Dr. Franklin's brilliant idea

Still on the subject of the miserable summer weather (it's cloudy and drizzly yet again today), I got to thinking. Wouldn't it be nice to have one's own weather control device? Something to make the sun shine when you wished. The rain fall when you wished (preferably overnight). The crisp breezes of autumn arrive when you wished.




Much like the device invented by that OSI outcast of the 70's: Dr. Franklin. Of course, I would use my weather control device only for good. Never for evil. And I wouldn't build any Fembots.




Unless it was close to Halloween.

Happy 100th, Mr. Price

As a longtime fan of Vincent Price, I couldn't allow his 100th birthday to go unnoticed. Not when I've relished his spooky presence in countless film, television and radio appearances.

But how did I discover the wonderful creepiness of Vincent Price? A late-night movie? An old horror radio show? A record of scary tales one Halloween night? No . It was none of these. My earliest memory of Vincent Price came via The Bionic Woman.




The Bionic Woman was the favourite television show of my 12 year-old self and Jaime Sommers was my idol. So when an episode entitled Black Magic appeared, I was quite naturally positioned in front of our television set. A spooky old house and an eccentric cast of characters made it one of my favourites. And perhaps the most eccentric character of all was a weird old man who had gathered his relatives together for the reading of a will. Classic.

I believe it was my mother who informed me that this weird old man was Vincent Price and that he had a long history of spookiness. It was the beginning of a beautiful, albeit one-sided, relationship.

death comes to town

Suddenly, the new show's trailers are everywhere. So I have no excuse for missing it. I am eagerly anticipating the return of the Kids in the Hall next week. They've been away far too long. They're back, but for eight weeks only, in the murder mystery Death Comes To Town, which has been described as Corner Gas meets Twin Peaks. And rumour has it the Chicken Lady will be making an appearance. Can it get any better than that? I remain cautiously optimistic.

snow

The storm had been predicted for nearly a week. It was coming, they said. And it was huge. I sat devotedly in front of the Weather Network, my senses attuned to every update. Every change in wind direction. Every fluctuation in the jet stream. I watched the news reports from Washington. New York. Boston. Record-breaking snowfall. Stranded motorists. Chaos. And it was moving up the coast. I rushed out gleefully in advance of the first snowflakes to stock up on essentials. Milk. Bread. Eggnog. Whiskey. I pulled out some classic Christmas movies. I was ready.

And yes, there was snow. And wind. And for a few brief hours, it might even have been called a snowstorm. And then, it was gone. Leaving in its wake a thin layer of white, increasing temperatures, and the promise of rain.

I feel cheated.

But I did get to enjoy a holiday classic. One that has become a yearly tradition. Xmas Story is not a movie. Rather it is a Christmas episode of Futurama. But a classic Christmas episode of Futurama nonetheless.



Who could not love the robot Santa of the future. With his bright red suit and his exacting standards. Jack Skellington would have met his match in this guy.

Boris Karloff Blogathon: Mr. Grinch

It wasn't long after my introduction to Boris Karloff through Tales of Mystery, the comic book which bore his name, that I made another astounding discovery.



Sitting in front of our floor-model black-and-white television one December evening, engrossed in the yearly presentation of How the Grinch Stole Christmas, I noticed a familiar name pass by among the credits: Boris Karloff. The creepy comic book guy!

Apparently, he was narrating the story. And giving a voice to the Grinch. Well, that certainly explained it. No wonder this Grinch character seemed a little disturbing. No wonder I covered my eyes during the scene in which ". . . the Grinch had a wonderful, awful idea."



Years later, long after I was able to watch the entire cartoon without even once covering my eyes, Dr. Seuss's tale of Christmastime redemption became a favourite holiday bedtime story for my children. And each time I read the story aloud, I'd try to mimic Karloff's voice. The rhythm. The cadence. The intonations. With only limited success of course. Because his was the definitive Grinch. The perfect voice. The way the story should be told.

His voice and persona made him an ideal choice to narrate the story. Despite Dr. Seuss's fear that he would make the Grinch too scary. Instead, he helped make it a classic, which went on to win a Grammy when it was released as a spoken word recording.



