My First Mission as a Pint-Sized Ghostbuster

pintsizedghostbuster
As a kid, most movies I saw made me want to actually be in the movie itself. This compulsion lead my best friend and I to initiate what’s basically equivalent to role playing our own story lines with complete creative control, but without having to rely on rolling dice. We usually made the stories up as we went along, culled directly from our active imaginations. It’s a practice commonly referred to as pretending. One of the earliest memories I have of one of these sessions was back in the summer of 1984.

We lived our characters. If we “played Batman,” we had costumes and props and if we “played Back to the Future,” my buddy wore his down vest a.k.a his “life preserver.” Aside from Masters of the Universe and Super Powers, one of the earliest memories I have of doing this was the day I became a Ghostbuster. This was way before being a Real Ghostbuster was even possible because it was right after my mom took me to see the original Ghostbusters at Movie City 5 in Iselin, NJ in 1984.

After seeing Ghostbusters, my path in life was revealed to me. Although, that same summer I also wanted to enter a karate competition and get a black skeleton body suit, but the Ghostbusters gig actually came in handy sometimes.

Some kids are fearless. It would be unnatural to say I wasn’t scared of anything back then, but as a little tyke I was really only scared of Michael Jackson in Thriller when he had those yellow eyes. Nothing was creepier to me. But when it came to the supernatural and ghostly activity, I loved it. I wanted to be around the supernatural as much as humanly possible. Even before I ever saw Ghostbuters, my favorite attraction in Disneyland was the Haunted Mansion. After my first trip there ever, all I talked about was that ride. My parents still tell me how enthralled I was with seeing the hitchhiking ghosts and how supremely amused I was at having sat by an actual ghost (or so I thought) in our Doom Buggy as the ride came to an end. I was the type of kid who loved all the stuff that scared the crap out of all my friends. It may have been all this conditioning that prepared me for my first ghostly experience.

It’s not often that I have to do much in the way of investigative work to formulate a post for this site. Once in a while though, it helps to return to the scene if details in my brain are sketchy. In preparing to write this post, I felt that I needed to jog my memory since what I’m about to let you in on happened so long ago when I was very young.

First, the back story. When I was a little kid, my older sister had a close friend who we’ll call Mary. It was no big secret that I had a major crush on the angelic Mary. Although I would get all weird and uncomfortable if anyone asked me about my dreamy, dirty blonde maiden or mentioned my infatuation for her in conversation, I still didn’t mind advertising the fact that I adored her, it just had to be on my own volition.

Mary’s appearances were rare. Only getting to see her maybe a few times a year amplified the occasions that I did see her. The only sucky part was that she wasn’t there to see me, she was there to hang out with her pal, my sister. When the time came that the two of them would get together, I knew that the time I’d get to be in her presence was limited. And yes, I was the annoying little brother, but I complied when I was told that they needed to hang out by themselves with no interference.

Once in a while, when the situation presented itself, I was invited to hang out with them. Those times were few and far between, but I savored those moments. And it wasn’t just to be able to hang out with the object of my desire, I also loved being able to hang out with my sister too.

Early on, Mary lived fairly close to us, but she moved about 1,400 miles away due to her father’s job. You can imagine how much more rare her visits became. Fortunately, Mary’s grandparents used to live in an old house a few towns away from us, and when she did come to visit, maybe once or twice a year, she’d stay with them. Their development was filled with giant houses built around the turn of the century. As I eluded to, I’m not sure why, but I was invited along with my sister to go to Mary’s grandparents house one day when she was visiting.

When we pulled up to the house in my Mom’s early ’70s Chevy Caprice, a car that felt like a 2-door Peacekeeper missile to a preschooler, I was in awe of the “mansion” that towered before us. It wasn’t an actual mansion, but to me, it sure looked like one. With an imagination as wild as mine was, this place could easily have had 37 bedrooms inside for all I knew. My house had 3 and I thought that was a lot.

Just like plenty of houses built during the same time, the interior seemed to be made of some kind of expensive wood. I’d never been in a house quite as stately before. We were in a middle class town, so the property wasn’t exactly built on a sprawling estate. My feeling probably stemmed from the fact that I was a little kid and it all seemed so grand at the time and different than what I was used to.

Perusing the inside, I noticed the seemingly never ending staircase, which immediately reminded me of the scene in Ghostbusters when they took the emergency stairs to the top of Dana Barrett’s apartment building. Thinking back, the staircase reminds me more of the one in the Bates house in Psycho rather than the scene in Ghostbusters, but I hadn’t scene Psycho yet.

