Cavemen and Martians and Doughboys, Oh My!

I have as much faith in the newspaper’s daily horoscopes as I do in a Chinese factory worker’s ability to pen prophetic words and stuff them into my fortune cookie. This raises the question…Why aren’t  there more psychic lottery winners?

I do, however, find it interesting that cartoon characters and puppets have birthdays. Not because I think that everyone born on November 2 will share Cookie Monster’s unhealthy relationship with food or that those born on February 22 will suffer from Pebbles Flintstone’s speech impediment. It is simply fun. Unless, of course, you are like me and learn that not a single one of your beloved childhood characters shares your birthday.

Here is a list of assorted talking ducks, dogs, and other creatures and their dates of birth (according to various websites).

January 9-Daisy Duck

January 12-Mater

January 17-Huckleberry Hound

January 13-Rubber Duckie

January 28-Ernie

January 29-Aquaman

February 2-Fred Flintstone

February 3- Elmo

February 8-Beeker

February 12-Gromit (Wallace & Gromit)

February 14-Pink Power Ranger

February 17- Rod Flanders

February 19-Batman

February 22-Pebbles Flintstone

February 25-Patrick Star (Starfish)

February 29-Superman

March 2-Porky Pig

March 3-Lucy Van Pelt

March 4-Woodstock

March 9-Barbie

March 17-Dennis the Menace

March 18-Pillsbury Dough boy

March 20-Big Bird

March 22- Kenny (South Park)

April 1- Bart Simpson

April 17-Daffy Duck & Sherlock Hemlock (Sesame Street)

April 20-Barney Gumble

May 1-Sponge Bob Square Pants

May 9-Kermit the Frog & Lisa Simpson

May 15- Minnie Mouse

May 25-Goofy

May 26-Kyle (South Park)

May 29-Iron Man

June 1-Oscar the Grouch

June 7-The Amazing Mumford

June 9-Donald Duck

June 19-Garfield & Tasmanian Devil

July 1-Guy Smiley & Cartman (South Park)

July 24-Marvin the Martian

July 26-Bert

July 27-Bugs Bunny & Jon Arbuckle (Garfield)

August 7- Wallace (Wallace & Gromit)

August 19-Snuffleupagus

August 21-Christopher Robin

September 5-Clifford the Red Dog & Pluto

September 13-Scooby-Doo

September 15-Mr. Burns

September 19-Slimey

September 30- Snagglepuss

October 1-Marge Simpson

October 2-Snoopy

October 6-Peggy (King of the Hill)

October 9- The Count

October 14-Grover & Winnie the Pooh

October 16-Telly

October 19-Stan Marsh (South Park)

October 25-Squidward

October 28-ALF

October 30- Charlie Brown

November 2-Cookie Monster

November 18-Mickey Mouse

November 21-Quick Draw McGraw

November 30- Mr. Krabs (Sponge Bob)

December 17-Little Bird (Sesame Street)

December 22-Elsa (Disney)

December 27-Howdy Doody

Who do you share a birthday with? Who would you most like to share it with? 

A one-armed Mickey, a duck with skates, and a kid with a hole in his head

My dad worked for one of Canada’s Big 5 banks, and up until I was around five years old, I believed that his bank was, by far, the best.  So, what earth-shattering event took place at such a young age that could destroy a child’s faith in the high world of finance?  I admit that a grade one student whose entire financial experience resided in a tiny copper piggy bank hadn’t likely developed a understanding of banks at all–they were big building that had lots of money in them.  And one of them had a desk  for my dad.  So, okay–I didn’t exactly have a huge emotional attachment to any institution.   The only objects that I truly trusted were my rubber Avon Snoopy soapdish, my talking Bugs Bunny, and a hand-made British bear  that seemed to suffer from an identity crisis–it “mooed” when I turned it upside down.  Don’t ask.

My Snoopy soapdish looked like this.  And I loved him.

My Snoopy soapdish looked like this. And I loved him.