I still watch it whenever I encounter it on television during the Christmas season. Even though I now own a copy. And if asked to list my favourite Boris Karloff performances, The Grinch would be a close second only to Frankenstein's monster.

Source

to boldly go . . .

As the virus that has invaded my home sensed my presence and began its assault, I turned, as I have so many times before, to a favourite and cherished comfort food for the soul. Original Star Trek. Because nothing eases the discomfort of a horrible cold like immersion in the futuristic adventures of Kirk, Spock, and McCoy. Complete with visible strings attached to the star ships and walls that shudder when the turbo lift opens. All part of the charm.



And yesterday, as if knowing that I would need this long-treasured comfort, the stars aligned and the DVD of the new Star Trek film was released.



No visible strings here. But it stayed remarkably true to the spirit of the original. I knew it was just what I needed. I dragged myself off to purchase it and then settled in on the couch. And when it had ended, my mind drifted to next Halloween.

Okay, perhaps the path in my mind from Star Trek to Halloween 2010 was not quite so straightforward. But the film reminded me of the original series. Which reminded me of the original actors. Which reminded me of Walter Koenig, who played Chekov. Which reminded me that he will be in Halifax next year for the first (and hopefully annual) sci-fi/comic convention, Hal-Con. Which reminded me that the organizers had inexplicably decided to hold the event on the last weekend in October. Which reminded me that I would need a costume for both Hal-Con and Halloween on the same weekend. Which reminded me that I should start planning early to avoid complete insanity next October.



But what to do?

My first idea was one costume that I could wear at both the con and on Halloween night. This idea was quickly scrapped. I tend to be a Halloween traditionalist and have never made flying saucers or aliens or vortexes part of my celebrations. And probably never will. I couldn't imagine a costume I would be happy with that could be worn both nights. Moving on then, I thought perhaps one of the costumes could be very simple and one more elaborate. Perhaps a detailed costume for Halloween; and for the con, an anonymous, doomed Star Trek red-shirt?



Too simple.

Or perhaps a more original costume for the con. . .





. . . and something basic for Halloween.



But only this year had I finally broken my habit of leaving my costume until the last minute and resorting to something mundane. Never again.

So at the moment I remain undecided. And still sick. And with only eleven short months to prepare. Perhaps a little more classic Star Trek and inspiration will strike.

treehouse of horror XX

Rejoice!

This year The Simpsons' Treehouse of Horror actually appeared before Halloween. And from the Hitchcock homage to the final musical number, it didn't disappoint. This year's episode was made even more enjoyable by skeleton cookies. But I digress. More on those later.

lost and found

I've been distracted lately. Not making many blog posts. Not spending much time on-line. Not reading much. Not keeping up with yard work. Or housework. I've been struggling with an addiction. But I think I've got it under control.

I don't watch much television. True, it's not so long ago that I lived for Battlestar Galactica on Fridays. But those days are gone. Recently, my viewing has consisted of the 6 o'clock news and Coronation Street. And I'll sometimes stop by to see who George is chatting with on The Hour. But that's it.

But then one day, I was listening to a favourite podcast and amongst the chatter, the subject of Lost came up. This is a show I had never seen. Partly because of the aforementioned lack of television watching and partly because I understood it to be the sort of series you can't just weave in and out of. You have to have been there from Day One. So I thought, why not. Most of the series is on DVD. I could start at the beginning. Perhaps watch an episode or two a week and have caught up on the plot by the time the final season arrived in 2010.

Serious mistake.

Because, much like potato chips, you can't have just one. With four episodes on each disc, my planned one or two a week quickly became two or three a day. And no sooner did I finish one disc than I found myself at Blockbuster renting the next one. Yes, it is truly an insidious addiction. I had to have more. I had to know. What is the smoke monster? Who are The Others? Why is Hurley not losing weight? I no longer worry about watching every episode before 2010. I'm approaching the end of Season 3. I'll have seen them all before the end of June.

But I'm confident that I now have it under control. I've begun to pace myself. To force myself to do something else. Anything else. And so far it's working. I will not be visiting Blockbuster today. Really.

