It's 1976. I'm heading home from Mrs. McAuliffe's (I think that was her name, I was five) afternoon kindergarten class to my grandmother's house. Every day was exactly the same. In the door, grab a snack and hit the couch. Why?
Fuckin' right.
Ultraman! Defender of justice, helper of the weak, and scourge of men in giant rubber monster suits. To a five year old boy, this was as good as it got. Never mind the voice dubbing. Never mind the little, obviously plastic toy sets. Never mind the one time you saw the actor's tennis shoe peek through his monster costume. This was bigger than life monster brawl action right on the magic box in front of my face! Wooooo!
About six or seven years before boobs existed.
After kindergarten, summer came and went. There wasn't much Ultraman during the summer. Me and the kids on Northway Road were usually outside playing. Watches were for grown-ups so we went in when the sun went down, or when Mrs. Blimline started yelling for Mark to come in for dinner. But first grade was right around the corner and my afternoons with Ultraman were back on. Or so I thought.
First day of first grade goes by with Sister Sara Marie. I go to the private car line, get a ride home from my grandmother, take off my navy blue tie and plant my ass in front of Captain Chesapeake ready for another half hour of monster crushing, laser blasting goodness. And staring me in the face is this smug prick...
"I've got your Ultraman right here."
What. The. Fuck. Let's go over this real fast. I'm something like six years old. I don't know about television ratings or new fall seasons or even that TV shows even ended. This is a major mind screw and there's nothing I could do about it. All I know is that Ultraman should be here waiting for me and he isn't. I've got this asshole blonde kid whose father has no regard for his safety while he orders around this Indian kid in a turban. What the fuck is going on? The kid's got a rifle and no parental supervision whatsoever. I'm not even allowed to have a BB gun yet. Fuck this spoiled globe-traveling brat. But I have faith. Ultraman should be on next, right? Maybe first grade ends at a different time than kindergarten. Keep it together, man...
But, no. I sat there all afternoon, frozen. I didn't eat dinner. I watched every stupid commercial just in case Ultraman sneaked on between the Count Chocula and Slinky. Nothing. "First grade is bullshit!" kept running through my mind. Maybe not the word bullshit, but the post toddler/pre pre-teen equivalent. I hated Captain Chesapeake. I really did. How could he and Mondy betray me like this? Stupid sea monster. Looked like a shiny trash bag with half a fake alligator head. Needless to say, I was a little salty.
But hey, maybe Captain Chesapeake just forgot. He was getting old and talking to puppets all day. I know it would get to me, and I was a child. Let's just wait until after my second day of first grade. I go through the whole day on edge. Math, art, PB&J and cheese curls. Maybe gym, I don't know. I had important shit on my mind. All I can think about is getting home to my beloved Ultraman show. In the car, out of the car, right to the couch and...
"I ate Ultraman's soul while you were out."
That's it. I can't trust Captain Chesapeake ever again. It was over, and life went on. I did a lot of growing up in those two days. I even tried to do the mature thing. I gave Jonny Quest a try. It replaced Ultraman. Maybe it's pretty good. Well the short answer to that was, 'not even remotely'. What the hell is going on here? This kid doesn't have to go to school and gets to fight criminals or terrorists or jewel thieves? Horseshit! I even saw they had monsters or something like a monster once. Let me ask you this. What would you rather watch? This...
Angry jelly?
Or would you rather watch this?
It's like a modern day rap battle with creatures that can crush entire towns under their feet by accident. Ultraman even gives the little Bruce Lee 'Bring It' taunt at the end. No contest.
Plus, Jonny Quest was a racist. He forced his Indian friend to wear a turban even if they were of in the Amazon chasing flying piranha monster bank robbers or some shit. Don't you think Hadji would have liked to wear a tee shirt and some cargo pants to keep cool in a tropical jungle? I'm pretty sure he didn't even want to be there. Just because one lunatic family has some kind of death wish doesn't mean he does.
"It's okay, he likes when I treat him like this."
"No Hadji, they don't have any pants in your size."
Notice the little tyrant is still making Hadji wear his turban, ON THE FUCKING BEACH! And what is going on here? Why is Benton Quest crushing that dog's neck? Where are their towels? That beach is way too secluded for what is going on in this picture. Plus check this out...
"Just a couple of dudes being secret agents. That's all."
Notice the unmade bed And before I hear a bunch of shit, this has nothing to do with being gay. You want to be gay? Go crazy. Be gay squared, whatever you want. But don't lie to me and sell me a bill of goods about being secret agents with all of this technology and hardware but we can't afford two rooms in some godforsaken third world backwater hotel.
"Why are we all going to share a bath?"
Hadji should get the hell away from these guys as fast as possible.
Dude, I remember Ultraman disappearing from the Captain Chesapeake show as well. I was a huge fan of both. Same thing with Star Blazers, it just disappeared off tv one day. *sigh*
ReplyDelete