BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

…the opportunity.

I’ll tell you right up front, this is going to be one of those short, vapid blog entries with no substance whatsoever. Some of you may even find it sexist. Well, you should know me better than that by now. Just sayin’. (Edit, I thought it was going to be vapid when I started out, but maybe now, not so much.)

Anyway, after an hour or so of “entertaining the troops” on Facebook, a comment was made that sparked an idea. Of course, I mentioned that I had an idea and I needed to run off for a bit and implement it. What did that get me?

Oh ye of little faith. Pthhhbbbbt!

So, the idea that came about was this. Cartoon characters. I suppose it all stared with me mentioning that since Pebbles is a redhead she could most likely kick Bam-Bam’s ass. This lead to comments from others, and then a dribble from my brainpan.

So, here’s my flash of not-so-brilliance. Many folks I talk to have these “lists”. You know what I’m talking about. The list of celebrities your spouse said it would be okay for you to sleep with if presented with the opportunity. The reason your spouse agrees, of course, is the fact that it just ain’t gonna happen. This is the literal definition of a “safe bet.”

Anyway, the comments got me to thinking. How about cartoon characters you could sleep with if presented with the opportunity?

Therefore, here’s my list, in no particular order.

Jessica Rabbit.

I mean…

Well…

Ummm…

Just look at her!

I know, I know. She’s just drawn that way. But, that’s the point. She’s a cartoon. She’s drawn in such a way as to… well… stir the imagination so to speak.

I really suspect that I am not alone in this. If I was there wouldn’t be so many pictures of her out there on the Internet.

After all, we’re talking about a pretty dated movie here.

And, what of Roger? Aww, hell, I don’t know. He’s a rabbit, and he never really seemed to be all that with it to begin with. Besides, if we can have “Toon Lists,” how do we know the toons don’t have lists as well? And, after all, I am a famous author ya’know… (I figure if I keep saying it, eventually someone will believe it. Maybe even me.)

At any rate, even though I said no particular order, I think ol Jess here would have to be right there at the top of the list.

Now don’t start in on me about robbing the cradle and stuff with this next one. I’m not talking ORIGINAL Pebbles. I’m talking 70’s era, grown up Pebbles.

And, when you get right down to it, Pebbles Flintsone is WAY older than me, so if any cradle robbing is being done, she’s the culprit.

But, let’s face it. When they did the Pebbles and Bam-Bam cartoon, where the two of them had grown up, they drew her pretty good.

While kids watching the cartoon probably didn’t notice much of anything, trust me, the dad’s did.

On that note, I have long held the theory that they put semi-alluring characters into cartoons for the purpose of getting the parents – in particular the dads – to sit down with the kids for a bit.

Let’s face it, Daphne was the hot one.

Now this is not to say Velma didn’t have her own allure. I happen to harbor a fondness for women in glasses, and I kinda liked that pageboy do she sported as well. The baggy sweater, well, not so much, but it did leave some things up to the imagination. And, since we are talking toons here, imagination is pretty much the driving force.

My only turnoff with Velma was actually the fact that she kept running around yelling, “Jinkeez!” Honestly, that sounded like some kind of STD to me.

Seriously.

“Hey, Shaggy, the doctor just called with my test results, and I tested positive for Jinkees. You and Scooby better go get yourselves checked.”

But, we’re here to talk about Daphne, not Velma and bizarre, cartoon STDs.

Self-assured, downright stylish, and a redhead. Yeah, I know, I’ve got myself a pattern going here.

Either way, Daphne could get right into the thick of things, play the damsel in distress, and help solve the mystery. All the while she looked damn good doing it, and kept Fred on a short leash. That had to tell you something about her right there.

So, for all her detractors out there, Daph had a lot more depth than you realize.

And I’m willing to explore it.

I actually have a few more, but I think I’ll save them for Toon Dates Part II or something…

More to come…

Murv

OSMOSIS [oz-moh-sis, os-] – noun – a subtle or gradual absorption or mingling.

