BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

Let me tell you something, Buzz Lightyear ain’t got nothin’ on my childhood.

The year was 1967… The date, December 25th…

I was right at two months shy of being 6 years old and just as important – especially to a wide-eyed child who had a fascination with the space program – the United States was less than two years away from safely landing two men on the Moon then returning them safely to Earth.

Of course, prior to Science Fact establishing a foothold, Science Fiction is what will capture our attentions…

Lost in Space was keeping kids entertained, me included. I even had a puppy love crush on Angela Cartwright who played the part of Penny on the series. Much to my chagrin I suspect my Kindergarten teacher, (Miss Flynn was her name at the time), probably still has an audio recording (on reel-to-reel tape, originally) of me saying, “Penny on Lost in Space is my girlfriend.”

Yeah… for real… Of course, Ms. Cartwright was several years older than me, and had absolutely no clue that I even existed, but hey, that was a minor obstacle to a 5-going-on-6 year old. So there… I preemptively embarrassed myself. Therefore, if I ever run for public office and the tape surfaces, nobody can claim I was suppressing it.

Star Trek, in its original incarnation complete with an overacting William Shatner and stoic Leonard Nimoy, was keeping adult minds occupied with thoughts of space travel and life beyond our solar system. And, some of us kids followed it as well. Although, I will readily admit that I didn’t have a proper appreciation for the women’s Starfleet uniforms until I hit puberty, but we won’t go there…

Instead, let’s get back around to December 1967… Christmas Eve and Christmas Day in particular… You see, even back then the toy industry was on board with current events marketing and media tie-ins. While I often tell my daughter that when I was her age I received a stick, a rock, and a cardboard box for Christmas if I was lucky, the truth is there were a few plastic items under the tree – although, they didn’t begin to harbor the electronics and technology of today. Back then, if “Santa” left you something that ran on batteries, it was considered the high-ticket item of the holiday.

So, 1967… There I was, an almost 6 year old with a crush on a gorgeous older woman “space babe” who happened to be a TV star coupled with an intense fascination with the U. S. Space Program. “Santa” had it pretty easy that year…

The toy of choice for boys (yes, I realize that is sexist, but we are talking about 1967 here so please just suck it up and deal with the fact that our society hadn’t pulled its collective head out of its collective ass just yet… I was only 5. I had no influence on attitudes just yet, not that I do now either)… Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah… The toy of choice for boys that year was an astronaut action figure known as Major Matt Mason. (He was originally introduced in 1966 and gained steam by the following Christmas)… Yeah. WAYYY before Buzz Lightyear came onto the scene…

Click Here For 1966 Major Matt Mason TV Commercial

Major Matt Mason was cool. He was a military astronaut, he was bendable, had a removable helmet to go along with his molded on pressure suit, and he came with bitchin’ accessories like a Jet Pack and Space Sled. The Sled involved flying it around by hand while making your own whooshing noises, however the Jet Pack was another story. You hooked a string to a point above you such as a doorframe, then pulled the string on the bottom of the pack – a whirr of the flywheel gear would ensue, the spiraly decorated spindle in the back would turn, and Matt Mason would zoom upward. Of course, when you released the tension on the string he would plummet back to the ground, but that was just a minor technicality, because on the Moon there would be far less gravity to deal with. Besides, Major Matt Mason was a Major… And an Astronaut.  The perils of space were many, but he was tough and he could take it…

And, those were just the accessories that came with him on the blister card packaging – (therefore, you tended to collect extra Jet Packs and Sleds each time you bought a figure to replace the damaged Major. You see, the wires in his arms and legs didn’t hold up to the friction of bending and unbending for very long… The perils of space he could handle. The perils of being bent into a pretzel by little kids were a different story…) – But, back to other accessories. He even had himself an oddly barrel-shaped suit for excursions on the Moon’s surface, sold separately or even with a figure in the package (after all, those appendage wires would soon be breaking). The corrugated arms of the suit moved by the use of an ultra-high tech mechanism, that being an air bellows. Squeeze – the arms splayed open. Release – the arms folded back toward the shell. See, I told you we didn’t need no stinkin’ batteries…

Well, almost… The Major did have a few powered accessories – the most notable of these being the Space Crawler. A bizarre contraption with offset spoked legs that thumped and wobbled across the floor with him in the driver’s seat. Let me tell you, on hardwood you could definitely hear him coming… The round humps that have little, molded turbine-looking tops were where you put the two D-Cell batteries required to power the motor. One of the really cool things about the Space Crawler is that it was designed so that you could turn it on its side, attach it to the top of the multi-level moon station (something I received from the red-suited elf the following Christmas) and it would spin around like a big radar antenna.