It didn’t take more than a few milliseconds before my curiosity took control of me and launched me up the stairs without any regard for the inhabitants of the house. I sped up the stairs with reckless abandon. What if I’d be walking in on someone getting out of a shower, or waking someone up who was taking a nap? I didn’t care and I finally made it to the first landing. There was an open window adorned with white drapes that were slowly lifting by themselves (or so I thought) due to the incoming breeze. There was something so haunting about the silky, white, almost see through drapes, especially on such an eerily calm day. It was cloudy, warm, and comfortable, but not hot or humid enough to need air conditioning. In fact, it looked like it might storm later that day. As I toured one of the upper floors (there were at least 3 levels and an attic) I noticed that most of the other windows in the house had a similar drape situation as well.

The breeze moving the drapes made me feel like this place had to be haunted. I ran back down the stairs to make sure my sister and Mary were still there. Oblivious to the fact that Mary was standing behind one of the drapes, she jumped out at me and thought she scared the living crap out of me, but little did she know that it was merely a matter of a day or two since I’d seen Ghosbusters so instead of getting scared, I just got excited. “This could be my first job” I thought to myself. Next thing I knew, I was pretending to bust ghosts while upstairs in her grandparents house.

We couldn’t find my sister but I assumed she was hiding to try and scare me too. As Mary and I descended the stairs, my sister seemed to have come out of nowhere before us. That’s when they started getting serious. Keep in mind, the girls were only a few years older than me, but we were all very young at the time. They started telling me that they planned on trying to scare me, but instead they began telling me all about the ghosts that they believed haunted the house. Just as I expected. Janine, don’t worry about ringing the buzzer, I got this one. Sorry about the bug eyes thing, I’ll be checking out Mary, uh, I mean Mary’s grandparent’s house.

It did cross my mind that if this house was haunted, that’s precisely why I was asked to join my sister – to bust some ghosts! Of course! I listened intensely to Mary and my sister describe the array of mysterious occurrences that happened in the house. Mind you, these are stories that were actually reiterated by her grandparents to my own parents, meaning this was the real deal, not just a couple of ball busting kids trying to scare the youngest one.

I heard all about bedroom doors that slammed by themselves and the aforementioned drapes on the windows continued to ripple even after the windows are closed. I knew something was up with those damn drapes. They went on to describe hearing people walking up the creaky wooden stairs, but no one was ever seen.

I believed ALL of it, and I was taking detailed mental notes as if I just accepted a job to eliminate a focused non-terminal repeating phantasm or a class 5 full roaming vapor at the Sedgewick Hotel. I would’ve given off a more professional vibe, but it wasn’t until a couple of years later that Kenner marketed an actual Proton Pack and Ghost trap toy. Armed with nothing but an imaginary proton pack, I swore I would protect the girls if anything happened. It wasn’t about showing off or being brave in front of my princess. It was now about defeating evil spirits who may not have liked us being in their old dwelling playing around. I knew how things worked, even back then and I didn’t need Tobin’s Spirit Guide either.

The fun didn’t end after the girls kept trying to freak me out. That didn’t work because I just kept getting more excited. Another kid might’ve cried and begged to go home. I wanted to stay forever.
As if the day wasn’t overwhelming enough, Mary asked if we wanted to go try on costumes. When the hell could any kid refuse a good cosplay session? I’ve always loved dressing up for Halloween so this was a super appealing suggestion to me. We made our way back up several flights of stairs and then it was time to go into the attic.

The attic was huge. It was a quintessential attic that you’d see in a movie. It was filled with dusty old creepy paintings in ornate gold frames, seasonal decorations, ancient photos, and boxes of random knick-knacks. The Goonies hadn’t been released yet, but if you remember when Mouth, Chunk, Brand, Data, and Mikey were all up in the attic discovering all the cool artifacts up there, this was very similar. There were big old wooden trunks filled with costumes and masks that we tried on. My sister and Mary wore beads and put on crazy hats while trying to act glamorous. I wasn’t part of their little costume party since there was mostly just girl stuff and I was on important business to take care of. I was concentrating on locating the evil spirit and locking it away indefinitely.

My endorphins were off the charts and I didn’t think my imagination could get any crazier at that point, but it did. We left the attic and Mary and my sister brought me over to a small compartment in the wall outside a couple of the bedrooms. Mary opened it and told me it was a trap door. Where the hell was I? This was a haunted house! It was actually a dumb waiter! I thought a dumbwaiter was a secret elevator for kids. Other than Webster, I personally never knew of anyone rich enough in my limited circles during that time to have one of these. At that moment it was so cool and mysterious. In my mind, it very well could’ve been a trap door.

