Robin Williams: Coming of age as an actor

As the world continues to mourn the death of Robin Williams, and everyone gets a chance to look at his contribution to entertainment over the past five decades, it was in the 1980s that he came of age as an actor. As the decade opened, he was starring in his own situation comedy, and about to portray a popular cartoon character. As the 1980s ended, he had one Oscar nomination under his belt and was about to earn another. It set the stage for a career that would see two more nominations and a win in the late 1990s.

Mork calling Hollywood

Robin Williams as Popeye with
Shelly Duvall as Olive Oyl.

Robin Williams first came to prominence as the alien Mork from Ork, first in a guest spot on “Happy Days” then in his own series “Mork and Mindy” starring opposite Pam Dawber. It follows the journey of Mork, an alien who crash lands outside Boulder, Colorado, and is soon adopted by Mindy. What follows is the first vehicle for Williams to bring his stand-up comedy routine to the world. Each episode ended with Mork contacting his boss on Ork to report what he has learned. Each week he closes his eyes and chants, “Mork calling Orson.” As 1980 began, “Mork and Mindy” was in the middle of its second of what would be a four-season run.

Things would change for Williams by the end of 1980. In December, Williams made his big screen debut as “Popeye” in a live action rendition of the popular comic. I had read about “Popeye” in one of the magazines you got free at the theatre. It looked surreal, seeing cartoon characters Popeye, Olive Oyl, Bluto, Wimpy and the others in real life, and seeing Williams as a blonde. In the movie poster, Popeye was holding a can of spinach, but it was just a tin can, not the impressive tin Popeye squeezed open to get his source of strength.

The movie had a decent box office, but some critics labeled it a bomb. Personally, I think it was doomed from the outset, because the audience likely saw the cartoon, and it could never translate properly into live action, not with the technology of the time. Not to meet the expectations of movie goers anyway. I actually did not see it until it came out on TV, so it had been cut up by commercials and station breaks, diluting it even more.

Robin Williams as T.S. Garp in
"The World According to Garp".

Williams’ career changed forever in 1982. In May, the final episode of “Mork and Mindy” aired, ending that chapter of his career. Two months later, “The World According to Garp”, his second film, premiered. It was another adaptation, this time of the best-selling John Irving novel of the same name, about writer T.S. Garp and the relationship he has with his mother.

The movie was generally well received, and garnered Oscar nominations for Glenn Close for best supporting actress, as Garp’s mother, and John Lithgow for best supporting actor, as a transsexual ex-football player. Again, I saw it on Channel 13 of peasant vision and, to be honest, I was too young to understand it. I should watch it now, because I have read a biography of John Irving and, from what I have read about Garp, it seems Irving includes some of his own life experiences, such as wrestling and writing, in the story.

More movies, little success

Three more movies followed in the next four years for Robin Williams, as he continued to find his legs as an actor, especially the star of a major motion picture.

Robin Williams co-starring with
Walter Matthau in "The Survivors"

Next up was “The Survivors” in 1983, the tale of two men who get caught up with a hit man and take refuge in a camp of survivalists. He co-stars with Walter Matthau.

It was not well received and not that good, although it showed signs of Williams’ comic improvisation skills. I watched it the summer of 1984 in Brooks, at my cousin Fred’s friend’s place. My outstanding memory was a scene where Matthau approaches the camp, and is greeted by Williams, who is decked out in a winter parka with a fur-lined hood.

“I feel like King Kong’s gynaecologist,” he says. That’s something only Williams could come up with. Unfortunately there was not enough of that to save the movie.

By then, ads had already come out advertising another Robin Williams’ movie, this one called “Moscow on the Hudson”. By this time, I really only wanted to see the movie because I was a completist – I wanted to see all Robin Williams’ movies. Oddly, I never have seen this one, which focuses on Williams as a Russian musician who defects. It was a moderate success, fairing better than “The Survivors”.

When 1986 dawned, there would be three more movies featuring Robin Williams..

The “Best of Times” has Williams’ character obsessing over a game-winning pass he dropped in high school, so much so he recreates the game 20 years later. Kurt Russell is his co-star as the one-time high school quarterback. The film was made by Ron Shelton who would go on to much bigger sports movie success with “Bull Durham” and “Tin Cup”. “The Best of Times” was another moderate success, but I never saw this one either, except in bits and pieces on pay TV in res when I went off to university.

“Club Paradise” revolves around a firefighter who helps the owner of a beach resort save and re-model his operation. This movie features several SCTV comedians including Andrea Martin, Rick Moranis, Eugene Levy, and Joe Flaherty, but none of them could seem to save it. On first glance, it looks as if this movie did not even break even.

In “Seize the Day”, Williams plays a salesman who has lost his job and his girlfriend, and tries to pick up the pieces. I had never heard of this movie before I just saw it on Internet Movie DataBase, and discovered on Wikipedia it is based on a Saul Bellow novel of the same name. This movie may be forgettable, but keep that title in mind.

