Saturday, January 21, 2012


I think everyone will agree that there are some things in the world that can be improved.  Not everyone agrees on what those things are, or how they can be fixed.  But, if the powers that be take a look at my blog from time to time, I'll try to list some of the things that I know for sure are just plain screwed up. I won't pretend to have all of the solutions, but I can certainly spot the problems.  

Here is the first installment of what I hope will be a running feature in this blog (and maybe even  eventually get turned into a book, because that's where the big money is)


Every movie costs the same.  You can go see a low budget supernatural paranormal shot-on-video for $20,000, or you can see the latest 100 million buck Michael Bay bonanza (perhaps even based on Bonanza), but it will cost you the same amount of money at the neighborhood movie house.  At that same movie house, you pay for popcorn according to how much you get, but if you see a 90 minute movie, it costs the same as a two hour movie.  The only thing you usually pay extra for is an extra dimension.

It doesn't really make a lot of sense.

Books are priced according to length, author, size, shape, and any other reason.

At a fast food establishment, you pay for the food according to size/amount.

Even when you buy the movie you saw in the theater on DVD, some are more expensive than others.

One other area where the pay-the-same-price philosophy seems to apply is on iTunes, where most songs, films and TV shows have a set cost.  Most of the time, this seems to make sense, but I have found one glaring instance where the pricing structure seems absurd.  If you go to iTunes, you can buy the Bruce Springsteen classic "Born to Run" for only $1.29.  This is a wonderful thing.  In 1975, when the song came out, a gallon of gas cost 44 cents, the average new car cost 4,250 and a 45 recording of "Born to Run" would have cost you about a dollar .  Wow.  Gas goes up 1000%  Automobile prices are up 400% and music is only up a few cents.

So, if this is such a bargain, where is the absurdity in iTunes pricing?  

While you can buy the Boss' rendition of "Born to Run" for $1.29, you can also buy the same song performed by Suzi Quatro for the same exact price.  Remember Suzi Quatro?  

She is a great singer -- you may remember her hit "Devil Gate Drive" but she may be best known for her hip-slapping-finger-shooting role as Leather Tuscadero on "Happy Days."

Now, I love Suzi Quatro and my 12-year-old self had a minor crush on her (somewhere between Kim Richards and Lynda Carter), but there is no economic system on in the universe in which Suzi Quatro's and Bruce Springsteen's recordings of "Born to Run" should cost the same amount of money.

iTunes isn't totally blind to musical justice, though.  Don McLean's "American Pie" costs $1.29 while The Brady Bunch's cover costs only .99.  However, on closer examination, the abridged Brady Bunch version is only 3 minutes and 38 seconds, or a little more than a half-cent per second.  The full Don McLean version is 8:32, or less than 3 tenths of a cent per second.

Yup, when unit pricing is taken into consideration, the Brady Bunch's recording of one of the most important songs in American music costs more than its legendary original recording.

This day, the day I made this troubling calculation, shall be forever known to me as the day the music died.

Saturday, January 7, 2012


Ken Levine, one of the best bloggers around, periodically posts excerpts from his book about growing up in the 1960's. 

I have decided to periodically post about growing up in the 1970's.   Generally, I really enjoyed my childhood.  It was the decade of "Star Wars," "Happy Days," "Match Game 70-whatever," "The Muppets," "The Odd Couple" and "Musicradio WABC."

But there were some bad things about the 1970's.  Some people would name Watergate at the top of the list, but to a child, that wouldn't even make the list.  Here is the first installment of what I hope will be many postings about...

The worst things about growing up in the 70's.

Number 1: G.I. Joe Feet.  

The 11-inch G.I. Joe action figure was one of the all time best toys ever created.  I had several, including an African-American member of the Adventure Team which broke the color barrier in my toy box and opened the door to an African American Big Jim (Mattel's action figure which looked a little like a muscular Ken Doll) and an African American Action Jackson (the 8-inch Mego figure).  I wish I could say that this was a grand plan on my Mom's part to teach me about equality and civil rights, but my mom usually just bought the toys that were on sale, and in our mostly Caucasian area in New Jersey, the African American Joes were overstocked.  But, the discounts at the Rockaway Sales department store brought diversity to my playtime, and my own G.I. Joe Adventure Team was a force with which to be reckoned.

Sadly, not unlike the current forces of the U.S. military from which the G.I. Joe received its name, my platoon of G.I. Joe's had to make do with less than a perfect armory of equipment and weapons.