But if I contemplate carving Hurley's face into a pumpkin, I'll know I've passed the point of no return.

next stop . . . the twilight zone

No time for a Mother's Day post yesterday. Too busy enjoying my dinner and gift. There is certainly something comforting about tradition. If it's a tradition that you enjoy. On Mother's Day, I can expect to have dinner at one of my favourite Chinese restaurants. Which I did. And because my children have come to know me well over the years, I can expect them to pool their meagre funds and present me with a gift card to Chapters. Which they did.

So after filling up on fried won-tons and Kung Po chicken, I grasped my shiny new gift card and drove off to browse contentedly. Because contrary to what the greeting cards say, sometimes the best part of Mother's Day is the time you have to yourself. Ironically, I can usually list several books I would love to have at any given moment. But when I have cash (or gift card) in hand, I can't seem to find any of them. And then, when I had almost given up hope, I saw it. A new book celebrating one of the greatest television shows ever produced. And rather than an encyclopedic listing of every episode, this book promised to delve deeper. Focusing on half the episodes and exploring Rod Serling's intentions, ideas and connections to each one.

My Mother's Day was complete.

I hurried home, made a cup of tea, grabbed a pillow and blanket, and settled in on the couch.

Nothing says "Happy Mother's Day" like creepy apparitions, misshapen aliens and a gnawing sense of unease.

Hopefully, everyone's day was as enjoyable.

which Witch Hazel?

I grew up in rural Cape Breton in the 1970's. Which means that I, and other television-loving children like me, had the overwhelming choice of two channels. CBC and CTV. And the French version of CBC, but that didn't count. That being said, two programs loomed large in my young life. The Bugs Bunny and Road Runner Hour on Saturdays at 6pm and The Wonderful World of Disney on Sundays at 6pm.

Years of devoted Bugs Bunny watching have resulted in the wascally wabbit's exploits being seared into my memory and I can't count the number of times I've watched him outwit or otherwise escape from poor old Witch Hazel.

From the first time he encountered her in Bewitched Bunny. Where Bugs was able to save Hansel and Gretel (and himself) with the aid of some "magic powder".

And later when he arrived at her door one Halloween night in Broomstick Bunny. And foiled her goal of being the ugliest witch in the land.

Until finally, when for reasons never explained, he was held captive in A Witch's Tangled Hare before playing matchmaker to Hazel and William Shakespeare.

Through the years, I never felt much sympathy for Bugs' broom-wielding nemesis. She was mean. Greedy. Cruel. Shrill. Not at all like that nice Witch Hazel in the Disney cartoon, Trick or Treat. The one who helped Huey, Dewey and Louie take their Halloween revenge on Donald after he greeted them with tricks instead of treats.


This Witch Hazel had a soft side. A sweetness. She seemed as though she could be the other Witch Hazel's hillbilly cousin. But I never suspected for a minute that they might actually be related.

But related they are. As I discovered when, like the Special Features addict I am, I absorbed every moment of the interviews and documentaries included with my classic Looney Tunes collection.

The story goes that Disney's Witch Hazel appeared on the scene first. Brought to life by the wonderful voice actor, June Foray. The story is well-known. Hazel swooped into Duckburg one Halloween night, stayed long enough to make Donald's life miserable (which is never difficult to do), and then she was gone. But she had not gone unnoticed.

She had caught the attention of Chuck Jones, who thought a witch named Hazel would be an ideal match for Bugs Bunny. And he asked June Foray to put on the witch's hat once more. She said no. Not because of any dislike of Hazel, but because she feared Disney would sue. After all, Warner Brothers was using the same name for their character, even if she bore absolutely no resemblance to her predecessor.

But Disney didn't sue. But not because of a sudden burst of old-fashioned Halloween spirit. No. Apparently it was because witch hazel is the name of an unassuming little plant and the medicine derived from it. Disney held no rights to it. Which is why witches named Hazel can pop up anywhere. Disney. Warner Brothers. Little Lulu. Tom and Jerry. Sabrina. And probably a zillion other places I'm not aware of.

So June Foray stepped under the witch's hat for Bugs Bunny's next two encounters with Hazel.

I think that learning the history of the Hazels makes me feel a little closer to both of them. Although if I had to encounter one of them on Halloween night, I think I'd prefer Disney's version. Altogether a kinder, gentler Hazel. The other Hazel would have me constantly looking over my shoulder.