In addition to receiving the Moon Base/Station, I also picked up a few of the Major’s crew, an alien or two, as well as the FireBolt Laser Cannon. After all, if you are the Earth’s first line of defense against alien invasions, you definitely need a Laser Cannon.

Alas, as with most childrens toys, the Major, his crew, and all of their accessories disappeared from my toy box as they broke, fell from favor, or just plain ended up lost. Unfortunate, because they were discontinued in the early 70’s and are now a toy collector’s dream, garnering some serious cash.

And so, what has made me relive this here for you now? Well, obviously Christmas Eve is tomorrow. I’m Forty-Odd years older than that kid who played with a bendy astronaut doll and had a crush on Angela Cartwright, but even after all this time I remember Major Matt Mason, and the fact that it was one of my favorite toys of all time.

I understand that Tom Hanks is currently developing a film based on the toy. Given how close he and I are in age, it wouldn’t surprise me if he had a Major Matt Mason too.

You know, of course, it will be a moral imperative that I go see this movie if it ever comes to fruition…

And, lest you think I only dreamed this childhood memory…

Christmas Eve… After the fat elf visited. I was down the hall in my room, of course, fast asleep…

A little closer look at what the dude in the red suit left under the tree…

Yes, that’s me on Christmas Morning…

No, I’m not pulling his head off. Just his helmet…

And what of my crush? What of Angela Cartwright / Penny Robinson and Lost in Space? Well, as you can see in the first Black & White picture, 1966 was a good year Space Toys. I was able to defend our home against alien invasion with an official Lost in Space laser rifle (that broke down into three laser pistols)… And, those spinning things it shot off the end? Hurt like hell. True story…

More to come…

Murv

(Color images of Major Matt Mason toys and accessories borrowed from various nostalgia and antique toy sites around the web. Black and white photos from the Sellars family photo archive.)

And so the dance of deception begins…

What dance? What deception? Read on…

In recent months some of the news organizations had their work cut out for them battling against slow news days. By “slow news days” I mean those stretches where the only news was the same old sucky economy and healthcare debate. Nothing new… No dead celebs, no scandals that hadn’t already been beaten to death, no multi-tuplets, and no shocking tragedies.

They needed something to wax poetic about, as usual, and so they filled the “news holes” with feature programming. One in particular that stood out from the crowd – for me, at least – was when they dusted off a bit of psychology coupled with the Internet. I probably took notice of it because of my fascination with the human condition and how our minds work, but something tells me I’m not the only one had an interest in this subject. (Duh, Sellars! Why else would they be doing the reports you doofus? Yes, I know, sometimes I can be Captain Obvious Doofus Guy…)

What am I babbling about? Simple – the news programs ran some feature reports about the “wisdom of looking up your old flames on the Internet.”

Is it wise to do so?

Is it not so smart after all?

And, what is it you are really after?

Well, personally I found these reports to be interesting, again, because of my fascination with psychopathologies and what makes people tick. They were nothing new. There have been articles about this before, but the statistics and correlations between them and other statistics (divorce for instance) keep changing… And not necessarily for the better.

However, as usual I thought their reports were a bit stilted and incomplete. By that I mean, they skewed it to make things sound like people don’t harbor subconscious intentions, and we all know that’s not true. But, moreover, they didn’t really get into the warning signs of the whole “what are you really after” factor. They had psychologists babbling about how it really isn’t a good idea to go in search of old flames because you might get in over your head, but they were simply paying lip service to the advice. No substance. No admissions that intentions aren’t pure. And most especially, no red flags for the prey of the “old flame hunters” out there who end up sliding down that slope as well if they aren’t careful.

Well, being a somewhat public figure, as mentioned in the past I have actually had to deal with stalkers a time or two. And, while not exactly the caliber of stalkers, I have also had to deal with old flames looking me up.