It really felt like it was just the three of us. As I made my way up the stairs even further, I remember the house being virtually empty except for “the spirits,” that my sister and Mary told me about. To you, the reader, it sounds logical that my sister may have informed Mary that we had recently seen Ghostbusters and they devised a plan to try to freak me out. A game of “hide and scare,” if you will. Little did they know that I was on my way to becoming an official pint sized junior Ghostbuster and it would only enhance my experience “playing Ghostbusters.”

If you ask my sister about this, she’ll remember the day, but not the details. That’s most likely because it wasn’t as monumental of a time for her as it was for me. Coming off seeing Ghosbusters for the first time ever and getting to hang out with Mary, I was pretty much on a high that whole summer. A young boy let loose in the immense antique abode in the early ’80s, just call me Danny Torrance. Only I was a kid turning the corners of the halls of the house in an imaginary Ecto-1, not getting scared by the Grady Twins, but my big sister and her friend…my first crush.

New Jersey’s Great Pop Culture Moments Vol.57: The Hurricane

The Hurricane MovieAs I sit at my computer I can barely concentrate due to the violent winds firing a barrage of liquid bullets at my windows. Weather reports have supposedly downgraded the storm but it seems like we are experiencing a full fledged hurricane. The President and Governor have declared a state of emergency in New Jersey and the surrounding areas. About a million people have evacuated our shore towns. Casinos have been shut down for only the 3rd time in over 30 years. So, while I still have power and Internet service, I’d like to recommend some appropriate viewing in case you are looking for something to watch since you’re probably stuck indoors for the next day or so.

Despite accusations of it not being absolutely historically accurate, I still recommend you check out 1999’s “The Hurricane,” which features another first rate performance by Denzel Washington. Washington was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Actor and also took home a Golden Globe award for his work in the film and his turn was also lauded by Roger Ebert as being “on a par with his work in Malcom X.”

The biographical film of middleweight boxer Rubin “Hurricane” Carter’s life works best if you aren’t too familiar with his unfortunate story. Carter was wrongly convicted for a murder in Paterson, New Jersey in 1966 and spent 20 years in prison for it. It’s a compelling and tense drama filled with emotional performances and engrossing boxing sequences. The film also stars Deborah Unger, Liev Schreiber, Rod Steiger, Dan Hedaya, David Paymer, Debbi Morgan, and Vincent Pastore.

The Hurricane sign
A few interesting facts about the film:

– Bob Dylan’s 1975 protest song “Hurricane” is featured on the soundtrack and according to Wikipedia, Dylan visited Carter in prison and later wrote the song.

– Thanks to the film’s IMDB profile, the filming locations included East Jersey State Prison (Rahway Prison), Paterson NJ, and Trenton NJ.

– The picture of Malcolm X used in the film is actually a picture of Denzel Washington from the film Malcolm X.

Monsters, TNA, and PB & Jay

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SS SEXY ARMPIT CAPTAIN’s LOG
MISSION: BIRTHDAY WEEKEND
Saturday March 12, 2011

The Monster Mania Con was calling my name like Vader taunting Luke. The con fell on my birthday weekend so not going wasn’t an option. Cherry Hill NJ is a bit of a hike from Sexy Armpit Headquarters but when I woke up on Saturday morning I noticed the weather was sunny and pretty warm so I decided that a ride down the Turnpike for Monster Mania was the thing to do.

Once I got off at exit 4, I stopped for an iced coffee at D and D to recharge myself and then headed to the Crowne Plaza Hotel. Out of all the stars that were signing autographs over the weekend there weren’t any names that I was hardcore about getting to meet. Of course there were some hotties like Dina Meyer, Allison Barron, and Melinda Clarke, but this time around I was planning on just hanging out and having a good time.

Parking was atrocious as usual, they really need to do something about that. Once the summer installment of MM rolls around I don’t feel like walking 3 1/2 miles back to my car in the sweltering heat. Fortunately, I was able to nab a fairly close spot, but that was after 15 minutes of driving around. Inside I noticed the same scenes of previous MM cons, but that’s what’s cool about it. I thought to myself, “If only there was a place like this that you could go hang all the time, not just a couple of times a year.”

Sour Puss Socks Gloves
I kept my spending to a minimum and made only a few purchases. 
One of them was something cool for Miss Sexy Armpit at the SourPuss Clothing table.

Jessica Rajs to The Sexy Armpit

I met a much cooler New Jersey version of Kat Von D, Jessica Rajs. Jess is the creative director from Bad Zombie, the creators of The New Jersey Zombie Walk. They not only organize the Zombie Walk but also sell some rad T-Shirts as well as a Pinup Calendar of some sexy and zombified local ladies. The Gorgeous and Gory Pinup Calendar is sold out, but each print was available for purchase along with other cool swag.