The day that I learned that my “daddy’s work” sucked began with a giant set of Tinker Toys.  Don’t get me wrong.  Tinker Toys are great.  They are, perhaps, the greatest toy ever created.  And these weren’t just ordinary sticks and connecting wheels.  These were GIANT.  The problem with these particular Tinker Toys was that they had the audacity to show up at the home of my arch nemesis.  Yes, I had one of those.

Seriously, what kid wouldn't want to build their own Flintstone car?

Seriously, what kid wouldn’t want to build their own Flintstone car?

He was a short redhead–much like myself.  You would think we would have been great allies.  But he was a natural sniveler who loved to run to his mother every time one of the other neighbourhood boys gave in to the temptation to punch him in the freckle, push him off the monkey bars, or step on his throat.  And, as the lone girl amongst a gaggle of boys, he often pointed his accusatory (and nose-picking) finger in my direction.

Some kids just seem to scream out "step on my throat."

Some kids just seem to scream out “step on my throat.”

And his mother was an equal opportunity yeller.  She had no problems screaming and waving her manicured finger (which I also suspect spent a great deal of time up her nose) at me too.

Monster kid loved to get other kids in trouble–hence the permanent shoe print on his larynx.  His favourite method of torturing me was to jump on my bed as loudly as he could, wait for my mother to come in and tell us to knock it off, and then point his aforementioned snot-digging digit in my direction and say, “she did it.”  My mom was on to his evil ways, and simply rolled her eyes–at least that’s what my 45-year-old self imagines that she did.  It turns out that the big square lightshade over my bed was tired of this kid–and it was determined to do something about him.

Look at it.  All innocent looking.  But what is it really thinking?

Look at it. All innocent looking. But what is it really thinking?

Shortly after, brat boy was leaping his little heart out–as if he actually had one–soaring higher and higher into the air.  He grinned and let out a maniacal laugh, which must have infuriated my lightshade because the next thing I knew, its corner was stuck in the side of my nemesis’ head.  I was horrified.  And impressed that the kid had actually jumped high enough to hit the light in the first place.  But I was mostly horrified.  I imagine that I quickly scooted my stuffed friends off my bed and away from the wounded kid’s blood–and cooties.

It's damn hard to get blood out of fun fur.

It’s damn hard to get blood out of fun fur.

That is also the day that I learned that people could actually be “sewn” back up.  Freaky.

And, from that moment on, I looked at my lightshade with a new-found respect and awe.  On the one hand, I was thankful for its display of allegiance.  But, I was also leery of ever getting on its bad side.

Humans are like "build your own bears."  They CAN be stitched back together.

Humans are like “build your own bears.” They CAN be stitched back together.

But I must get back to the Tinker Toys.  Yes, it did bother me that this whiny little monster had a set, while I had to be satisfied (which I no longer was) with a regular, 5-year-old hand-sized, wooden set of sticks and connecting wheels.  Yes, I could make cars–but I could NOT sit in them.  This disturbed me to no end. 

The biggest problem with these gigantic Tinker Toys was that they were a gift from his father’s employer–another one of Canada’s big 5 banks.  My father, who I thought was the smartest man in the world, had made the horrifying error of working for the wrong bank.  The one that gave out free pencils with their logo on them.  Big whoop.  And not the one that gave out mammoth-sized children’s toys.

Hm.  Maybe I could have had fun with those damn pencils.

Hm. Maybe I could have had fun with those damn pencils.

So, today I have decided to celebrate some of the best toys–giant and regular sized–that played an important role in my childhood.  And to everyone else who is between the ages of…er…forty and fifty, these may bring back a few memories for you too.

Santa and his "elves" endured a very late Christmas Eve due to "some assembly required" and a whole whack of little stickers.

Santa and his “elves” endured a very late Christmas Eve due to “some assembly required” and a whole whack of little stickers.

My very first hi-fi.  I actually played Humble Pie on this baby.

My very first hi-fi. I actually played Humble Pie on this baby.

My Mickey Mouse tracing desk.  I'm sensing a Mickey theme here.

My Mickey Mouse tracing desk. I’m sensing a Mickey theme here.

I can't believe I actually found my favourite puzzle online!

I can’t believe I actually found my favourite puzzle online!