Robin Williams as radio announcer Adrian
Cronauer in "Good Morning, Vietnam".

So, by the end of 1986, it seemed to be quantity over quality for Robin Williams, as he had made seven movies in the 1980s, and none had blown audiences away. Things did not look that promising for Robin Williams the screen actor.

Break out

That all changed when he accepted the role of Adrian Cronauer in “Good Morning, Vietnam”. Williams plays a radio deejay for the Armed Forces Radio Service during the Vietnam War. The movie went on to gross more than $120 million, earning Williams a Golden Globe win and an Oscar nomination for best actor in a leading role.

It came out during my first year of university, and a buddy from my hometown raved about it when he came up for orientation in February. One of my floormates in res used to rent a VCR and watch movies in his room, usually Friday or Saturday nights. The first one I watched in there was “Good Morning, Vietnam”. Unfortunately, the movie is kind of dark visually, so it was hard to follow in a pitch black room. Sadly, I have not seen it since.

Robin Williams as English instructor
John Keating in "Dead Poets Society".

Closing out with another hit

After bit parts in two movies the following year, Williams hit another home run with “Dead Poets Society” in 1989. He plays an unorthodox English teacher in a conservative private boys’ school who encourages his students to “seize the day” (remember 1986). His performance is as understated, calm, and reserved as it was bombastic and energetic in “Good Morning, Vietnam”.

The movie has many outstanding moments, but none more so than the final scene. After being fired for his methods and their effect on students, the boys show one final sign of support and approval during his last appearance in the classroom. It still gives me goose bumps, “Oh captain, my captain”.

This movie I saw as a sneak preview in the summer of 1989 with my good friend KJ who was visiting in Edmonton for the night. I would see it again in the fall in the Meyer Horowitz Theatre in the Students’ Union Building on the campus of the University of Alberta, with all my new floormates, sitting beside my good friend Bruce.

“Dead Poets Society” went to become one of the iconic movies of the decade, grossing more than $235 million, earning an Oscar for best original screenplay, and a second nomination for Williams for best actor in a leading role. It remains one of my favourite movies and that final scene one of my favourite movie moments – ever.

The years after

Robin Williams as Sean Maguire
in "Good Will Hunting".

Robin Williams would continue with a string of amazing performances starting with “Awakenings” in 1990. That was followed in 1991 by “The Fisher King” where he played opposite Jeff Bridges and garnered his third Oscar nomination for best actor in a leading role. “Hook” followed in 1991, then “Aladdin” in 1992, “Mrs. Doubtfire” in 1993, “Jumanji” in 1995, and “The Birdcage” in 1996. He finally won an Oscar for best supporting actor in 1997 for “Good Will Hunting”, another of my all-time favourite movies. The wait for the Oscar was worth it, because Robin Williams was absolutely amazing as psychologist Sean Maguire.

Parting thoughts

It is rare that a comedian can make the transition to drama. By the end of the 1980s, Robin Williams had not only bridged that divide, he set the stage to meld the two together.

Robin Williams had always been a hyper-kinetic, free-associating comedian. However, it was not until the late 1980s that everyone began to take him seriously as an actor. The role of Adrian Cronauer was a bridge from that hyperactive comic to the roles of John Keating, and ultimately Sean Maguire, the role that won him an Oscar close to a decade later. He did pay his dues though, in a lot of movies of varying quality and success to do that.

It was well worth it, and there was nothing more enjoyable than watching the evolution of an actor. I am only sad we won’t see what the next evolution will be, or the one after that, because he certainly was an artist who did not rest on his laurels. God bless you Robin Williams and rest in peace.

So long Jim Rockford

A classic Jim Rockford pose – saying so much by saying nothing.

He taught me everything I ever wanted to know about being a private eye. With those checkered suit jackets, that answering machine as big as his desk, that trailer on the beach, and the gun in the cookie jar, Jim Rockford had his share of quirks. Yet, he always did the right thing for the right reasons, with a wise crack and a wink at the camera along the way.

There was only one Jim Rockford and sadly, the man who played him just passed away. Although James Garner may be gone, he left his mark on generations of TV viewers. Every time that signature theme came on, it was obvious Jim Rockford was on the case.

Dawn of a decade, end of the line

“The Rockford Files” chronicled the exploits of Jim Rockford, a private investigator who had been in prison, accused of a crime he did not commit, until he was pardoned by the governor of California. He lived in a trailer on the beach and handled cases no one else would. Not married, but never afraid to date, his best friend was his father, Rocky, who always worried about “Jimmy” but was not afraid to get involved in a case if his son needed him. Rockford’s other friends, if you could call them that, were Dennis Becker, the police detective he always got in the way of and needled for information, and Angel Martin, Jim’s cellmate in prison and a bonified con man. These were the ingredients that made a show that lasted six seasons.

