Archive for July, 2011

My Millennium Falcon.


2011
07.23

Kenner Milennium Falcon box top

Here’s yet another prized toy from my childhood, which ranks amongst the “Top 5 Most Awesome Things I Ever Owned As A Kid That I Would Never Get Rid of Even If You Payed Me,” if there was ever such a category.

Unfortunately, though, I was never one of those kids that thought, “Hey, maybe 30 years from now I’m gonna still cherish this thing like it was yesterday. I better take good care of it.” No way. I’m just lucky that my dad was (and still is) a packrat. I guess I take after him in that way myself. Heck, look at this thing—it was buried under clutter and junk since the ’80s.

Kenner Millennium Falcon toy

And yes, my dear ducklings, I have the toy too, not just the box. Much to my chagrin, though, it’s missing parts. Ironically, parts that I kept seeing even through my teenage years, strewn in various random locations here and there at my parents’ house. And what would I say? “Oh look, there’s that radar dish from my Falcon. Haha. I remember that. Ok let’s go get some wine coolers.”

These days, like any other 40-something looking to recapture his/her childhood, there’s always Ebay to find those stray parts. I just may be lucky and find all of them. Or, I can find someone ditching their old Millennium Falcon and part it out. Hmm. Sure.

Kenner Millennium Falcon toy detail (undercarriage)

Those tiny mold spots are not from the Falcon’s travels through the Dagobah System, but I can always say they are. They do kinda look like battle damage, right? Or just an acute case of Interstellar Leprosy. Nice going with the ramp there, eh? Good luck holding your breath during Hyperdrive. And gosh darn it, I used to kick around those stray struts like twigs around the house. Geez.

Kenner Millennium Falcon box rear view

Nevertheless, I leave you, for now, with a shot of the back. See that kid’s face? That’s some genuine illustrated freakin’ bliss right there. Yes siree. I’m telling you, the Millennium Falcon was like the Rolls-Royce of toys in ’79–’80. I bet if you took a montage of every single kid’s facial expression when they received that toy those days, we would all look exactly like that illustrated kid, helmet-headed and everything.

If you haven’t yet taken the opportunity to click the pics, you may do so now at your leisure. They will bring you to my Flickr Photostream, where many more pics of the toy and box are awaiting your much-needed attention. Enjoy and have a great weekend.

Friday 5: Similes, Part 2


2011
07.23

Believe me, I don’t mean to only have Friday 5s on here, but I’ve been totally busy lately. I’ve had time to post some pics on Flickr, just not any time to write about ‘em.

Anyways, here we go again. As usual, brought to you by your friends at Friday5.org.

1. What’s your best advice for someone who’s as drunk as a skunk?

Enjoy your journey of “uninhibited-ness” for as long as you can, yet responsibly if possible. Some things to consider for your safety and the safety of others:

Address people respectfully. You can’t fight worth a crap when you’re drunk.
Practice safe sex.
I cannot stress enough—do not drive, and don’t let any other skunk take you for a ride either. Avoid heavy machinery, rooftop ledges, active train tracks, etc.

2. What’s your best advice for someone who’s as busy as a bee?
Being busy is great, but don’t work yourself to the bone. Every now and then, take a moment to breathe and smell the roses.

3. What’s your best advice for someone who’s as nutty as a fruitcake?
You go, girl (or boy). Don’t let anyone tell you how you gotta be.

4. What’s your best advice for someone who’s as sick as a dog?
Perhaps you should see a doctor?

5. What’s your best advice for someone who’s as ugly as sin?
I’m a firm believer that beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

Friday 5: Long Journeys


2011
07.16

Once again, brought to you by Friday5.org.

Long Journeys.

1. What is the longest distance you’ve traveled (in one trip) by foot?

Hmm. I’d probably have to say down Market Street in San Francisco on New Year’s Eve, 2007. It was after Hepcat’s New Year’s Eve show at Slim’s, sometime around 1:30-2 A.M. My cousin Rob and I had taken a cab to the show from our hotel and couldn’t find a cab back, so we hoofed it. I don’t even know the distance, but it seemed like forever. It was pretty surreal. The streets were actually pretty empty, except for some gutter punks and vagrants who sat on the sidewalk. One of them was passed out in his own fresh vomit. Happy New Year’s.

2. What is the longest trip you’ve taken by car?

In one sitting? Definitely taking the 395 Freeway North up to Dayton, Nevada from Los Angeles, to visit family. 10 hrs. straight, in the middle of the night. Another surreal journey that was literally a two-lane highway in pitch black darkness. I think the whole way up on that highway we must have passed 1-2 cars max. It was the first time I’d seen “one-light towns” and the sign for Camp Manzanar.

3. What is the longest trip you’ve taken by plane?

The 15-hour flight to and from De Pilipins. Good ol’ Pan Am. I did this a couple of times. Then in 1980, on the way back, I had the longest nosebleed ever, and caught Pneumonia when I got home. Yay.

4. What is the longest trip you’ve taken on some kind of water craft?

Definitely during a patrol with River Division 54 on the Nha Be River in ’67. We had to keep Charlie from the Mekong—oh wait, that wasn’t that long of a trip.

De Pilipins wins once again. This time, a small, rickety boat from Marinduque (a small island) to Manila, which was about a 40-mile trip. The seas were rough and the deck was slick with vomit from seasick passengers (Hmm, vomit is quite the commonality in my longest journeys). May have been the worst ride ever, but surely an unforgettable experience which I’m glad to have survived. Made me see how much I took for granted.

5. What is the longest trip you’ve taken aboard a bus or train?
Not long by distance, but time-wise—the RTD bus from Bell to Santa Monica, CA. 3+ hours. And the seats were slick with fresh vomit the whole time. Kidding. However, I will say that one time, on a #3 Blue Bus in Santa Monica on a hot summer day, I was sitting by someone who was completely wasted (or sick, or both) and was barfing profusely into a plastic bag, which was plump with hot, sour-smelling vomit. The whole bus reeked of it, and I almost vomited myself, from the smell.

Kids Crossing. No, really. Kids Crossing.


2011
07.09

Kids Crossing. No, really. Kids Crossing.

It often pays to stray off the beaten path. I wasn’t about to try to take the 10 Eastbound from Downtown L.A. to Bell in the middle of the afternoon rush, so I decided to head South on Main to South Broadway instead.

Just South of 42nd Street or so began a strip of small latin mom n’ pop shops—everything from carnicerias to kids’ clothing shops and what not. The one thing I notice about affluent latin neighborhoods are the abundance of hand-painted signs, especially those adorning store fronts and shop windows. Very common too is the appearance of the Virgen de Guadalupe, Mexico’s most revered Catholic icon.

Yet, a little after 47th Street, we had our own spiritual sighting—this time, JC himself—in the most unlikely of places: on the back of an ice cream truck.

One thing I wonder—is it purely coincidental, or an intended pun, that the sign says “kids crossing/niños crusando?”

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