The simplest terms, the most convenient definitions.

Thirty (fictitious) years ago today, a brain, an athlete, a basketcase, a princess, and a criminal walked into Shermer High School to serve a day of detention. In their honor, I spent the evening watching one of John Hughes’ masterpieces.

Something I noticed was how many lines from this movie I still quote on a regular basis. These include:

You keep eating your hand, you’re not gonna be hungry for lunch. (Said often to teething babies.)

Could you describe the ruckus, sir? (You’d be surprised how often I can work this into a conversation.)

You mess with the bull, young man, you get the horns. (Inflection is key here.)

Do you think I’d speak for you? I don’t even know your language. (Said in response to “Speak for yourself.” Every time.)

I’m not that pristine. (Many uses.)

Screws fall out all the time; the world’s an imperfect place. (Sometimes I just say it to myself when things are not going well.)

Sadly, I rarely get the chance to ask this: Does Barry Manilow know you raid his wardrobe?

Still one of the best lines of dialog ever written.

It’s March 24th. Settle in, make yourself a pixie stix/Cap’n Crunch sandwich, and write a 1,000-word essay on who you think you are. 

And I do not mean a single word repeated 1,000 times.

Movie Day

Over the Christmas break, Julia made me watch her new DVD The Croods with her, and I came upon the depressing realization that it was the only Golden Globe nominated movie I’d seen. The Oscars noms will be coming soon and I’m woefully unprepared. So, in a desperate attempt to get a jump on what may be nominated for Oscars, I had a movie day yesterday.

I figured I’d better see this before it’s out of theaters. The black hole between theater release and DVD release has wrecked many an Oscar-readiness attempt. I enjoyed it a lot more than I thought I would. The visuals are stunning and the story was unexpectedly moving. Also, after being reminded what a dreadful, horrifying void space is, I felt anew the amazement that NASA was able to rescue astronauts Lovell, Swigert, and Haise. Space is a nightmare.

I didn’t enjoy this as much as I thought I would. I loved the clothes and the music (it has got a marvelous 70s soundtrack), but it felt like the story was trying to be Goodfellas or Casino with the voiceover narration and telling of a true but retro story, and it wasn’t as good as either of those movies. Also I felt like Christian Bale was doing a DeNiro impersonation the whole time and I wanted to slap Bradley Cooper every single moment he was onscreen, which is a new experience for me.

I love the Coen Brothers. If you love them, you will love this film. It’s more in the vein of Barton Fink and A Serious Man than Fargo and Raising Arizona. But the real star is the soundtrack. I downloaded it as soon as the credits began to roll.

I capped it all off with a midnight showing of the 1984 masterpiece The Neverending Story, and left the theater with this wonderful sound in my ears:

May the Schwartz be with you.

This past weekend, I headed up to the AFI Silver Theater for a showing of Spaceballs. That's right, Spaceballs. It was the crown jewel of their Awesome 80s series, and I was delighted to get to see such a classic on the big screen. I expected to find maybe 20 or 30 people when I arrived. Imagine my surprise to see a crowd of hundreds.

Apparently it was the 25th anniversary of Spaceballs (25 years?!) and the theater was hosting a huge event. There was a raffle for copies of the anniversary Blu-ray, an Imperial Death Star Officer cap, and a couple of sweet lightsabers, none of which I won. Alas.

It was really cool to be in a crowded theater of people who were all yelling in unison, "What's the matter Colonel Sandurz? CHICKEN?"

They were also handing out lightsaber lollipops at the door which they encouraged us to light up and wave around at key moments in the film, such as the famous Schwartz battle between Dark Helmet and Lone Starr. James, you shoulda been there.

My lightsaber lollipop.  I chose Vader red over Skywalker green .

And it lights up. For tiny battles.

Now you see that evil will always triumph because good is dumb.

Ready Player One

I just started reading this book and I’m loving it so much. It’s set in a dystopian future where an eccentric billionaire video game designer, who had been a teenager in the 1980s and thus devoted to that decade, has recently died. In his will, he leaves his massive fortune to the first person who can find an Easter egg that he’s hidden in his most popular game.

If you either can’t remember or didn’t care for the 80s, you might still enjoy this book as a complicated logic puzzle of an adventure story, despite the fact that you don’t understand the Atari and Heathers references. But if you love the 80s, if you think John Hughes could do no wrong except for that one time when he clearly should have had Andie choose Duckie, if you immediately get the “cats and dogs living together, mass hysteria!” quote in the first chapter, if you still carry a watermelon for Dirty Dancing and you know all the lyrics to Devo’s Whip It, then this book is so very for you.

I'm two chapters in and the main character is watching old Family Ties episodes. It's rad. Enjoy.