It debuted as a 90-minute movie, “Backlash of the Hunter” in March of 1974, and started as a weekly series on Sept. 13, 1974. “The Rockford Files” achieved its greatest success in 1978, when it won the primetime Emmy for most outstanding drama series, a year after Garner had won an Emmy as most outstanding lead actor in a drama series. The show won three more acting Emmys: Rita Moreno won in 1978 for outstanding lead actress for a single appearance in a drama or comedy series for her role as Rita Capkovic a one-time call girl; and Stuart Margolin won the outstanding supporting actor in a drama series in 1979 and 1980, for his role as Angel Martin.

By the time the 1980s dawned, Rockford was wrapping up. It was in its sixth season, and had gone on hiatus. Garner had developed problems with his knees and back, primarily from doing his own stunts. Initially, it had been reported he walked away from the series in 1980, causing its cancellation, but later it was revealed these health issues were the reason. Still, he would get embroiled in a legal suit over “The Rockford Files” that lasted more than a decade.

The last first-run, original episode of “The Rockford Files” aired on Jan. 10, 1980, just as the decade was beginning.

Reruns, a sign from God, and closure

I can barely remember watching “The Rockford Files” on Friday nights when it originally aired. I came to know the show better in reruns. In the mid-1980s, during the summers, my cousin Fred was visiting us for a few weeks, and CBC aired Rockford after midnight. We continued watching when I returned the favour, visiting Brooks for a couple weeks.

That’s when I got to know the show, and had a chance to see one of my favourie episodes. It was a two-parter called “Never Send a Boy King to do a Man’s Job”. Dennis Dugan guest stars as Rockford’s old friend Richie Brockelman, a college-educated private eye. Richie’s dad owns a printing shop, and is blackmailed and intimidated into selling it for way less than it is worth to a crook named Harold Jack Coombs. Richie wants to get the money his dad is owed by conning Coombs, so he approaches Rockford. In classic Rockford fashion, he declines initially, because it’s way too dangerous, but his conscience gets the better of him. He has to help Richie’s dad. It doesn’t help that Rocky encourages him too.

What unfolds is an elaborate sting where Rockford plays the role of southern scoundrel Jimmy Joe Meeker. It is a homage to “The Sting”, which is one of my favourite movies of all time, with Rockford taking on the same role as the Paul Newman character Henry Gondorff.

“The Rockford Files” was back on A&E in the 1990s. I recall watching it Christmas time of 1992, when I was on a trip home with my old friend Chris Vining. That got me interested for the rest of the year, at university in res. My parents had moved to the city by then, but their cable package of the day did not include A&E, so that summer I went without. Then, I was in Edmonton for a wedding, contemplating what to do with my life, and I got a sign from God. My roommate was at work, and I was dozing on the couch with A&E on in the background. Suddenly, I heard the signature Rockford theme music. The episode was, “Never Send a Boy King to do a Man’s Job”! Jim Rockford was telling me to stay in Edmonton – which I did, and I ended up having a great time.

“The Rockford Files” re-surfaced again on WGN when I was in Claresholm, but it was a channel that was really fuzzy in the day, and pretty clear at night. I only mention it because that was when I saw another of my favourite episodes, “The Trees, The Bees, and T.T. Flowers”. It was a two-parter, but I never saw part two when it first aired except for the last minute. It revolved around T.T. Flowers, an eccentric old man and friend of Rocky’s played by Strother Martin. Part one ends with Rockford helping Flowers escape from the hospital. The final scene of part two has Flowers throwing rocks at someone. I wanted to fill in the hour of episode that I missed, and I did, 30 years later.

Dennis Becker (Joe Santos), Jim Rockford
(James Garner), and Angel Martin
(Stuart Margolin) in the 1990s.

Rockford returns

In 1994 I had taken a job where I was not around too much TV. However, I read the Edmonton Journal religiously and discovered the impossible: Jim Rockford was returning to primetime television. It would be a TV movie on Sunday night, entitled “The Rockford Files: I Still Love L.A.”

One of my friends and co-workers actually had cable TV in her room, and opened her home to me. If memory serves, I actually traded shifts strictly so I could watch the movie. I also got a blank video tape and recorded it for posterity.

It was the first time in more than 14 years we saw Jim Rockford, and a lot had happened. Sadly Rocky had passed away, but Rockford still lived in the trailer on the beach, although his answering machine was much smaller now. The show opens with Rockford phoned by Kit, a lawyer, played by Joanna Cassidy, to help her with a case involving two of her clients, a brother and sister, involved in a murder. She invites him to breakfast to discuss the case. As he delves deeper into it, something does not sit right. He asks more questions, upsetting Kit. She finally lashes out, saying she should never have called him and the meeting was over. He responds by saying she did offer him breakfast. She throws the menu at him, tells him to order, then drops the bomb – exclaiming why she ever married him. He slowly sinks behind the menu as the scene fades to the first commercial break.

“I Still Love L.A.” won its time slot and was the number four most watched show of the week. Seven more “Rockford Files” TV movies would follow, the last guest starring Hal Linden and airing in 1998.