I know that I've always said I hated dolls.  I should say that I hated non-Barbie like dolls.  Charlie's Angels were cool.

I know that I’ve always said I hated dolls. I should say that I hated non-Barbie like dolls. Charlie’s Angels were cool.

Lite Brite rocked.  Clowns, however, are social deviant freaks.

Lite Brite rocked. Clowns, however, are social deviant freaks.

Loved it when the cars when flying off the tracks.

Loved it when the cars went flying off the tracks.

Yup, I tumbled me some rocks.

Yup, I tumbled me some rocks.

I don't think my mini pinball game had astronauts on it--but it was orange.

I don’t think my mini pinball game had astronauts on it–but it was orange.

Loved to watch the Brady Bunch episode where Cindy and Bobby get lost in the Grand Canyon.  Unfortunately, they were found.  Alive.

Loved to watch the Brady Bunch episode where Cindy and Bobby get lost in the Grand Canyon. Unfortunately, they were found. Alive.

What were your favourite childhood toys?  And, did you have an arch enemy?  

Photo credits: Giant Tinker Toy <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/alifeinbalance/6580464709/”>A Life in Balance</a> via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a> <a href=”http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/”>cc</a>, Brat (http://rantersbox.blogspot.ca/2010/07/excuse-me-your-child-is-freaking-little.html),ceiling light (http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/how-to-replace-ugly-rental-cei-46416), bear (http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b008dk4b/profiles/shop-buildabearPencils ( http://www.hiddeninfrance.typepad.com/hidden_in_france/2007/10/tara-donovans-i.html), Barbie bus (http://www.rcgroups.com/forums/attachment.php?attachmentid=5077528), Mickey Mouse record player (http://disneylandrecords.blogspot.ca/2008/07/mickey-mouse-record-player.html), Mickey Tracing desk (ebay.com), Puzzle (http://gamesmuseum.uwaterloo.ca/VirtualExhibits/disney/),  Charlie’s Angels (http://www.misfittoys.net/wp/blog/2012/02/22/charlies-angels-dolls-vintage-1977-tv-series-stars/ ), Lite Brite (http://4photos.net/en/image:162-77809-Light_Bright_Clown_images), Hot wheels racing track (https://hotwheelsracetracks.wordpress.com/2012/12/04/1970-hot-wheels-sizzlers-newport-pacer-set/#comment-285), rock tumbler (http://rocktumbler.com/blog/smithsonian-rock-tumbler-rolling-stones-rock-tumbler/),

Is “Versatile” A Polite Way of Saying “Will Write About Absolutely Anything?”

I look like I have gone several rounds with Mohammed Ali this morning.  My right eye is one giant saddle bag surrounded by scratches.  Rumour has it, I have acquired an eye virus.  Seriously?  How in the heck does a person get an eye virus?  It’s not as if I’ve been pushing elevator buttons with my retina or rinsing my eyes in other people’s backwash.  And no one has sneezed directly in to my cornea.  Lately.  

And, yes, the full set of Samsonite that has taken residence in what was once my flat and bagless under-eye is damn itchy.  After two consecutive mornings of waking up with massive claw marks–it looks like I’ve been battling Garfield for a lasagna–I have taken to wearing gloves to sleep.  I hate it.  Not only do I hate to have covers over my feet, but it turns out that I also hate having warm hands.  I keep finding my white gloves–they make me look like I have Mickey Mouse hands–everywhere but on my fingers.  And the claw marks continue to materialize.

After a glimpse in the mirror–followed by a wake-the-dead scream–I decided to visit my blogging friends for solace.  You, after all, are unaware of my current monstrous appearance (well, at least you were until I told you about it.  I am an idiot).

And, lo and behold, I have received a nomination for the Versatile Blogger Award!  Behind their swollen itchiness, these Irish eyes are smiling!  Just one question–does “versatile” imply or infer (can never get those two words straight) that I will write about absolutely anything?  I don’t have a problem if it does–because I pretty much will write about anything.  ANYTHING at all.

versatileblogger11

A huge thanks to The View From A Slightly Twisted Angle for nominating me.  If you have not checked out her blog, you must!  It is one of my all-time favourites.  She is absolutely hilarious and never fails to make me laugh out loud.