Finally the coolest moments of the con came when I ran into a few familiar faces. First, the question was posed what would happen if The Sexy Armpit was in The Man Cave? Two major players at the MM Con, Geof Capodanno of The Man Cave Blog and his friend and expert cameraman Dan Petrucci do it up in style with a hotel room, and not one igloo, but TWO M*THERF*CKING IGLOOS! What’s so cool about the Igloos you ask? They were filled with…BEER! So they were nice enough to invite a wandering Sexy Armpit up to their room for a brew and they also filmed a Man Cave Interview with me too! It sound so dirty but it really isn’t! It will probably be posted over there pretty soon so be on the lookout! It was a really fun time and I look forward to hanging out with the Man Cave crew again in the future. Thanks guys!

From there I also ran into John and his girlfriend from Freddy in Space (one of the best horror blogs out there) and had a minute to talk with them. And then I talked with none other than the writer and director of the awesome revenge film, JERSEY JUSTICE, John Charles Hunt! If you have a minute, check out The Sexy Armpit’s review of the film right here. By the end of the day I realized that socializing without any stringent agenda made the day way more fun. Without being rushed around and bleeding money out of my wallet I had a chance to really enjoy the experience.

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4H7PZ4fhIJo?rel=0]

After the con it was time to rush back up the Turnpike for the TNA Wrestling show in Rahway NJ. In addition to “The Shore” spectacle made up of Robbie E., Cookie, and Angelina from Jersey Shore, most of the big TNA stars also appeared including Kurt Angle, AJ Styles, Jeff Hardy, Matt Morgan, and Beer Money. Velvet Sky was signing during intermission so it was my big chance to meet her. Getting a picture with Velvet Sky made me quite a happy man. The show’s fast paced ring action made the crowd electric. It was a great time and we met up with some friends after the show.

PBandJ Cake 2

What’s a birthday without a cool cake? Is that a giant peanut butter and jelly sandwich in this picture or a birthday cake masquerading as a giant peanut butter and jelly sandwich? I primed my girlfriend several months in advance that this was the cake I wanted for my birthday and she remembered. So we slapped some candles into that bad boy and dug in. Using the Cakewich Sandwich Style Cake Mold, who is getting a free plug right now, Miss Sexy Armpit took the time to concoct this delicious peanut butter and jelly sandwich cake. I know lots of people who despise peanut butter but obviously I am not one of them. PB and J has always been one of my favorite snacks, whether it’s between bread or on crackers, it’s simple and reminds me of being a kid. Gotta have some milk with it though! This cake was a fun, nostalgic, and a change of pace from your average butter cream birthday cake.

That brings the 2011 Birthday celebration to an end. Thanks for reading and I can only hope it’s just as exciting next year!

PB and J Cake 1

TNA Wrestling Comes Back to Rahway NJ!

TNA Rahway NJ

Whether you are a hardcore McMahon disciple or you’re strictly into ROH and other indy organizations, the fact is that TNA Wrestling puts one hell of an awesome house show. Presently, the Nashville TN based wrestling organization has their show on the road and will be hauling it up to The Rahway Recreational Center in New Jersey on March 12th. The last time TNA came to The Rahway Rec Center in September, the air conditioning wasn’t working and the place was like a sauna. Words can’t describe to you the melange of smells wafting around that gym. I temporarily changed my name to The Sweaty Armpit that night.

Luckily they weren’t lying and the show they put on actually was full of non-stop action. If TNA could only capture that excitement and put it on TV, they would probably see a ratings boost. It reminded me of the old days of ECW, it was simple, no ridiculous pyro or lasers, just wrestling! Perhaps the reason why the Rahway TNA shows are successful has something to do with their association with the local Jersey All Pro Wrestling organization.

The best part about a TNA house show is that they actually follow the story lines and occasionally you’ll witness a title exchange. At the last show Elizabeth NJ’s Jay Lethal won back the X-Division title from Amazing Red in front of his hometown crowd! As Gorilla Monsoon used to say, the place went bananas! Mick Foley also showed up and ignited the crowd upon dropping some trivia that Randy “The Ram” Robinson from The Wrestler was from Rahway just before he confronted the team of The Shore (Robbie E. and Cookie). Unlike at WWE shows, you’ll have plenty of opportunities to try and get autographs and maybe a picture with your favorite TNA star. And don’t be concerned about ticket prices either; starting at $23 bucks, they are very reasonable. It definitely beats listening to Michael Cole and watching The Miz.