Parting thoughts

I read a story about a poll TV Guide did around the time “I Still Love LA” aired on CBS. Jim Rockford was voted the favourite TV private eye of all time (Thomas Magnum was number six). It showed the staying power Rockford had.

What made him so engaging for me was that he was not a glamorous or idealistic private eye. Instead, he was just a regular guy who reacted to situations the way many of us would. That meant demanding to get paid, something never mentioned in other shows, and quitting if he wasn’t. He got beat up, lied to, ran away from impossible situations, and sometimes did things that were unethical. But, in the end, he always did what was right, often to his own detriment, taking cases no one else would.

Jim Rockford, deep in thought.

He never carried a gun, preferring to talk his way out of situations. In fact, that was part of that Rockford charm. He always had a wise crack, and could say so much without saying a word. His facial expressions were priceless and conveyed so much meaning, especially when Angel was vexing him.

Beyond all that, family was extremely important to Jim Rockford. The bond he had with his father was obvious, and it was one of the most endearing parts of the show. Rocky would alternate between putting up with his son’s antics and condemning them, but in the end he was always there for Jim. They laughed as much as anything, and that was another hallmark of the show – it never took itself too seriously.

We don’t really have that many private investigators on television right now. The only one I can think of is “The Republic of Doyle” on CBC. I’m not sure if it’s a coincidence, but it was inspired by “The Rockford Files”.

So thank you James Garner for bringing us Jim Rockford. I don’t think we’ll ever see someone in our living rooms quite like him. Rest in peace, both of you.

Before “Blue Bloods” there was “Our Family Honor”

The cast of "Our Family Honor". Standing from left are Tom Mason;
Kenneth McMillan; Eli Wallach; and Michael Madsen; while kneeling
in front from left are Daphne Ashbrook and Michael Woods.

Long before we met the Reagan family, three generations of New York City police, there was the McKay family. They too had a police commissioner, hot-headed detective, and rookie beat cop, and they too dealt with the mysterious murder of one of their own. The big difference was the McKays were locked in a perpetual struggle with the Danzigs, one of the city’s top crime families, and there was a little bit of “Romeo and Juliet” thrown in. Before “Blue Bloods” there was “Our Family Honor”.

Family Feud

The show revolves around the feud between the McKays and the Danzigs.

The McKays are led by patriarch Patrick McKay (played by Kenneth McMillan), who is made police commissioner in the pilot. His son Frank McKay (played by Tom Mason) is a hot-headed, single-minded detective, and his granddaughter Liz McKay (played by Daphne Ashbrook) is a rookie beat cop.

The Danzigs are an organized crime family, led by Vincent Danzig (played by Eli Wallach) who is like the godfather. His son Augie (played by Michael Madsen) is Frank’s exact opposite, his father’s right-hand and as crooked as the day is long. His other son goes by the name Jerry Cole (played by Michael Woods) because he wants to distance himself as much as possible from his family.

What fuels the feud is the belief, by the McKays, that the Danzigs murdered Patrick McKay Jr, Patricks’s son, Frank’s brother, and Liz’s dad. That’s why Jerry changes his name – he’s dating Liz, and she has no idea who he really is. Romeo, meet Juliet.

The McKays, and especially Frank, are obsessed with proving the Danzigs are Patrick Jr.’s killer.

Spaghetti gets in the way

My outstanding memory of “Our Family Honor” has nothing much to do with the show really. Early every fall, I anxiously awaited the fall preview issue of “TV Guide”. My mom bought it when they went to Lethbridge for groceries every Thursday. It devoted a page to each new fall show from the three U.S. networks of the time (before FOX came along), as well as CBC and CTV.

In the fall of 1985 I was starting Grade 11. I read the article on “Our Family Honor” and it seemed pretty interesting. It was set to air on CTV, on peasant vision, at 10 p.m. on I think it was Wednesday nights. Finally, it was set to air, and I was excited. Then something else came along.

There was this girl in my accounting class I had developed a crush on. She had actually phoned me the previous weekend because her cheerleading squad was having a fundraising spaghetti supper and wanted to know if I was interested in buying a ticket to go. Although I knew what it was, deep down I had this glimmer of hope she actually liked me, so I was in.

Unfortunately, the supper, which ended up being an amazing time, was the same night as the premiere of “Our Family Honor”. By the time I got home, it was well after 10 p.m., my parents were in bed, and I had to watch it on the little TV in my bedroom.

I do recall turning it on just as Frank was telling Liz he was convinced the Danzigs killed her dad. He was pretty agitated too.

After that, life got busy, and I never really watched more than one or two full episodes again – partly because the show did not last that long, and I could never find when it was on.

Parting thoughts

The death of Eli Wallach back in June reminded me of “Our Family Honor”. Like “The Yellow Rose”, which I eulogized elsewhere, “Our Family Honor” had a great premise and a great cast, but it just never found an audience. It debuted on Sept. 17, 1985 and its last episode aired a few short months later on Jan. 3, 1986, lasting a total of 13 episodes.

