Addendum or Duodenum

It seems I have accidentally put my underpants on inside out... and I like it.

Tales of a Twenty Sixth Grade Nothing

Another YA novel down, another… six (?) to go! This time… Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing and finally I am reintroduced to that oh so cutestrating character from my childhood, Fudge aka Farley Hartcher.

Back in the employ of ‘the man’, my collection of Judy Blume’s have become less like a box of smarties and more like a stale packet of Super Lemons – I still like them, but I’m not compelled to consume them one after the other before another single solitary minute passes. It’s taken me several weeks to get through ‘TOAFGT’ but finally last night the denouement was reached and the book is no longer spreadeagled on the bedside table with current page marked.

I can’t think of a good reason to outline the basic plot of the book, as that is the role of Wikipedia, but here’s what I think of it:

I am challenged by one basic thing with this book: Peter, who is a lovely, well-adjusted nine year old with impeccable manners and a strongly developed sense of right and wrong, was raised by the very same parents as Fudge, an uncontrollable, self obsessed two year old. The same woman who taught Peter to be respectful to adults and nurturing and patient with his brother is now teaching Fudge to be selfish and unpleasant by rewarding his bad behaviour and making him the centre of his own universe. Let’s pretend for a moment that these are real people – would the large age gap between the kids, which is possibly indicative of several years of infertility and/or miscarriage, have changed this woman’s parenting style so considerably? Was Fudge the miracle baby that the adult Hartcher’s tried so hard to have and as such they’re parenting powers are weakened by his very existence? Or perhaps Pee-tah grew into the nice boy he is DESPITE his parents rather than because of them. Or perhaps Peter isn’t really that nice at all and it’s just that I have been suckered in to seeing the world through his eyes by the powerful prose of J Blume.

Some more questions in brief: Would a child really be hospitalised for swallowing an incy wincy turtle/ flowers/ teeth despite demonstrating no sign of distress or symptoms of sickness (a question for an Emergency Department Doctor, if only I knew one)? Would a man/father/husband really have to ask his nine year old son where the peanut butter was kept and if so would he experience no shame about this fact? Is a pet dog a wise replacement for a pet incy wincy turtle, especially in an apartment building? When visiting New York, do important people really opt to stay with the family of their advertising executive rather than in a hotel? Do assistant’s of advertising executives really get to sit in on the filming of commercials that are filmed the same day as they are cast in a ready-made AVAILABLE studio? Would a parent ever say ‘eat it or wear it’ to a naughty two year old and not expect some sort of ramifications down the track?

That is all.

The World's Gone Nostalgia Mad!

The nostalgia started with Judy Blume, but it hasn't ended there. 

Remember DOS?  Remember typing 'c', 'd', 'backslash' and then a folder name? I do.

Life was different back then.  Games took forever to load and you needed to make sure you had a sound card (which you'd slot right into the sound card sized hole in the back of your computer).  When prompted, you'd select 'Super VGA 16 Colour' to describe your monitor's capabilities (and that was pretty hot stuff in the world of graphics cards) then a quick verification of software ownership before *whoosh*  off you were swept into a dazzling world of intricately composed MIDI music and highly nuanced 'open door', 'look wall', 'talk lady' commands.  I cut my teeth on this stuff and I remember details of facial expressions and fashions that today's over-pixelled brain could no longer detect from the 8 bit graphics.

Well, i've gone there.  I am once again the proud owner of Kings Quest 1, The Colonel's Bequest and, perhaps best of all, Leisure Suit Larry in the Land of the Lounge Lizards.  So far, I've completed Leisure Suit Larry, with a spree of meaningless sex and R rated themes, and am half way thought Colonel's Bequest.  I assume I am about halfway... I don't actually know because I never completed the game 'in the day'.  What's amazing is that it all comes flooding back - I find that I have a compulsion to 'sit on the swing', to 'climb into the bin', to 'move the cupboard', but don't really know what the consequences will be... and it's AWESOME.  The above picture is a screen shot from one of my favourite moments of Larry: Larry has just managed to get through a lengthy exchange with an Indian convenience store attendant to secure himself a coloured, smooth, lubricated, striped, spearmint flavcured condom... or 'lubber'.  Oh, how I used to laugh!

And what is the disk space pennance to pay for this dip into gaming nostalgia?  765kb.  For fewer kilobytes than a digital photo, I gained a couple of hours of entertainment and, perhaps more importantly, a pleasant sojourn down memory lane... slash back alley.