I'm doing 90 down Memory Lane.

I enjoy my iPad in many ways. I read books on it. I fall asleep to my Pandora Stations on it. I watch movies on airplanes with it. I even keep Julia occupied by letting her snap virtual bubble wrap on it. But all of that is nothing compared to my new obsession:


Cousins! It is just like the arcade game Pap had in the Rec Room for us! It plays the songs, the pretzels are worth 700 points, it dings at 10,000 when you get your bonus life, the ghosts stay really long when you get to the first Chase board. It is amazing.

I don't want to do anything or go anywhere. I just want to sit hunched over my coffee table and play like we used to when we had all-night tournaments.

Wow. I am old. And I love it.

Today (well, technically yesterday) I came home from work exhausted, so I took a 5 hour nap. Now it's two in the morning and I am watching an infomercial for the Time Life Easy 80s CD collection. And can I tell you? It is awesome. I have been watching for 20 minutes and I have yet to hear a song that isn't already on my iPod.

Foreigner, REO Speedwagon, Kool and the Gang. Ooh, there's Jack Wagner singing "All I Need," and now we've got Lionel Ritchey in the world's sparkliest jacket singing "Hello." I am having the best time!

Like, totally radical, dude.

So, Alexa was in her very first UPJ production last night, along with some of Melis' former drama students (with whom Lex is now friends--worlds were colliding). The show is The Wedding Singer and Melis and I and our friend Eric went for opening night last night. We had so much fun looking at the clothes and make-up and telling Eric all about how he was too young to appreciate all of this awesomeness. He disagreed thusly:

Eric: I can appreciate all of this!
Ali: Really? You can appreciate Justin's Flock of Seagulls hair?
Eric: I... don't know what that means.

Exactly.

In the Act I closer, Lex wore an outfit, every single component of which I both owned and wore in the 80s. Leggings (check), legwarmers (check, in every color of the Crayola spectrum because you had to match your leotard), headband (check, also in every color you can imagine, and with sparkly gold thread woven through them because the 80s were all about sparkle), and a sweatshirt with the collar cut out to mimic Jennifer Beals' iconic ensemble in the 80s masterpiece Flashdance.

Can your hear Irene Cara singing in you head right now? Isn't it wonderful?

There were also parachute pants (had 'em in black and pink, each with their own drawstring storage bag), ginormous plastic earrings in magenta and teal (oh, you'd have wept at our earring collection circa 1985), and a sequined bustier (didn't have one--would have loved one.) There was also a wonderfully clever and subtle New Edition reference that had Melis and I howling and then feeling sorry for everyone else in the audience who didn't get it. (Jen, look for it tonight!)

And then at the end of the night Justin ran past us in the parking lot and I declared, "And he ran. He ran so far away."

Melis totally got it, but we had to explain it to Eric.

Get thee to Google! Posthaste!

Calling all cousins who have fond memories of all-night Pac-Man tournaments in the Rec Room! Hearken to my voice!

So, you know how Google changes its logo to coincide to various famous events? Today's logo celebrates the thirtieth birthday of Pac-Man. It looks like a Pac-Man board with barriers in the shape of the Google letters.

But! It gets so much cooler. Click on the logo and you can play a game of Pac-Man on the board. You can use your mouse or your arrow keys to guide Pac-Man. Fabulous!

I've been waiting for a musical like you to come into my life.

Well, I'm in NYC and it's business as usual, meaning: Broadway! Tonight I won the Rock of Ages lottery and we had so much fun at the show. They even gave us little flashlights shaped like lighters so we could wave them during the ballads. Two and a half hours of eighties music, I'm still picking confetti out of my hair, and I can't remember the last time I had so much fun at the theater.

I'm trying to understand how Billy Elliot beat this show out for the Best Musical Tony, but I'm seeing that one on Thursday so maybe I'll figure it out then.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go listen to some Foreigner with a Survivor chaser.

Two quick things

1. I will be drafting first in this year's cousin fantasy league. (Aaand we just lost Linda and Becky.) I drafted dead last last year so I will still be picking two in a row, but I'm feeling the pressure of making the first choice good enough to last me until choice #20. And I think my sweet, darling Drew and I will have to part ways this year.

2. More casting decisions have been made for the Red Dawn remake and changes to the characters are being announced. Between this and John Hughes' untimely death, the 80s are taking a serious beating. It's making me so upset that I'm going to have to cut myself off from any further remake news. I'll just give you this tidbit so you can be as aghast as I am: They're making Erica into the head cheerleader/Matt's girlfriend, and Matt is going to risk everything to free her from an internment camp. Also, Daryl is being played by Tom Cruise's son. There. Go forth and be mortified.

So, what has been going on with me?