As I hinted at earlier, my Mom's search for sale prices was paramount in her purchasing motivation as the quartermaster for my troops.  My G.I. Joe Helicopter was picked up as an open-box bargain and thus, had a couple of pieces missing (Who needs landing gear, anyway? Helicopters are for hovering, right?)  My. G.I. Joe headquarters was a very cheaply made, vinyl-covered cardboard fold-up doohickey made by a competing toy company.

My Troubleshooter vehicle was mostly intact - only the windshield was missing, but Mom managed to get a really good deal.  We would never be able to afford a Troubleshooter for my Adventure team on our 1974 household's military budget.

Trades with neighbors brought me an undersea rocket sled and a few other cool items.

Uniforms were very rare to come by. There was no way my Mom would buy me more uniforms for my G.I. Joe when I was badly in need of new Toughskins myself.  One summer, I was able to get a nice short-sleeved jumpsuit for my Joes when a local toy store donated one for the backyard carnival for Muscular Dystrophy I was holding.  (No, I didn't swipe it -- a family member won it and gave it to me as a reward for a doing a good thing for Jerry's kids.  Jerry sent me a certificate, too).

Apart from that very casual and not-very G.I. Joe-like uniform, my Joes usually had to settle for the clothing they came in.  The Eight Ropes of Danger deep-sea diving suit and the space suit were always elusive (until a few years ago when they put out special collector's editions).  

On the other hand, my Action Jacksons had quite a large wardrobe since they were always having closeouts on their clothes at the Two Guys department store.  But, I digress.

While my G.I. Joes didn't have a lot of clothes, that didn't stop me from having them change their gear.  When I was playing with my friends and their Joes, we would always swap outfits.  Unfortunately, the feet of G.I. Joes in that era were not very securely attached to the legs.  Since boots would always go missing, my mom would always purchase the cheap replacement boots in big bags made by a company other than Hasbro.  Some toy company that probably no longer exists would make a bag full of boots, guns and knives that would sell for a ridiculously low price and wait on a peg at the Two Guys for my mom to buy them.

At first it was exciting to get more weapons for the armory and shoes for my Joes, but the excitement would turn to frustration when I tried to pull this ersatz footwear off the brand name feet.  The boots would come off -- with the feet inside them.  

This is probably the first lesson I received in the consumer rule "you get what you pay for."  My personal take on this rule is to add "Usually" to the end of the statement, because thanks to the regular sidewalk sales at the local department stores (this was an era before malls and big box stores), we also got brand name stuff for low prices.  

My dad would get his pair of long nose pliers and perform a foot-ectomy with the precision and experience he gained as an Air Force medic in Germany in the 1950's.  Usually, both foot and boot were separated without damage, but on occasion the boots were sacrificed.  

The feet would be inserted back into the legs and there they would stay… until the next time I took off a boot.  

I can still see the white plastic foot stump sticking out of the boot.  It remains to this day one of the saddest sights in the world. Many of you will never understand this feeling.  Some of you will.   

So there you have it…  The worst things about growing up in the 1970's, Number 1: G.I. Joe Feet.

Tune in for future installments, including the tale of the Aquaman action figure that couldn't be put in water.  (Unfortunately, I didn't find that out until after the water destroyed the thin elastic cord that held his Mego-made body together).

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

Near Mint

Altoids are great for convenience. They come in nice easy-to-open tins.  And, after one finishes the mints, you can keep the tins for your collection of souvenir pressed pennies.  
Personally, I don't care for the mints themselves.  I prefer Certs, the most inconvenient mints there are.  Certs are packaged in paper tubes just like Lifesavers.  You have to peel them open and there's no great way to reseal them.

And now, as though that's not bad enough, there are some new problems for Certs.

I visited Amazon to see if I could buy a bulk package of Certs.  After all, Amazon has everything.  I was a little concerned when I saw this.

The word "used" concerns me.  "Used" mints?  Now, I love a good deal, but I prefer my mints to be new and unused.  I don't think that's too much to ask.  There may be some weird people who like a third party to break in their mints, but I'm not one of them.  

This is probably some standard Amazon language, but just in case, I thought I would compose an open letter to the Certs people:

Dear Certs,

1.  Come up with better packaging.

2.  Try to clamp down on the black market selling of used mints.  No one likes used mints.  

Sunday, January 1, 2012

The Second One

It's been a year since the first one.

My New Year's resolution is to actually try to blog in 2012.

To start things off with a bang, let's put up a fun photo from my archives.  Please enjoy this rare image of Charles Nelson Reilly feeding an Elephant seal in a 1974 TV special entitled "Monty Hall at Sea World."

While I have no idea where you can see this special, if you have any desire to do so, I encourage you to watch "The Life of Reilly," a documentary featuring Charles in his one-man-show.  It streams on Netflix.