Yes, I know it comes as a shock to many of you, but I actually dated before becoming an indentured servant to the Evil Redhead. And, I know it’s an even bigger shock to discover that any of them would actually want to look me up after managing to get rid of me… Well, just imagine how surprised I was as well, so there…

But, moving right along… Said flames have ranged anywhere from a “quick flick of the Bic” to “long lasting bonfires.” However, the common thread and most important point about them is that they have long been extinguished and there are no smoldering embers – at my end anyway.

Now, I should point out that there is a difference between an old friend and an old flame. If you don’t know what that is, go back to 5th grade health class and watch the birds ‘n bees filmstrip again (yeah, dating myself…) And, there is a huge difference between looking up an old flame and looking up an old flame then contacting them.

Especially if the old flame happens to be married.

These latter two points are exactly what I am talking about.

So, while I don’t even begin to consider myself an expert on the subject, I do happen to have more than just a bit of experience in this area, as well as some intense background studying irrational behavior (I write about sociopaths, remember?)

Admittedly, I hold no degrees in the subject of psychology. But, as noted, I write fiction for a living, and as any fiction author can tell you, we are lifelong students of human behavior. It’s how we make our stories real. So, while we aren’t licensed to help you cope with your clinical depression, odds are we can spot a bullshit artist quicker than your average bear. And yes, that talent also draws from the old adage, “it takes one to know one,” as fiction authors are bullshit artists by trade. What makes us different from other BS’ers is that we readily admit it.

So anyway, it recently dawned on me that perhaps I could put my powers of BS X-Ray vision to use for the good of mankind, and at least partially fill the void left by the feature news programs. Especially since it is “that time of year” – yes, the holidays – which as it turns out is when statistically there is a sharp rise in the number of “old flame contacting” occurrences. (I have a pet theory that Dan Fogelberg and his song, Same Old Lang Syne are directly responsible for this phenomenon. I call it the Fogelberg Unwanted Creepy Kook Marriage Encroacher Effect or FUCKMEE for short.)

To that end, I am offering here a “red flag dictionary” of sorts. A modest listing of phrases often used – and reused – by “old flames/flings on the prowl.” The thing is, they appear perfectly innocent at first, but when unwrapped they look absolutely nothing like the representation on the outer packaging.

And there you have it.

While the “what it really means” column was presented with a bit of over-the-top, tongue in cheek verbiage for the entertainment value, it isn’t actually far off the mark. The stark reality is that more often than not, the gist of the “hidden sentiments” are exactly the same as those listed above, even if the words themselves aren’t. Word choices have meaning, both obvious and hidden. They are hooks, they are invitations, they are designed to evoke a response. Ask any writer – it’s what we do.

Statistically, the whole old flame thing is a slippery slope. If you don’t believe me, here’s a link to an article written about it back in 2006 – Think Twice. The one thing in this particular article I take exception with is the idea that these things start innocently. This is where I step out over the abyss and state that I think perhaps writers just may know a little bit more about human nature than psychologists doing experiments with a room full of chimpanzees, a crate of bananas, and some bad porn tapes. Primarily because of the fact that a simple universal constant is always ignored, that being – nobody is completely innocent after the onset of puberty. Yes, the “father of modern psychology,” old Sigmund himself (the psychiatrist, not the sea monster) said that, “Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.” Well, that’s true. But, it’s the intent of the person holding said cigar that is at issue here.

Furthermore, I would posit that rather than being the norm for an old flame or fling to contact someone out of the blue after several years simply because they care how they are doing, it is in fact the complete opposite – extremely rare. Whether conscious or subconscious, in contacting an old flame or fling, a person is hoping to re-kindle a feeling that once existed because it is something that is currently missing from their life. And, as noted in the article, the percentage of these “old flame contacts” has grown because the internet has made it easy to chase people down.

But, you need to be aware, people don’t go looking for you unless they want something. That’s a hard, cold fact.

Take it from someone who has not only been on the receiving end of such contacts, but knows others who have as well. There’s an entire story written between the lines, and it’s not Hallmark material…

And trust me dear readers, that is non-fiction…

More to come…

Murv