A quick rundown of the life of Ali:




It’s Thunder In the Valley – the weekend where 20,000 bikers come to J-town and I hide inside my apartment. Don’t get me wrong, I think the festival is great for our fair city—I just don’t like the noise. Also, and this is the real reason I avoid the downtown area during this time, I have this awful horror-fantasy that I will be walking down Market and, in my clumsiness, accidentally bump into one of the bikes parked along the street. Said bike will then tip over and create a domino effect taking down the entire row of bikes parked next to it a la that scene in Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure. And I think we all know I cannot dance on a bar to Tequila in platform shoes to save my life.

I have a sinus infection. A big one. I am miserable and ill and have been spending my evenings sleeping. It is my fault. I have been lazy about using my neti pot and now I’m reaping the whirlwind.

Michael Jackson is dead. I only found out this morning because I went to bed at 5:45 last night (see above.) My clock radio woke me with “Rock With You” and then nine minutes later it woke me again with “Thriller.” That’s when I knew something was up. Confession: when I was 8 years old I had a crush on him. I had a little red purse with his picture on the front. I had plans to marry him. (Little did I know, when I was 8 years old, he might have been interested. Ack.) And I apologize for none of this. In 1985 he was the coolest thing ever. Go back and listen to the Thriller album. It’s like a greatest hits album. The music is so good. And the videos—no one had ever seen dancing like that before. It was years before the full-on freak tendencies started to appear, before he became unrecognizable. I guess I don’t know what to think because the Michael Jackson that I thought was the coolest, the one that’s burned on my 8 year-old brain, has been dead and gone for a long time now.

I am considering buying an iPod touch. Anybody got one? Love it? Hate it? The pathetic 32 gig capacity gives me pause. My 60 gig is bursting at the seams. Maybe I should just upgrade to a 120 gig so I can stop being jealous of Jen’s. James, I know you have an opinion here.

Can’t wait to see most of you guys next week. Remember when someone would walk in the house and say, “The Paynes are here” or “The Gibsons are here” and everyone would scream and run out on the street to start hugging them before they could pull their bags out of the trunk? Why did we ever stop doing that?

I'm getting the urge to use hairspray and legwarmers.

I am currently working on the new cousin CD and it is just making me realize all over again what a musical treasure the decade of the 1980s was. Pure, unadulterated genius. With synthesizers. And they weren't afraid of the saxophone, is what I'm saying. Love! I'm listening to Josh's choice over and over again right now. What song is that, you ask? Find out in July, my ducks.

Oh, and some of you slackers still owe me liner notes. I'm not going to name any names --Brian and Nicole-- but you know who you are.

P.S. James, my desktop is back. I don't know how I did it, but I think I might be some sort of computer wizard.

I've been Rickrolled!

Fear me!

So, Josh recently Punk’d me. Do the kids still say that? I wouldn’t know because I’m old enough to remember Rick Astley videos, which brings me full circle back to Josh’s little practical joke. He emailed me with a link to a supposed Nastase Reunion video he’d uploaded to You Tube. Like a fool, I followed it and was greeted by the sights and sounds of the whitest white man in Whitonia attempting to get down. Gah! Apparently the phenomenon is called Rickrolling and this puts me in company with the Scientologists. Well played, Mehall. Well played.

Ah, Never Gonna Give You Up. Has anyone ever noticed how repetitive that song is? There are like two lines, and Rick just repeats them over and over while performing his “stylish” “dance moves” for us. I was horrified, yet transfixed. I found I could not take my eyes from the screen. The hair. The clothes. The embarrassing hip wiggling from our carrot-topped leading man. I sat entranced, unable to look away, and this gave me a chance to analyze the video.

What is going on here? We’re at the country club, then we’re down at the docks? What was Rick doing down there, at night, in his dapper white trench coat? And then there’s the outdoor chain link fence scenes. I especially enjoy the all-denim outfit. I think he’s wearing Mom Jeans. And they’re doing nothing to hide his unfortunate lady-hips.

Who are these blonde women dancing behind Rick? The objects of his affection? Have their hearts been aching, but they’re too shy to say it? Inside do they both know what’s been going on? Do they know the game and they’re gonna play it? And more importantly, why are they dressed like extras from the Thunder Road drag racing scene in Grease?

Apparently all of this is terribly inspiring to the bartender, who has no choice but to leap across the bar and perform some actual dancing, Fosse style. I think there may have been jazz hands. And I don’t know what the deal is with this blonde guy who shows up at the end of the video. Is he competing with Rick for the affections of one of the girls? Is he after the affections of Rick himself? What is he doing there and why is he only just showing up for the final verse? To dance. Down by the docks. At night.

In the end, I was left with more questions than answers. Which brings us back to Scientology. See how it all comes full circle?