But, as happens, sometimes the idea is not bad. Instead it may fall victim to timing or execution.

The McKays have been reincarnated as the Reagans on “Blue Bloods”. Patrick McKay looked more like a police commissioner than Frank Reagan (Tom Selleck) – older, greyer, less sexy and more managerial. His son Frank McKay is just as hot-headed and single-minded as Danny Reagan (Donnie Walberg), and he’s on the same quest: to avenge the murder of his brother. Instead of a granddaughter like Liz McKay, “Blue Bloods” has much younger brother Jamie Reagan (played by Will Estes) as the rookie beat cop.

It just shows, every idea has its day.

The other thing this symbolizes is another change in my life. Up to that point, TV had been pretty much at the centre of life outside school. That night, going to that spaghetti supper, illustrated how my world was getting bigger – beyond watching TV and living alone out in the country. I was discovering girls, and beginning the chaotic drift into adolescence.

Die Hard: One last summer at home

The movie poster for the classic 1988 action movie "Die Hard".

The recent death of James Shigeta, who played Joseph Takagi, a doomed businessman in the first “Die Hard” movie way back in the summer of 1988, reminded me of a pivotal summer in my life. There was something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue.

Something old

I had gone off to university in the fall of 1987 full of trepidation. I needn’t have worried, because I had one of the greatest years of my life. It still ranks near the top. Then, in the flash of a trip in a Pinto from Edmonton, it was over. I was back on the same old farm, working the same old job at the greenhouse. Awaiting me in the fall at university was a new job I was really excited about, so the days went by so slowly. Worse yet, my best friend Chris Vining had gone up north for the summer to work and stay with his dad, so I didn’t have my homey to hang out with.

Something new

There were several new things that ultimately made the time pass, and eventually just a little bit sad to leave, when I finally did.

In the eight months I was away, Lethbridge had undergone some significant changes, especially downtown. Mall space had almost doubled, with the opening of the Park Place Mall and the addition of a second floor to the Lethbridge Centre, or Woodward’s Mall, as we called it. Beyond all the new stores, which did not excite me that much, was the addition of more movie theatres.

Up to that point, Lethbridge was served by a total of six screens: the Paramount Theatre downtown had two; the Lethbridge Centre Theatre, also downtown had two; and College Mall, had two called “College Cinema 2”. And, I believe, they were all owned by the same person. In any event, they were all Famous Players theatres. And there was the Green Acres Drive-In, but that was not an option a) in the winter; and b) without a car.

The new mall had six screens, and was a Cineplex-Odeon, meaning way more movie selection. It opened not too long before I got home from university, and would become a frequent destination over the next four months. I would see “Cocktail”, “Sunset”, and others.

I also renewed a friendship I had made the previous summer with a buddy named BJ, or Bill. He was the younger brother of my neighbour and lifelong friend. We hung out a fair bit, taking in a bunch of movies. We also listened to a lot of music together.

Something borrowed

Near the end of that summer, I bought a tape I had wanted for a long time: Richard Marx’s debut, self-titled album. Me and Bill used to joke about one of the Richard Marx songs, “Don’t Mean Nothing” so he chuckled when I told him I bought it.

At the same time, we were getting into Honeymoon Suite’s latest single, “Love Changes Everything”. We both loved their last album, “The Big Prize”, and BJ’s brother actually had also bought their self-titled debut album through Columbia House. Needless to say, BJ bought “Racing After Midnight”, the aforementioned latest album from those rockers from Niagara Falls.

So, we decided to swap tapes. In essence we were borrowing from each other. Sadly, I left for university before we could trade back, and I still have “Racing After Midnight” sitting in my closet. I’m sure Richard Marx is living in a landfill, somewhere or, at best, at the bottom of a closet or a box in someone’s basement.

Something blue

The funny thing was, that I got into a pretty good routine as the summer went on. I really had a good time with Bill. He was still in high school, going into Grade 12, so I still had contact with that scene. Plus he was a bit of a chick magnet, so girls were around more than I had ever experienced (which had been never, to be honest). So, when I finally did get to leave, I was a bit blue. I was saying goodbye to a buddy.

The funny thing is, I have never seen him since, in the almost 26 years that have passed.

"Die Hard"

Amid all this, the movie “Die Hard” came to town. I was curious to see it because it starred Bruce Willis who, up until then had been starring in “Moonlighting” opposite Cybill Shepard. I really had not seen much advertising on the movie but, because Willis’ role in “Moonlighting” was so goofy, I was really curious to see him in something else. Plus, Bill wanted to go, we had either seen everything else or didn’t want to, and movies were dirt cheap to go to. Whatever the reason, we were not disappointed.