When Glam Rock and Wrestling Ruled: THE WRESTLER (2008)

The Wrestler
Our featured writer and film buff Nick Holden is back! If you missed his last post check it out HERE! But now, read his insightful thoughts on one of the best Jersey movies ever: The Wrestler

The world of a professional wrestler, with the outfits, the personas, and the fans will always be a myriad of truths and fictions. Yes, the outcomes are preordained and the storylines scripted, but no it isn’t fake; they really get hit and injured (sometimes permanently) and do things that should only be tried on Jackass!. But underneath this world, for the ones that have left the limelight behind, it’s only one of memories and disappointments. And to look closer, it is also a mirror into the career of Mickey Rourke. Once considered the next Robert De Niro with legendary roles in such 80’s classics as Diner, 9 ½ Weeks, and The Pope of Greenwich Village, Rourke’s star soon faded in the 90’s along with his career, which led him to briefly take up professional boxing. But after a small resurgence in bit parts, Rourke slowly found himself in demand which lead to a breakout of sorts in the 2000’s, with prominent roles in Once Upon a Time in Mexico and Sin City which brings us to The Wrestler. Upon first look, it’s easy to dismiss the movie as Rocky with wrestling in place of boxing. But after numerous viewings, it is an example of Rourke’s power as an actor as well as an excellent portrait of New Jersey in all its truth and grittiness.

Randy “The Ram” Robinson (Rourke, who trained with real life wrestler Afa Anoai) is an ’80s wrestling star that has long since been out of the spotlight. Working on the independent circuit in gymnasiums and schools, Randy is a broken man in every aspect. His muscled body cannot stand the abuse anymore, and he keeps himself going with pain pills and steroids. Outside the ring, he makes ends meet as a stock clerk at a supermarket, constantly bullied by his boss, while trying to coax Cassidy, a stripper (Marissa Tomei, who bares everything and looks damn better than women half her age), to see him outside her work. He has long since lost contact with his daughter (Evan Rachel Wood) and longs to be back on top, which may happen by a chance rematch with his old nemesis The Ayatollah (Ernest “The Cat” Miller). But his wrestling career is put in jeopardy after an extremely violent “hardcore” match leads to a heart attack that nearly kills him. Now Randy must decide if a last chance shot at fame is worth everything, including his very life.

Director Darren Aronofsky perfectly captures the balance of a person and wrestler. One minute, Randy is larger than life in the ring, playing to the crowd and basking in the attention; the next, he is sad and pathetic at his work, doing menial labor and swallowing his pride to work the deli counter. Rourke disappears into the role from beginning to end. In addition to performing some of the wrestling scenes, Aronofsky filmed him waiting on real customers at the deli counter in order to keep the scenes as realistic as possible. Apart from Rourke, Marissa Tomei also scored an Oscar nomination as a woman who is much like the Ram; well past her prime to be working in a strip club (Cheeques, located in Linden if you’re interested), she struggles night after night, and well aware that she is being passed over for the younger entertainers. Both Randy and Cassidy live in an era that has long since passed; the ’80s, celebrating the music and clothing, trying to deny the current times around them. An excellent example is summed up during their meeting at a bar while RATT plays in the background: “Yeah, the ’90s really sucked.”

Along with Rourke and Tomei, another star is the state of New Jersey. With a short shooting schedule, Aronofsky filmed on location in Linden, Bayonne, Rahway, Roselle Park, Hasbrouck Heights, Garfield, Elizabeth, and Asbury Park while other scenes where filmed in Pennsylvania and New York. What really captures the spirit of the film is a scene in Asbury Park, where Randy has a brief reunion with his daughter. Asbury has undergone a complete renovation and transformed into a more glitzy, trendy affair of clubs, restaurants, and hotels. But at the time of filming, it was a forgotten, dilapidated boardwalk of empty venues and boarded up businesses. But New Jersey is kinda like that; most of the industries that populated Newark, Passaic, and Paterson (to name a few) had been outsourced and left the Garden State high and dry. Much like Randy, time has not been too kind to the state, but still everyone (me included) still remembers when good times were to be had and hope was not a lost word.

The Wrestler won numerous awards from every film festival from here to Toronto and, following two wins at the Golden Globes including best actor and best original song (courtesy of original NJ’er Bruce Springsteen) was expected to win big at the Academy Awards. But sadly, it came up short with Rourke losing out to Sean Penn and Tomei to Penelope Cruz, but it gave people around the world a new reason to consider Mickey Rourke a major talent again as well as showing New Jersey in a non-Jersey Shore light. Subtle, funny, and moving, The Wrestler is definitely one of the best films in the past decade.