I was reminded of the two Witch Hazels recently while gathering up my remaining VHS tapes and deciding which of them to part with and which to keep a little longer. While I own most of Bugs Bunny's run-ins with Witch Hazel on DVD, I'm still holding on to my VHS copy of Trick-or-Treat. At least until I get around to picking it up on a DVD collection. Or maybe Blu-ray if I wait long enough. Whatever I end up with, it has to have Special Features. Plenty of Special Features.

cylon-o-lantern

This weekend (last night at 11pm AST to be precise) after seven long months of waiting, Battlestar Galactica returned with the first of its final ten episodes. And it was truly a night for celebration. But what does that have to do with Halloween?

Well . . . in honour of its return, I am exploring the process involved in creating a Cylon jack-o-lantern. I knew I had seen one of these somewhere before and tracked it down at Evil Mad Scientist Laboratories. The entire process is conveniently outlined on the website.

It looked simple enough. It's just a pumpkin after all. Sharpie markers, pumpkin carving knives, zesters, tweezers . . . all of which I feel I could confidently handle. I even got past the early discussion of integrated circuits because they were introduced in such a friendly, non-threatening way. When I reached the section entitled Electronics, however, I felt the first wave of concern flood over me. And by the time I got to the phrase, "CD4017 decimal counter chip", my eyes had begun to glaze over. Needless to say, I didn't even make it to the wiring diagrams. A clever idea, certainly, but far, far, far beyond my abilities.

No, if I ever decide to bring some Battlestar Galactica into my Halloween celebrations (which, being a Halloween traditionalist, I likely never will), it would have to be a decidedly lower-tech approach. Maybe I could carve a hole in the bottom of the pumpkin, put my hand inside, and slowly move a red light back and forth . . . back and forth. It could work. In the meantime, I'm content to admire the talent of others.

the healing power of Star Trek

Whenever I wake up with a headache that simply refuses to go away, as I did today, I turn first to natural remedies before resorting to medication. I like to follow a four-pronged approach: blanket, couch, tea, old TV shows on DVD. Actually, that isn't entirely true. Only my current unemployed state allows me to follow this natural approach in the middle of the day; otherwise, I'd be swallowing painkillers and trudging off to work through the cold slush and falling snow.

But today I had the luxury of indulging myself and, being a huge fan of the original series, I turned to the healing power of Star Trek. I own all of the seasons on DVD, which means I am not at the whim of whatever reruns the networks choose for my viewing pleasure. So, blanket in hand, I settled back on the couch with a hot cup of tea and put in Catspaw.

Star Trek isn't known for its holiday specials, but if ever there was a Halloween episode of Star Trek (and I don't think there was another one) this is it. The beginning is spookily atmospheric: swirling fog, ghostly apparitions, witches, black cats, skeletons, and a decidedly haunted-looking castle. Scotty, Sulu, and McCoy are zombified and references are made to Halloween and trick-or-treat. Kirk promises Spock an explanation of these concepts, but never delivers. Hopefully, poor bewildered Spock received an explanation off-camera. As the story unfolds, the Enterprise crew has been drawn to this gothic planet so that the aliens who inhabit it can use the crew's knowledge and abilities to experience "sensations" for themselves. All the talk about feelings and sensations leads of course to the inevitable love scene between Kirk and the female alien. Otherwise, this just would not be a Star Trek episode.

In the end, all turns out well for the crew (with the exception of the red-shirt who lost his life in the opening minutes). But that's the risk you take when you're a minor character in a red shirt. We are never given a reason for the aliens' choice of Halloween imagery in the creation of their artificial world. It likely had something to do with the episode originally airing a few days before Halloween. And that's a good enough reason for me.

And yes, by the end of the episode, my headache was gone, thanks to the magic of Star Trek . . . and perhaps those two extra-strength Advil I ended up taking.

bewitched in salem

Samantha . . . immortalized in Salem, where else? I loved this show as a child and my first awareness of Salem and its witchcraft trials can likely be traced to references in several Bewitched episodes. Incredibly, people protested at the statue's unveiling three years ago, stating that it trivialized the city's history, particularly the witchcraft trials of 1692. Hmmmm . . . trivialized the city's history. Clearly, none of the protesters has walked through downtown Salem in October.