“Die Hard” is set during the Christmas season, making the summer release a bit odd. John McClane (Willis) is a policeman estranged from his wife, looking to meet up with his children. Through some misfortune, he ends up trapped inside a skyscraper, the Nakatomi Plaza, just as some crooks are trying to rob it, under the guise of a terrorist attack. What ensues is a man-against-the-odds battle. McClane uses his skills and instincts as a police officer to slowly whittle down his enemy, find out what their ultimate goal is, and stop them – while trying to survive.

The pacing of the movie is perfect, and Willis shows that he was more than David Addison, his wisecracking, laid back character on “Moonlighting”. Oh, he’s still cracking wise, but he is much more wound up, high strung, and intense.

And he provides some of the best one-liners of the year. The best of course was, “Yippy kiyay mother fu--er”, along with, “I have a gun too”, and “That’s Helsinki, Sweden.” “Die Hard” ended up providing me and Bill the slang and inside jokes we used for the rest of the summer (“Batman” did the same thing for me and my friend Sean the following summer).

“Die Hard” would go on to spawn a bunch of sequels over the next 25 years. I only saw one, and it was pretty good too, two summers later, but nothing beats the original, which is still one of my favourite action movies of all time.

Parting thoughts

It’s funny that I have been using this wedding metaphor, because it was often described in the succeeding three years I was married to my job and life in res.

The summer of 1988 really did have something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue. It was the end of my old life on the farm. When I left, I never lived there again. I spent the next three school years and two intervening summers in res. Amid that, my parents sold their farm. It was also the time to find a new friend, visit a new theatre, and see new movies. There was something borrowed, that Honeymoon Suite tape. I still see it every so often, and it reminds me of Bill and the summer of ’88. And there was something blue, my farewell to a friend and ultimately, although I did not know it at the time, a way of life.

I will always associate “Die Hard” with that period, and it always brings back memories. It’s unfortunate that it took the death of James Shigeta to remind me again.

Watching the Stamps and Lions with mom

Calgary quarterback Joe Barnes turned in an
amazing performance, passing for 495 yards and
three touchdowns as the underdog Stampeders
shocked the B.C. Lions on August 17, 1985
for Calgary's first win of the season. They
would only win two more games, while
B.C. would win the Grey Cup

Last week, I was home visiting my parents, and was reminded of something that happened almost 30 years ago. It was Friday night, August 1, and the Calgary Stampeders were hosting the B.C. Lions.

This year, the Stampeders are a Grey Cup contender at the top of the standings with a young, talented quarterback. The Lions are near the bottom of the standings, struggling to find their offence and pinning their hopes on an aging quarterback who has been one of the best of his generation.

Thirty years ago, on a warm summer night in 1985, it was the Lions who were a Grey Cup contender at the top of the standings with a young talented quarterback, hosting the Stampeders who were at the bottom of the standings, struggling to find the right combination and pinning their hopes on an aging quarterback who was one of the best of his generation.

Sadly, the home team, my beloved Stampeders and their young quarterback Bo Levi Mitchell, gave up an early lead and lost to the visiting Lions in 2014.

It was a different result from 1985, but what made it so familiar was that, both times, I was watching with my mother.

Saturday night football

It was their sixth game of the season. It was a Saturday night, August 17, and they were playing at B.C. Place in Vancouver. It was a late start, 8 p.m. to be exact. The Lions had never lost to Calgary at B.C. Place, and they were one of the best teams in the entire league. The Stampeders were winless on the season, had fired coach Steve Buratto, and replaced him with Bud Riley.

What unfolded was one of the best football games I had ever seen. My mom had come out of the bath and settled on the couch to relax for a few minutes before bed, so she watched with me. I found myself explaining the rules to her, and she caught on quickly. She got deeper into the game as it went on, and the Stampeders were hanging around.

Calgary led 6-3 after the first quarter and 16-11 at halftime.  I was surprised at how well the Stamps were playing. Joe Barnes was finally beginning to play like the quarterback they had acquired. Their defence was holding the Lions offence, and their quarterback Roy Dewalt in check. In particular, I remember pass rusher Vince Goldsmith who always seemed to be in the backfield after Dewalt. They hung tough in the third quarter, leading 30-18 with just 15 minutes to go.

It was only a matter of time before the Lions would get untracked – and they did. I was hoping so hard Calgary could hold on. The Lions mounted a furious comeback with two touchdowns, but Calgary hung on for the 35-32 win.

Joe Barnes passed for 495 yards, including three touchdowns, and kicker J.T. Hay's fourth field goal gave the Stampeders their first win with new coach Bud Riley. Lion quarterback Roy Dewalt, after getting untracked, passed for 491 yards, and Lion receiver Mervyn Fernandez had a league-wide, season-high of 259 yards receiving. The Lion offensive numbers are deceiving because they had to play from behind the entire time and throw virtually every down to get back into the game.

It was the Stamps' first win of the season, and one of very few bright spots that season for the team.

Parting thoughts

It was total role reversal the other night. I have written elsewhere about the troubles the Stampeders of that era were experiencing.