We all learned about it in High School biology… Hell, we probably even learned about it in grade school science. I mean, I’m relatively certain I knew the word and its meaning by the 3rd grade myself. But then, that’s me…

The point here is that we’ve all heard about osmosis. We pretty much know what it is – whether it’s an amoeba eating a dead paramecium, or the way your home water filter works to remove chemicals from tap water. It’s a process that occurs in nature, and can be applied to many things. But, I’m sorry to say, learning is not one of them.

Now, while I will not deny that we “pick up” things from being around people, situations, or the like, we do NOT soak up all knowledge and experience on a subject simply because we come into contact with it. Some, yes. All of it, no.

So, what am I on about?

Well, you see, it’s like this… Several years ago I had a gal contact me on Myspace. Why she sent a friend request, I have no idea. But, she did. I accepted and next thing you know she started messaging me. Given that she was a self-described “former adult model turned Barbie soccer mom” or some such, I was wary. Still, we chatted a bit and it seemed to be all cool. No weirdness, no invites to go see nekkid pics, no “help me put a hex on my neighbor” kind of crap. Although, from the tone of her messages I had the impression she might have been a bit of a  “collector,” and by that I mean “celebrity collector.” While I don’t consider myself a celebrity by any stretch of the imagination, sometimes people see that profession of “Author” and assume such. Well, soon she informed me that she was going to rush right out and find one of my books to read.

Okay. Good deal. That’s the idea behind me being on social networking sites to begin with – generate new readers.  Apparently, it was working.

A couple of weeks went by and she contacted me again. She had procured a copy of Harm None and read it. Her message told me that she enjoyed it, BUT that she wanted to let me know that it was completely unrealistic because Rowan would have never been allowed to consult on a murder investigation.  She knew this because her father was a retired cop. And,  because of that little factoid she could detail for me, step by step, police procedure from the ground up. She had learned it all by osmosis. She then proceeded to tell me all manner of things that didn’t gibe in any way shape or form with the things that the actual, badge-wearing, gun-toting, crime-solving/preventing cops who are my friends had told me.

Go figure. During the osmosis I’m guessing that a few things got caught in the semi-permeable membrane through which all the knowledge was passing.

Okay… Let’s forget for just a moment here that the book is FICTION.

Her father was a retired cop. Not her. Her father. Again, not her.

She had never been a cop, completely unlike the cops I know who are actually accredited law enforcement officers and whom I consult about various procedures as previously noted. Nope. She wasn’t, nor had she ever been, one of them.

She was an ex adult model barbie soccer mom  something or another.

However, because her father was a retired cop she automatically knew everything there was to know about being a cop, police procedure, etc. Apparently, while at work, her father had some manner of psychic connection with her that allowed everything he knew about his job to automatically flow into her head. She didn’t actually say that, but it’s about the only thing I can imagine, because all of the cops I know don’t discuss their jobs at home all that much – especially with their kids.

Yet, because her father was a retired cop, she KNEW everything…

I realize I’m dwelling on that a bit, but I’m simply trying to make a point here. It’s pretty much as if she lived in a Holiday Inn Express, if you know what I mean. (Gratuitous stupid TV commercial reference, yes…)

So anyway, I told her, “Thanks. By the way, would you like for me to explain to you how to build an F-15 Fighter Jet?”

“How do you know how to do that?” she asked.

“Easy,” I replied. “MY father wasn’t a cop. He was a schedule planner for McDonnell-Douglas and he worked on the F-15 project. Therefore, I should be able to tell you the ins and outs of how to build one, don’tcha think?”

She didn’t find this particularly amusing. I, however, thought it was hilarious.

And so, the moral of the story is this: This ain’t your father’s diffusion of fluids through membranes or porous partitions, so quit acting like you somehow inherited his brain through your DNA or something.

OR

Stick to what you really know, not what you think you know. You’re less likely to make a fool of yourself that way.

However, if in the future I happen to have an “ex adult model turned soccer mom” as a character in a book, I know exactly who to call…

More to come…

Murv