R is for Rugrat

So, I’m a bum or I was exceedingly busy this weekend. Either way, I’m late with my R and I might be late with my S.

Way back when I was a teenager we all doted on my nephew. He was the first grandchild, the first (and only boy), the first nephew. I loved that kid like crazy mad. Still do. He’s a great kid…young man…crap! Seriously, he’s an adult now, but I still see him as a kid. I can’t help it.

The 90s was the decade of Nickelodeon. All the very best shows from that network are firmly placed in the 90s (Double Dare and You Can’t Do That On Television excluded). The 90s saw Clarissa Explains It All, Blue’s Clues, Doug and of course, Rugrats.

Kyle and I loved Rugrats and made a big event each week watching the new episodes. I couldn’t tell you who was more excited about Tommy’s antics or Chuckie’s OCD. Rugrats was our thing. Sure Kirsten and Mom would watch occasionally, but they didn’t understand the appeal and wonder that was Rugrats.

For Kyle, I image the appeal might have been a sense of independence, taking charge of his childhood like Tommy and escaping the nursery. For me, Rugrats reminded me of the wonderful way children view the world, they way I still wanted to view the world…Heck! I still view the world like that sometimes where a sandy playground becomes a desert; a staircase becomes a Mount Everest waiting to be scaled.

Rugrats, at its heart, should remind us that adventure is always waiting sometimes it’s just a matter of how we see things.

Rugrat is a noun from the 1970s that means small child.

Example: Roger ran through the rain to the rodeo hoping that the rugrats would still be riding the sheep, easily the creepiest and entertaining portion of the rodeo. 

This post has been brought to you by the Letter R and the fine folks at Blogging A to Z. Check out more A to Z blogs here! 

Zombie Haiku and Early Morning Ramblings

Zombie Haiku

Zombies are moaning
Outside of my locked window
Calling for my brains.

Why do I fear them?
Rotting away. Shambling.
Piles of grey flesh.

They will never stop
In their quest for squishy brains.
Mine must be tasty.

Lock all of the doors.
Board up the first floor windows.
Prepare for the worst.

Grey flesh sloughing off,
Organs and gore oozing out,
Black, soulless, empty.

Contingency plans
Should have contingency plans.
Plan A never works.

Scream all through the night,
No help will be there for you.
Stare into the night.

Alone in the house,
Bloody fingernails scratching,
Ripping at the door.

The dead are walking.
Humankind is at an end.
The dead will consume.

Two thousand and twelve
The Mayans knew what we don’t:
Dead will walk again.

Why worry about
The Nasdaq and the Dow Jones?
Zombies on Wall Street.

I really need to stop reading Zombie stories before I go to bed!

Early Morning Ramblings

If the Borg tried conversion rather than assimilation, I think people would be more willing to be Borg. Here’s why: we claim we want to be unique individuals, yet we exhibit our individuality by following all the latest trends and fads. One of our fears is not fitting in, not being “normal.” Think about it. The Borg allow all people to follow the same trends…that of the Hive Queen. All people fit in whether they are Human, Ferengi, or Klingon. Race doesn’t matter. Gender doesn’t matter. The Borg work together for a united front. Isn’t that what we all claim we want? Peace? The Borg want it too and actually work together to achieve it.

Teenagers are the worst form of humanity on the face of the planet. Hormonal, awkward and gangly, they look to fit in by being nasty and mean. I will accept the claim that all humans are selfish (even those that appear selfless) however, I would claim that teenagers are the epitome of this ideal. It is the teenager mind that wraps around itself and refuses to acknowledge the existence of anything else but themselves. It is a very rare occurrence that teenagers at selflessly. And yes, I realize that this is a huge generalization.

Arthur is really the best cartoon on television today. The new cartoons cater to trends and fads. They offer fluff and cotton. Arthur has substance. By no means am I making the claim that the cartoons I grew up with were any different. Fluff, cotton and catering to a mass market and consumerism, the cartoons I grew up with are no better that that of Dragon Ball Z, SpongeBob, and Mickey Mouse (the new adventures). It is just that Arthur is funny, moral, and real. Kids can relate to it. Hell, I can relate to it! Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not knocking today’s cartoons. I’ve learned to like SpongeBob. I enjoy others as well – I can’t think of any right now, but I’m sure there are some out there.

What have I learned today through my early morning ramblings? Fear Zombies and Teenagers. The Borg aren’t all that bad. Arthur rocks!! And I probably shouldn’t philosophize first thing in the morning.