pretty content with that.

The meme that actually inspired a pretty wicked Prince song.  Go figure.

I've always said that Prince's vocals seem to be their best when he's pissed off about something.  He really cuts loose and lets it all out.  We get more of that on Plectrum Electrum, possibly because of the rawer, heavier sound of the music.  I have felt that Prince's vocals on his last few albums (20Ten, Lotusflower, and Planet Earth) were phoned in and almost lazy.  This isn't so on either new album, and it's a breath of fresh air. 

So is it really fair to compare Prince's new music to his hit-peppered past?  Prince does fall into that category of musician who could release the greatest album of his career right now and radio wouldn't even notice because he's too old for the top forty.  But again, I'm not too sure he cares about such things anymore anyway.  With the vocal duties being shared amongst 3rd Eye Girl and some of his proteges, these albums comes across as something of an updated Graffiti Bridge - but without the six or seven bland songs that wound up on that soundtrack.  A couple times, on songs like "Whitecaps" and "Clouds" for instance, the lead vocals are not performed by Prince - and I think those good songs would be great songs with his stylized voice.

I was a little disappointed to see that a song, "Mutiny", wasn't on either album after seeing him play it live on the Arsenio Hall show earlier this year.  I really dug the funky song and fully expected to see it on the new record.  Also, tracks "Breakfast Can Wait" and "Breakdown" were both released earlier in the year as singles.  So if you're a Prince enthusiast, you really only got ten new songs yesterday on this album. 

Plectrum Electrum

As for Art Official Age, the standout tracks are "U Know", "This Could Be Us", the two previously released singles, and "Clouds" (which I secretly hoped he had sampled my Improexophonophelia of the same title ).  The album starts strong, lags a bit with too many slow grooves in the middle, picks it back up with "Funknroll", then slowly drags on again with "Time" (except for the funky horns in the last minute or so of that song) making you wish the album had climaxed with "Funknroll".  There's some really good stuff on this record, it's just too long.  I can also live without the spoken word interludes that seem to appear on Prince albums and always make me cringe.  Keep those spoken word pieces short Prince... ("Wendy? Yes Lisa?  Is the water warm enough? Yes Lisa.  Shall we begin?  Yes Lisa!"..."Welcome 2 The Dawn.  U've just accessed the wild experience.")

Plectrum Electrum simply kicks you in the face and doesn't stop because you aren't asking for any mercy.  At one point, on the title track, I thought we were getting a Zeppelin cover - an obvious borrow/homage to a guitar influence, which continues in Prince's Hendixy/Santana-esque guitar playing.  Standout tracks are: "Whitecaps", "Anotherlove", "Tictactoe", "Marz", and the rocking title track.  I really hope Prince continues working with this group and records more music with them.  He hasn't really sounded this good since the days of the Revolution.  Prince is awesome on his own, but when fronting a band he's unstoppable.

Overall, when we look back on Prince's classic albums - and I'm not going to name them because you already know them - they always were a mishmash  of different styles and themes that all seemed to come together as one collective unit.  On these new outings, it's clear Prince is trying to keep those styles separate from each other.  And what that does, is take away from the je ne sais pas of it all... the whole wonderment of What Is Prince Going To Show Us Next?  I hate to drag out his past, but when you'd flow through the track listing of Purple Rain, most of those songs shouldn't be side by side on the record.  But they are.  And that's why it works.  For a period of five to ten years, Prince did anything and everything he wanted.  And we ate it up. One new song, "Funknroll", appears on both albums in different versions.  Is one better than the other? That's really up to you to decide, as 'better' is just a matter of taste.  And either way, it tastes like purple.

- ryan
 
PS - Just for the record, when listening to Plectrum Electrum this morning for the first time, I was cooking up some pancakes for my wife.  High five, if you catch that reference.

PPS - Prince's drummer, Hannah Ford, is a total babe.

Does Prince Not Like His Own Legs?

Hmmmm.....

While reviewing/listening to the two new Prince albums that came out yesterday, Art Official Age and Plectrum Electrum, I decided to look over the vast array of albums he's released over the years.  One thing oddly stuck out and struck me as curious.

Does Prince not like his own legs? 

On his album covers he always seems to be shot from the waist up.

Check these out while I finish writing my review of his new records.

Parade... maybe Prince's legs were too busy dancing in the "Kiss" video to show up for the photo shoot.

Planet Earth ... in this one he blocks the view of his legs with a planet.  And it looks like the Death Star is back there too.

Art Official Age... "Goldenlegs" could be a cool James Bond villain.

Dirty Mind... I actually don't wanna see his legs in this picture

Controversy... yep, still no legs.

Prince... his legs must be off purifying themselves in the waters of Lake Minnetonka

Breakfast Can Wait (he must not like Chappelle's legs either)

- ryan