I have cut and pasted the directions for accepting this award and hope that my crust-riddled eyes have read them correctly.  They are:

  1. Link back to the person who nominated you.
  2. Nominate other blogs for the award.
  3. List 7 random things about you.
  4. Put the award pic on your acceptance post

I have completed numbers 1 and 4.  Yay me.  Now I must nominate some other bloggers.

Twenty Seven In Twelve

Snoring Dog Studio

This, That, and The Other Thang

On The Homefront and Beyond

Swim in the Adult Pool

23thorns

Family Haikus

I thought that seven would be a good number–you know, one for every day of the week.  One of my other favs, Motherhood is an Art received this award at the same time as me.  Otherwise, she would be nominated now too.

Ugh.  Now I must come up with SEVEN random things about myself.  Hm.

1.  When I was a kid, I desperately wanted a dog.  I even pretended to be one for awhile–I answered the door barking etc.  I thought I’d embarrass my parents until they caved.  Due to my allergies, I was limited to getting a poodle.  This thought terrified me.  The only poodles that I had ever seen were the ones with the silly hairdos.  I actually believed they came that way.  Thankfully, when I met the poodle that was to be mine, his hair was fluffy and evenly distributed throughout his body.

Who wouldn't find this pointy-nosed, pom-pom footed, skinny assed dog cute?

Who wouldn’t find this pointy-nosed, pom-pom footed, skinny assed dog cute?

2.  Like I already said, I simply cannot seem to grasp the difference between “infer” and “imply.”   I also seem to call cupboards closets and closets cupboards.

I don’t care if it’s a cupboard or a closet…as long as there isn’t a skeleton hiding in it.

3.  I bought a gift for my friend’s baby that will be born in June.  I’m not really sure what it is.  It is tall and handmade, chocolate brown and white, it sits up and has very long arms.  I call it Bear Monkey Dog.  I think it will be staying at my house permanently and I will be buying her something else.  It matches my chocolate brown walls and I’ve grown rather attached to it.  Whatever it is.

Is it a bear?  A monkey?  A dog?  You decide.

Is it a bear? A monkey? A dog? You decide.

4.  I recently bought a kid’s book for myself.  It is called Stick Man and is, perhaps, one of the best children’s books ever.  He’s a man…and he’s a stick.  It sort of reminds me of the many sticks and rocks that I picked up as a kid and couldn’t put down because I wanted them to come home and “live” at our house.  I was always adopting inanimate objects and feeling sorry for them.  Sort of like Bear Monkey Dog.

Makes you think twice before burning kindling, doesn’t it? Maybe it’s just me.

5.  I love the smell of gas.  Not the farted type.  I like gas as in gas-oline.  I could work at a gas bar just so I could smell the product.  Mm.

I said sniffing “gas,” not ASS.

6. Gail Vaz-Oxlade annoys me.  Yes, she has to deal with an endless parade of morons.  And, yes, half of them come to her for help, but don’t want to listen.  But she bugs the crap out of me.  Nails on a blackboard.  The fact that she is on during suppertime doesn’t help.  Nothing worse than being annoyed during a meal.

I know I’m annoying, but it works. See, I said I wouldn’t shut up until I got a tiara and I got one. .

7.  Carrots are overrated.  I have red hair.  As an adult, I have come to appreciate it.  Part of this is due to the fact that other adults say nice things about it.  As a kid, I HATED having red hair.  And this is down to the fact that other kids said bad things about it.  To this day, I can’t hear a Woody Woodpecker laugh without cringing.  I get more joy out of carving a pumpkin than most non-pumpkin-hair-coloured people do.  And I harbour a deep resentment towards carrots.  To me, they are only good for one thing.  Snowman noses.

Even Frosty has bad “carrot” memories.

Photo Credits:  Poodle (http://lifeissian.wordpress.com), Closet Cupboard (www.scaryforkids.com), Stickman (www.guardian.co.uk), dog butt (sodahead.com), Gail (www.torontosun.com),