Yet, that game symbolized so many things. It showed that on any given night any team can beat any other team in the CFL, no matter what their records say or what the experts predict. It showed that if a team can just stay close, their confidence will grow and they will begin to believe they can win. Once they have that belief, anything can happen. And, it showed the magic of the CFL. Back in 1985, my mother sat down simply to say goodnight before bed – then got into the game as much as any seasoned fan. Canadian football can be compelling entertainment. That showed again the other night. She came down to chat, then got into the game as much as I did. Sadly, our combined positive energy could not help the Stamps.

It did back in 1985 though, giving me yet another cool memory with my mother.

Ya gotta love the CFL.

That old summer treat: A salute to the slush

Long before the “slushee” was used as an instrument of torture and bullying on “Glee”, there was the simple slush.

There was nothing like it on a hot summer day in Coaldale. It quenched the thirst, cooled the temperature, and always seemed to hit just the right spot. Just don’t drink it too fast because it would freeze your brain.

Most of us call it a Slurpee, but that’s actually the trade-marked 7-11 version of the drink.

Slush machines are everywhere now, but once upon a time back in the 1980s they weren’t prevalent, and there were a few different kinds. Thankfully, the current slush won out, going on to satisfy the thirst of millions over the decades and into the next century.

The "Slush Cat" logo.

One of those "Slush Puppie" cups.

Fighting like dogs and cats: The original slushes

The first slush I ever had was called the “Slush Puppy”. It was soft ice poured into a cup with flavouring squirted on top, kind of like a mushier version of the snow cones we used to have at the fair or the circus. They had “Slush Puppies” at the Club Cigar Store in Lethbridge, where we used to stop to buy magazines (that store still has the best selection in the city) and at the Red Rooster in Coaldale.

Once, I went to visit my cousin Carl in Lethbridge, and we'd walked over to the 7-11 where they had this drink called a "Slurpee".

Then, one day in the summer, my neighbour Mike came over raving about a “Slush Cat” he had at this relatively new store in Coaldale. It was called Mac’s and, sadly, that Mac’s no longer exists in my hometown. So, the next time we went to Coaldale, I got my parents to stop at Mac’s so I could have a slush. It turns out, it was like the slushes I had had at the 7-11 in Lethbridge while visiting my cousin Carl.

The name “Slush Cat” was part of the brand that was Mac’s back in the ‘80s. The colours were like a brown and gold with some red thrown in, and the official logo was a big cat that I think was giving us all a wink. The staff wore these brown smocks with gold trim too.

Beyond that, slush puppies and cats were all behind the counter, poured by store staff members. A far cry from all self-serve, all the time now.

The Boston Bruins' collector's slush cup I sought for months.

Collector’s cups

Not much later, Mac’s introduced a set of collector’s cups. If you ordered a medium slush, you got a cup with a logo from an NHL hockey team. There were 21, but they were all mixed together. The cups sat in stacks on top of the slush machine and you just got the next one they chose. If you could see one you liked, you could ask for it, but the guy would not go digging through the pile to find a particular one.

I was – and still am – a huge Boston Bruins fan, so every time we went to town I convinced my dad to go to Mac’s. He had to buy his smokes somewhere, right? I really wanted that Bruins cup – and I eventually got it. But I am also a collector, and a completionist, so I wanted the rest of the set. Eventually I got that too. Like so many other fads in my life, they would sit in a corer in the house until we moved off the farm in 1991.

The modern slush and beyond

Eventually the “Slush Puppy” faded away, or melted away I guess, and the slush we all know became the norm at every convenience store – Mac’s, Red Rooster, 7-11, or whatever.

It was still a treat, because I rarely got to town more than once or twice a week. I remember one weekend when my brother was visiting with his new wife. They were going to town for a slush, and I jokingly asked if they could bring me back one. I figured it would never survive the ride home. But, sure enough, my sister-in-law was sipping on one, then produced one for me. It not only had survived, but it sure hit the spot on a really hot summer day on the farm.

When I got to junior high, we walked over to the high school once a week for shop class. That meant cruising downtown to get lunch or at the very least a slush. They were always really cheap too. Beyond that, at St. Joe’s we were not allowed to leave the school grounds ever, even at noon hour. When I got to high school, we could go wherever we wanted at noon. Like anything, the novelty wore off, and I rarely went uptown.

One spring, when I signed up to play soccer, our coach Jim Franz took us to Red Rooster after a couple games and treated us all to slushes. It was a nice thing to do for a man who really didn't know many of us personally, and didn't have a son or daughter on the team either.

The slush took on a more sinister tone in high school too, not for me but for many others. They started using it as mix and a cover, dumping vodka or rye into a slush, then walking into high school with it.

By the time I got to university, we had kind of a convenience store in res called the “Mini Mart” then later “The Marina”. It had its own slush machine. They hit the spot every so often, but I had moved on. Not only had the novelty worn off, but something had changed. Slushes, when drunk too fast, gave me a headache. By the summer of 1987, I had progressed to something else: the Coolossal Cooler from Mac’s, and its cousin the “Big Gulp” at 7-11. They were just big cups of pop and ice, but ended up being more refreshing than the heavier, colder slush.

