Electra Woman and Dyna Girl

Way back in "the day," when I was about 10 years old (1976, to be precise), one of my favorite TV shows was Electra Woman and Dyna Girl, about 2 female superheros--reporters by day, who battle all manner of villains in skin-tight body suits and capes. They have their own secret hideout, the Electrabase, lots of cool superhero gadgets, and even their own Electra-car. How could anyone not love a show like that?

Electra Woman was played by Deidre Hall, better known now for her role on Days of Our Lives. But back then, she was Electra-cool as the head super hero. And Dyna Girl was played by Judy Strangis, who was also one of the stars of the popular Room 222 (and yes, I watched that show too!).

Electra Woman, and her Electra-terrific sidekick, Dyna Girl (dig those pony tails), got to wear these special Electra bracelets that let them do all sorts of things, thanks to their gadget man (come on, even James Bond has a gadget man!), Frank.

Eat your heart out, Wonder Woman!

And they would use their powers to fight such bad guys as The Empress of Evil, Leggs and Spinner, The Sorcerer, and Spider Lady...just to name a few.

The show only lasted about one season, but that was long enough to leave an Electra-fied impression on my ten-year-old self. So that's why I picked it for this week's Flashback Friday post. I know, I know...I'm an Electra-geek.

The Pacer

What do you get when you cross:

With

A place on the list of the Top Ugliest Cars Ever Made?

[Yeah, OK, that too]

But no, what you get is:

Yep, AMC's questionable brainchild of the 70's: The Pacer. And why, you ask, is this my Flashback Friday post topic for this week? Simple really...because I learned to drive in an AMC Pacer. And I'll admit it: I thought the Pacer was kinda cool...at first. When we got our used one (I was never clear on why we got THAT particular vehicle), I thought it was neat, even if it was kind of funny looking. It was different, that's for sure. But over time, it started looking rather like a turtle, or at least like a really fat Pinto. And the doors were so big and heavy, and had a tendency to pull closed against their own weight. You had to be sure to get your extremities inside quickly, for fear you'd lose a digit on the way in. It was also really, incredibly S-L-O-W. Honestly, the car had no balls at all. And when you're a teenager, speed is important in a vehicle...especially when you can in no way count on the looks of it to fetch your friends' approval.

My mom wasn't the least bit thrilled by the Pacer purchase. I think her first words to the spousal unit were, "Take it back." Daddio had a habit of bringing home vehicles; he was a car salesman for many years, so he often drove trade-ins home for the night. But sometimes, much to mom's shock and horror, he would bring home some absolute nightmare of automotive conception that we were keeping. The Pacer, clearly, ranked right up there on her list of cars to never drive, let alone own. So she was none too thrilled to have it parked in our driveway. Needless to say, we didn't have it for long...just long enough for me to learn to drive in it. And really, you just have to imagine how cool I looked sitting in the driver's seat of that bubble on wheels. Do the words "teen angst" mean anything to ya?!

On the plus side, since my mom absolutely hated The Pacer, the next rig we got was a glorious improvement. And I was thrilled every day I got to drive it into the school parking lot after I got my driver's license.

That, my friends, is what I call a car! And come to think of it, I met the Hubs when I was driving that car. But pre-Mustang, I couldn't even get a date. Hmm. I'm beginning to wonder if it was me that caught his eye...or that car?? LOL. We got rid of the Mustang eventually, but the Hubs is still around, so it couldn't have just been the car. But hey, it probably didn't hurt either.

Whoever Smelt It

The Hubs and I decided to get a quick bite to eat at a local restaurant here called The Cabbage Patch. It's just a little ways out of town, a nice drive along the river...when it's not raining, and cold enough to make you wonder why you didn't just stay in your warm house with a bowl of hot soup! But hey, I wasn't in the mood to cook soup or anything else. So if the Hubs says lets hit The Cabbage Patch, I'm sure not gonna argue.

I had the Country Fried Steak. What's that...do I mean Chicken Fried Stick? Well heck no, not this far north of Mississippi. Up here, they call it Country Fried Steak. And if you call it Chicken Fried Steak, it really confuses folks around here.

"It's not Chicken, M'am, it's, er, beef," the waitress will say.

"Yes," I say, "it's beef...that's fried...like Chicken."

And while she walks away pondering the Chicken vs. Beef dichotomy, I'll have a little chuckle at the inside joke that anyone who's ever lived inside of the state of Texas is in on. We know what Chicken Fried Steak is, and it's just kind of funny when it's not listed correctly on a menu.

At any rate, this isn't supposed to be about my dinner. No, no. It's about the Hubs dinner. I guess he likes to live on the edge once in awhile, walk on the wild side, so to speak. So instead of having the Lasagna special, or the usual burger, he decides to order...Smelt.

Smelt?!

[What the hell is Smelt and why is it on a menu?!]

Smelt is just a little fish, apparently fairly common in the Great Lakes area (how did I not know this?), that don't get much bigger than 7 inches long--but that's on a good day. The ones the Hub was eating weren't any bigger than, well, bait. And seriously, that is what it reminded me of when he was eating them. And it really kind of grossed me out. There is something fundamentally wrong with eating a fish that most folks would use...to catch bigger fish. It's just messed up. Think about it: would you eat a baby chick, instead of a full grown chicken? I think not. To me, the Smelt are no different, even though they're basically full grown and fully capable of giving their lives for someone's supper at The Cabbage Patch. But still, look at those little fishy eyes and tell me that doesn't bug you, at least a little. Yuck.

His were fried, sans the eyes and fins, which is fortunate for both of us. Because had I seen a single eye in that pile of fried Smelt, I would have promptly projectile vomited my not-quite-Chicken Fried Steak.

Check, please!

Kissing is Pee Chee, but…

This post is not about Kissing! LOL This is my Flashback Friday post for this week on one of my favorite blasts from my 80's high school past: Pee Chees!

Pee Chees were THE folders to have when I was in high school in Washington State. Probably lame by today's slick, glossy and sparkly folder standards, Pee Chees were the coolest of cool folders back in the day. They were made of simple card stock and inside had two pockets, and some useful reference information. But they were far more than just folders; they were your notepads, your art galleries, and your all around means of adolescent self-expression. If you didn't customize your Pee Chees, face it, there was just something wrong with you.

There were some standard Pee Chee graffiti touches: adding thought bubbles to each of the athletic characters--ranging from the simple to the truly profane; changing the attire of the characters by coloring them in with tuxedos, or tutus, or making them look like stoners; or my personal favorite, changing the Pee Chee logo phrase from "Pee Chee All Season Portfolio," to "Kissing is Pee Chee, but Sex is an All Season Sport." You just had to have that one!

I think I still have a Pee Chee stashed away in my memory trunk somewhere. Someday after I'm gone, when my daughter is sorting through my torn and tattered memories, she'll find that Pee Chee and wonder what the heck it is and why I kept it....its coolness will be completely lost on her. But hey, that's OK. Sometimes coolness is obvious and in your face; but then other times it's hidden, in something as simple as a Pee Chee.