I had moved on.

Parting thoughts

When the 1980s opened, the only really cool drink was pop. Then along came the slush. It was cool, long-lasting, and refreshing. As long as you didn’t drink it too fast and give yourself a headache. As time went on though, it was more than that. It was a social experience.

“You want to go for a slush?” was not just an invitation to get a drink, but to hang out, gossip, and socialize.

It was as much a part of life as going to the movies, playing video games, shooting hoops in the driveway.

I haven’t had one for years, mostly because they are sugar bombs after all, but whenever I do have one, I think about Red Rooster in 1983 or Mac’s in 1987.

I’d go for one right now, just to reminisce, but I gave up pop for one of my new year’s resolutions. But it isn’t really pop…

Remembering Rubik's Cube

The scrambled Rubik's Cube

The solved Rubik's Cube

It was one of the most frustrating things I ever encountered – and I did it for fun – yet it kept me coming back. And it was a belly-button toy – everyone had one. After years of watching others do it, I never could. I still can’t. It’s been 40 years since the Rubik’s Cube came along and it remains one of those things synonymous with the ‘80s.

A new plaything

I first recall seeing it on TV. It was this six-sided cube, and each side had its own colour. What made it so confounding was that each side was made up of nine squares. Each row of three, whether a horizontal or vertical row, would rotate. Only the centre square of the nine on each side would never move. The goal, once it was all mixed up, was to solve the cube by restoring each side to nine squares of the same colour. (It’s harder to explain than to just demonstrate). It sure looked easy, but no matter how many hours I spent working on it in front of the TV, I never could muster it.

A belly-button toy

I was a purist, so I bought an actual brand name “Rubik’s Cube”, this after cheap knock-offs appeared everywhere. That’s how it became a belly-button toy. A few weeks later, after I bought my brand name cube (and in pretty much every other aspect of life I have never much cared for brand names), my mom even bought one for a couple bucks at the SAAN Store in downtown Coaldale. It was a cheap knock-off.

A phenomenon

Once it caught on, the Rubik’s Cube had become a pop culture phenomenon. Pretty soon the cube appeared on various TV shows, whether the news or elsewhere. There was a United States championship and it was featured on the magazine “That’s Incredible”. The champion, a teenager named Minh Thai, later appeared on the show “Real People” as well. He would go on to win the first world championship in Budapest in 1982. I also remember one of the people Minh Thai beat was a fellow named Jeff Varasano. Wikipedia revealed Varasano set the U.S. record later in 1981 for solving the cube.

By any means necessary

Other things also appeared. I saw one piece on TV of some people solving the cube in their own unique way – they took it apart and put it back together in the right order. I was a little reluctant to do that until a junior high classmate, a guy named Tracey, actually did it while I was watching during recess.

Another piece I saw focused on the frustration people felt trying to solve the cube. Consequently, someone invented a flat-faced mallet, with a graphic of a Rubik’s Cube on the face of it, to hit and smash the cube to bits. You could even send them the broken pieces in the mail.

At one point, I even bought one of the many books available at the time that explained how to solve the cube. Yet, as a purist, I never could bring myself to read it, because that felt like cheating to me. I needed to do it on my own.

The solvers

Personally, I knew a few people who could solve the Rubik’s Cube – for real. At the top of the list were two sisters, Mary and Katie, who were our neighbours on the farm. They were the most unlikely of people, because they were older than me, and they never played with toys on the bus or during recess at school. However, the cube was invented in Hungary and that’s where their family happened to be from. If memory serves, they learned how to solve the cube on a family trip to the old country.

Parting thoughts

The Rubik’s Cube is one of the cultural touchstones of the 1980s. At one time, there was even a Saturday morning cartoon called, “Rubik, The Amazing Cube”, although it never aired on peasant vision.

I bet you could ask anyone randomly, and they not only would admit to owning one, but having a story to go with it. For me, it fed my addictive personality. Although I never solved it, I came close, within two squares actually. If I’d had a camera back then, as teenagers do now, I would have taken a picture of that. It symbolized the frustration, as well as the endless possibility that anyone, even I, could solve the cube.

It was a great diversion, and a wonderful toy, especially while I watched endless hours of TV at night on the farm during long, dark winters.

It has had staying power too. There are still world championships and more than 350 million cubes have been sold. As it celebrates its 40^th birthday, there is a giant, inflatable cube floating on a barge in the Hudson River beneath the Statue of Liberty to commemorate the occasion.

Check it out for yourself at:

http://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/americas/giant-rubiks-cube-floating-on-hudson-river-to-mark-40th-anniversary-of-puzzle-9600934.html

So, to an old adversary, friend, and comfort – happy birthday Rubik. Can I call you Rubik, or would you prefer Mr. Cube? After all you are 40 now.